It definitely felt more video game than addition or subtraction worksheets, and she’d spent a long time in development with parents, teachers, and children to get the game right.

  The silence between her and Handsome thickened, and Rosalie glanced over her shoulder. “Do you have a child in third grade?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the man said. “Ford’s right over there.” He nodded toward the mob of kids in front of the big TV screen mounted on the back wall of the kiva. “He’s the redheaded one.”

  Rosalie spotted him easily, her smile also returning to her face without any effort. “Does he like math?”

  “Depends,” the man said.

  She focused on him again. “What do you think I could improve about my demonstration or speech?” She wasn’t asking to call him out, though her previous question may have been a bit confrontational. “I really want to know.”

  “Oh, uh.” The man lifted his cowboy hat, showing all of his glorious, deep, dark auburn hair as he ran his fingers through it, pushing it back. He resettled his hat on his head. “It was fine.”

  “You didn’t clap or anything.” She tilted her head. “There has to be something I could do better.”

  “Everyone else was clappin’,” he said. “You did fine.” His eyes were the color of forests in the night, definitely green, but not emerald and not spring.

  Autumn would call them “green like Daddy’s Army gear.” Rosalie’s throat tightened at the thought of her four-year-old and her ex-husband.

  James had the girl tonight so Rosalie could be here, and she was grateful for that. Autumn was so good to help her daddy around the house, and she adored his therapy dog. It was the guilt that got Rosalie every time she thought of the two of them together.

  He made his choice, she reminded herself. She’d done the best she could with that choice, and she’d come a long way in the past eighteen months. Sure, maybe she still had some rocky road to tread, and she had the wild thought that it would be nice to go on the journey with the cowboy in front of her.

  “I’m Rosalie Reynolds,” she said, sticking out her hand and hoping to get Handsome’s name. She’d noticed him in the back, leaning against the wall, before he’d shunned her near-perfect performance.

  “Lee Cooper,” he said, and Rosalie felt a certain level of victory for tonight. Even if none of the parents here and none of the teachers at Hanover Elementary purchased her software, tonight was a win because she now knew Lee Cooper’s name.

  “Is your wife around?” she asked. “Maybe she will have a better opinion of the software or the presentation.”

  “I’m not married,” Lee said, pushing his hat further over his eyes. “Excuse me.” He moved away as if he were water easing through cracks in the crowd.

  Rosalie had never met anyone like him, and surprise moved through her as he went over to his son, bent down, spoke, and the boy turned to go with him. No argument. No begging for the game—which plenty of other children were doing.

  Someone appeared in front of her, blocking her view of Lee and Ford Cooper, and she had to blink to focus on the man’s face. “We’d love to buy this for our son,” he said, smiling at her.

  Rosalie slipped into businesswoman mode, but the lonely woman inside her watched Lee walk away from the orange kiva, his arm slung protectively around his son’s shoulders.

  He didn’t look back, not even once. Not even a flicker of his eyes toward her, and Rosalie told herself not to be silly. Her butter-yellow blouse was usually like a lucky penny, but perhaps it would be in the sales she could make tonight and not with a love match to a handsome, single father cowboy.

  Her heart dropped to her stomach at the very thought of dating again, especially someone as no-nonsense as Lee Cooper. No wonder his son hadn’t argued with him, and Rosalie told herself to forget about the man as he and his son rounded the corner and re-entered the classroom down the hall.

  For the next hour, she did her best to focus on whoever was in front of her, answering their questions and taking their money.

  She sold out of the games she’d brought, but Miss Bair and the other teachers said they’d send home her order form with their students next week.

  As she pulled up to her house with all-dark windows, a sigh slipped from her lips. Autumn wouldn’t be inside, and she’d forgotten to turn on the hall light so she wouldn’t have to enter the house in the pitch blackness.

  Thankfully, the outside lights triggered by movement, and they flashed to life as she got out of her car.

  Tomorrow was Valentine’s Day, and she’d scheduled herself to work from home. No school visits. No online meetings. No phone calls. No appointments, not even the fun ones like getting her hair or nails done.

  She left all of her boxes and bags in the car, grabbed her purse and her keys, and went up to the front door.

  A loud stomp sounded on the other side of the door as she fitted her key into the lock, and Rosalie sighed.

