Page 21 of Muskoka Blue

“Yeah, it’s mine.”

“So you’re rich?”

“Some might say so.” He shrugged. “Hey, you never told me what you do for a living.” He knew she’d been part of an international worship group, but she’d left that a few years ago. Would she consider them friends enough to admit that?

She took another sip of water. “I, uh, used to teach high school.”

Huh. So maybe they weren’t quite at friend status then. “Let me guess—music?”

She nodded. “Mostly piano and voice. But I play guitar, clarinet and saxophone too.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Do you enjoy teaching?”

“Mostly.”

“Will you do it again?”

She pressed the bridge of her nose. “Maybe one day. I’ve invested too many years of study and practice to give it up completely, but right now I don’t really have the confidence to handle a classroom of teenagers.”

“I don’t know how high school teachers do it. I remember when we were at school, how much grief we gave our teachers. Some teenagers these days have no clue about respect.”

She exhaled. “I have to admit it’s nice to hear someone sympathize and not complain about all the time off teachers get.”

“You should hear the people who complain about professional sportspeople and their vacations.”

“Yeah, it must be so hard, being so rich, having to suffer in holiday homes like this.” She waved a hand.

He remembered she’d been brought up as a missionary’s kid. Okay. Fair point.

She offered a small smile he guessed was meant to be conciliatory. “I guess all jobs have their challenges. Not everyone would cope with big men trying to squash them just to get a little piece of plastic.”

“I see I’ll need to educate you about my sport.”

Sarah shoved her feet into her sandals and stood. “Maybe, but not tonight. My head feels like a bread knife is sawing through my brain. I’d better get home.”

“Want an aspirin or something?”

“No, thanks. I just need to go.”

“I’ll walk you.”

Moonlight glinted on leaves, dappling the path with shadows as they walked to the pastor’s cottage. She unlocked the door and turned on the lights while Dan waited at the base of the front porch steps. “Thanks, that was fun.”

“Glad you enjoyed yourself. Maybe see you tomorrow?”

“Maybe.” Her gaze found his.

Then she smiled.

He blinked, took a step back. “Sleep well.”

He waited until she closed the door, then exhaled, almost walking into a tree on his way home. That smile. When her face had lit up he’d caught a glimpse of the radiant girl he’d seen on the YouTube clips, and—wow. With that hair and those eyes and that smile…

Sarah was beautiful.

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