Page 8 of A Mile of Ocean

The children lined up to board the bus, thanking Mr. and Mrs. Callum for letting them visit. Savannah was the last to board. After climbing back onto the school bus, she kept glancing around the paddocks, looking for Trent one last time. She slid onto a seat by the back window, continuing to search the surrounding area.

In the distance, she saw him standing by the fence, cradling a squirming calf in his arms. She could see now that his tough exterior masked a caring and empathetic soul, someone dedicated to his family and those around him.

A longing leaped in her heart as the school bus rattled down the long driveway and past the main entrance. Something inside that she thought was long dead had reawakened. And she wasn’t nearly ready to ignore the instant attraction she felt.

By mid-afternoon,Savannah managed to stay focused on getting her 4-H group back on school grounds in time for their last two afternoon classes. Though extracurricular field trips were always an opportunity to keep them engaged in novel ways, there was always a debate between staying in the classroom versus getting firsthand learning experience.

Savannah believed that seeing real-world environments helped shape their appreciation for other things. By far, she noticed the children were exceptionally involved in caring for the horses every time they went to the ranch. A huge plus in the firsthand department.

It didn’t escape her notice that Trent Callum had to be persuaded to interact with the kids. Maybe that’s how all strikingly good-looking ranchers acted around intruders and outsiders. In her mind, that’s how he seemed to view the group. He seemed genuinely overprotective of the colts and fillies, overseeing their feeding and handling to such a degree that she almost envied the attention he lavished upon them. But she couldn’t deny the positive impact it had on her students. Trent’s dedication to the livestock seemed more than business. He didn’t just go through the motions. His diligence seemed like a lesson about commitment and care.

As the school bus pulled to a stop in front of Ocean Street Academy, Savannah sat daydreaming at the back. She pictured Trent standing by the fence, his eyes following their departure. There was something undeniably compelling about him, a mix of rugged independence and profound responsibility. It was a magnetism that drew not just her but the children, too. Whether he knew it or not, they admired him. His reluctance to share knowledge seemed born out of introspection rather than shyness.

Once they exited the bus, they filed back to class with Savannah in the lead, guiding her students down the hallway. They were still buzzing with excitement, talking non-stop about all the foals they had seen. She couldn't help but smile, caught up in their enthusiasm.

“All right, everyone, let’s settle down,” she said, clapping her hands for attention. “How about we write down everything we learned today and what we hope to learn next year as we continue the program?”

“Next fall is months away,” Daisy Wyman said. “By that time, all the horses will be a lot older. They won’t be babies anymore.”

“But we could ride them then,” Sam Geller pointed out. “I want to learn to ride. I’ll probably need to talk my parents into lessons. They were never keen on 4-H to begin with.”

For once, the class seemed to be in agreement. They all wanted to learn to ride.

“Don’t hesitate to get me involved if you need an ally. That goes for all of you,” she explained. “I’ll hand out the permission slips for you to take home. For now, write down what you hope to happen next year,” Savannah urged. “Over the next week, we should prepare for next semester. Let’s write down what we hope our 4-H projects will include come September.”

“I hope we get to raise lambs,” one student said.

“I want to raise a baby goat,” another added. “But I’d love to spend my summer around the horses.”

The kids eagerly took out their notebooks, and soon, the room was filled with the sound of pens scratching on paper. Savannah moved around the room, reading over their shoulders and offering words of encouragement.

She thought about her earlier conversation with Trent. His hesitant commitment to speaking to the class was still fresh in her mind. She hoped he would come through for the kids, if not for her. She realized ranching was more than just a job; it was a way of life, and his perspective could inspire her students in ways textbooks never could.

When the last bell rang, Savannah watched her students file out, still talking animatedly about their day. She felt a sense of accomplishment. Today had been a good day, where learning went beyond the four walls of a classroom.

With a sigh of contentment, she gathered her things, preparing to leave. A thought crossed her mind—she could make another trip to the ranch to drop off the permission slips. She’d make a point to see Trent. There was something about the place and the man who ran it that called to her.

She shook her head, chastising herself for silly, almost schoolgirl thoughts. Trent Callum was, after all, just another part of the weekly field trip. Just another lesson in the vast curriculum she aimed to teach her students.

Instead of having fanciful thoughts about a guy, she should try to find a regular summer job. Teaching kids to ride would be the fun part. But it wouldn’t pay the bills.

Trent had neverpurposely avoided a woman before like he had Savannah. But something about her made him want to keep his distance. Maybe it was her enthusiasm and optimism that had been worn thin in him by the relentless demands of ranch life. In his experience, women usually loved the idea of a cowboy until they set foot on a ranch and realized things were messy. They had to be realistic enough to stick around the smelly job of running a ranch twenty-four-seven. Once they realized it wasn’t like the movies or what they saw on TV, they couldn’t run fast enough or hard enough for the nearest exit.

Running a ranch involved getting dirty. And most women he’d known didn’t like to break a nail, much less deal with animals all day.

But he couldn’t deny how Savannah’s presence seemed to stir emotions he had long buried. Whatever the reason, he knew he couldn’t avoid her forever, especially since Tate had opened her big mouth and asked her to help with riding lessons. Sure, he respected her dedication to her students and her effort to make learning an adventure. The kids deserved this experience, and he had a responsibility to make it memorable. With a resigned sigh, he decided to give that talk at the school and let them know what they were signing up for. It was more than learning to ride. He wouldn’t pull any punches but would explain ranch life in detail. It was the least he could do.

As he went about his chores, his thoughts kept drifting back to Savannah. He admired her spirit and her willingness to get her hands dirty, so to speak, for the sake of her students. It was a quality few possessed. Women like his grandmother and Tate were rare. They had both been raised to do the job, day in and day out. After all, Duchess and Tate mucked out their own horse stalls every single day without complaint. It seemed second nature to them, something you did when you loved caring for the horses so much that it became part of who you were. He just hoped Savannah and the kids knew what they were signing up for. It wasn’t just about learning to ride. Spending your summer mucking out horse manure wasn’t for everyone. And they had to learn the ins and outs of caring for the horses first. A part of him hoped he could match their enthusiasm with his own contribution, teaching them about the hard fact of ranch life—dedication to the land and livestock—often came at a price. There were challenges to managing such a large operation. He and Tate decided a long time ago to share the responsibilities fifty-fifty.

He’d had relationships, but none had developed past the initial stages of attraction and heat. Those never lasted for long because the ranch and animals always came first.

Out on the range, Trent’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He had always prided himself on being practical, grounded, and fair-minded—qualities essential for managing people and overseeing the overall welfare of the employees and livestock. But Savannah stirred something within him, something that made him question whether he could shift priorities.

He shook his head. All this because they shared a brief conversation, nothing more than polite pleasantries, yet he had felt an inexplicable connection. Why else did he catch himself smiling at the memory of her laughter, light and carefree, a stark contrast to the weight of his daily responsibilities?

He reminded himself that life was far too complicated to feel something so deeply about someone he’d just met. It didn’t make sense.

That night, as he sat on his porch staring out into the mile of ocean below the hillside, watching the sunset, he thought about the impact he could have on those kids’ lives. He remembered the first time he fell in love with ranching—how the wide-open spaces and the rhythm of the land had given him a sense of purpose. It was just before his parents died.

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