  Autumn’s pet rabbit had been left home alone for a while, and he obviously wasn’t happy. He was a funny little thing with a great big attitude, and he wouldn’t appreciate being left in the dark either.

  “I’m coming,” she said as another thump filled the neighborhood silence. Autumn had gotten him the day after James had moved out, and she’d named him The USS Thumper. For a while there, she’d insisted everyone use his whole name.

  Thankfully, she’d calmed a little bit since the divorce, and Rosalie could just use Thumper now. She hated thinking about the way Autumn had named him the way the Navy names ships, because her daddy worked on a ship.

  Well, he used to at least.

  Rosalie finally got the door open and she stepped up and over the gate secured in the doorway directly next to the door. If that gate wasn’t there, Thumper would be long gone in the night.

  “I’m home,” she said to him, her fingers sliding up the wall to the switch. The living room flooded with light, and Thumper stomped his foot as if to say it’s about time.

  “Let’s get you fed,” Rosalie said, dropping her purse on the couch as she walked behind it. She kicked off her shoes near the island and set about making a bowl of veggies for Thumper.

  Exhaustion filled her, and her mind wandered. She usually thought about the sales she’d made tonight, and she might even log them all in the financial software she’d purchased last year when she’d finally gotten her company off the ground.

  But tonight, she could only think about one thing. Not a thing, a person.

  Lee Cooper.

  The following day, Rosalie worked a little bit in the morning. She did get her receipts put into the computer. She brought in her demo boxes and sorted through them to make sure they were right and ready for next time.

  She weeded through her emails and answered the ones she needed to.

  Then she set about cleaning her house and straightening Autumn’s bedroom. She wouldn’t be back until Sunday evening, but Rosalie wanted to have a small Valentine’s Day celebration with her then. So she decorated the girl’s room with hearts and more hearts, all cut free-hand from pink, red, white, and purple paper.

  Her daughter loved puzzles and word games, and Rosalie put letters on some of the hearts. Autumn would need to pull them all down and figure out the word, then she’d be able to find a basket from Cupid in that location in the house.

  Rosalie put together the basket, which was complete with a stuffed teddy bear, chocolates, her favorite sour candy, and a card.

  She hid it in the laundry room closet, right beside the cleaning pods and closed the door.

  She tried to keep herself busy whenever Autumn wasn’t home, but it was harder than she’d anticipated. She almost felt like a robot, completing tasks and moving through the motions without any feeling attached.

  Her therapist would likely want to dissect that for the next several weeks, should Rosalie decide to divulge such a thing at her next appointment.

  Thumper stomped from somewhere in the house, and Rosalie sighed. She’s just started to boil some eggs to make into egg salad, which she fully intended to eat between two slices of white bread, when the front door opened.

  “Mommy!” Autumn cried, and it took her a moment to struggle over the gate. Thumper came hippity-hopping from wherever he’d been angrily stomping in the house, and Rosalie smiled at her daughter.

  Her insides quivered, because James wasn’t supposed to bring her back until Sunday. It was Friday at noon.

  “Hey, baby.” She scooped her daughter into a hug and lifted her right up off the floor. “What are you doin’ here?”

  “Daddy has to go somewhere,” she said, her child-like voice so innocent and so high-pitched.

  Rosalie set Autumn on her feet. “Is he outside?” She didn’t have a ramp for him to get his wheelchair up and into the house. He’d had his brothers come get his things and move him out, and then they’d carried him down the steps to his chair.

  He’d never let her do that for him, and Rosalie hated this small, insignificant feeling inside her. She’d been willing to build the ramp. Move to a new house that didn’t have so many steps. Help him any way she could.

  He hadn’t wanted her to. He didn’t want her anymore.

  Her heart cracked along one of the seams that had already healed, but it only went a little way.

  “Yes,” Autumn said, bending to pick up Thumper.

  “I’ll go talk to him,” Rosalie said. “You stay here with your bunny. Oh, and there’s a surprise for you in your room.” She grinned at her daughter, glad she hadn’t delayed in setting up the Valentine’s Day hearts.

  Autumn’s face shone like the sun, and she skipped down the hall with the ten-pound rabbit holding on for dear life.

  Rosalie faced the open front door, trying to calculate how much time had passed since Autumn had come through it. Only a minute or two. James couldn’t expect her to come running straight out.

  Her chest vibrated in a strange way as she stepped over the gate and crossed the porch. She told herself to be strong. No matter what he said, she wouldn’t react. She could cry later, in private, long after Autumn went to sleep.

  Her daughter loved her daddy with every cell in her body, and Rosalie would not do anything to combat that.

  James sat behind the wheel in his enormous truck. It had been fitted with hand levers for the brake and gas pedal, so he could drive as usual.

  His window was down, and he turned toward her as she reached the sidewalk and advanced in his direction. “Hey,” he drawled out, his voice the one in her head that drove her to keep the house clean and her hair done up right.

  “Hey,” she said, keeping her voice light. “You’re back early.” She made it sound like he was supposed to drop Autumn off tonight instead of in the middle of the day, when really, he was two and a half days early.

  “I know,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  Rosalie paused, because James rarely apologized for anything. He’d only said he was sorry a handful of times in their marriage, and one was when he said he couldn’t stay in their marriage.

  Despite everything, Rosalie still loved him, and she supposed she always would. He was the father of her child, after all, and she had to see him all the time.

  “Listen, a really great opportunity came up at the naval base in California,” he said. “I applied for the job. It was a long shot, but they called this morning, and they want me there as soon as I can get there.”

  Rosalie heard the words, but she took a few seconds to absorb them. “When will you be back?”

  James sighed and that was when Rosalie knew what he’d really said.

  “You’re not coming back.”

  “It’s an intelligence position,” he said, staring out the windshield instead of facing her. “It’s an amazing opportunity for someone like me.”

  Someone with no college education. Someone who couldn’t walk. Someone who’d served his country for eight years, gotten injured, and then couldn’t do the job he’d trained for on his ship.

  Tears pressed behind Rosalie’s eyes. “You’re moving there today?”

  “I’m going today,” he clarified. “I’m not packed up to move yet.”

  “How long have you known about the job?”

  “Four months,” he said. “I’ve been doing phone and online interviews with them for two.” He did look at her then. “This is how the Navy is, Rosa.”

  “I know,” she snapped, folding her arms across her midsection. She took a deep breath and sighed it out. “Did you tell Autumn?”

  “I told her I had to go for a while,” he said. “I’ll have to come back and get properly packed and everything.” He looked at Rosalie with pure pleading in his eyes. She hated that with everything inside her, and she fought against the softness trying to surface.

  “Okay,” she said. “Please let me know when you come back, even if it’s for an hour. Autumn will want to say goodbye.” A real goodbye too, not whatever had happened this morning that Rosalie didn’t know about.

  “I will,” James promised, but he’d promised her things in the past that hadn’t come to fruition. He held her gaze, and so much more was said between them.

  She wanted to tell him to take them with him. The three of them could relocate and start over. Maybe then they’d make it. Maybe then, the strong, confident man she’d married would re-emerge, and he wouldn’t feel like he was shackling her with a lifetime of caring for him.

  At the same time, Rosalie knew that man had died somewhere at sea, in an explosion on-board his ship that had killed three others and left him wounded.

  She looked away, because no one could reclaim the past. “Drive safely,” she said. “Let me know when you get there. Send some pictures for Autumn.”

  “Rosa,” he said, and she wished he wouldn’t use her nickname. They weren’t married anymore.

  She nodded and backed up a step. She had to be strong. She could take care of Autumn all the time—she’d have to now. She couldn’t send her four-year-old to California by herself, that was for sure.

  She turned and walked away from James sitting in that truck, a brand-new level of hardness descending on her. She’d been a single mom before, but Autumn’s dad was right here in town. Only five minutes away should she need help.

  She was really on her own now, and as she stepped over the gate and into the house, her first tear fell.

  17

  Gretchen picked up Elvis’s dinner bowl, where she’d served him a special Valentine’s Day dinner with plenty of pink salmon, and put it in the sink right as the doorbell rang.

  Her heart jumped up into her throat, and she swallowed it back into position. Will would be standing on the other side of the door, and Gretchen hadn’t had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day for a long time.

  Anticipation and adrenaline ran through her with the strength of river rapids, and she smoothed down the front of her dress as she walked toward the door.

  She opened it, already smiling, and sure enough, Will stood there. He held so much in his hands that Gretchen could barely see his face peeking over the top of the stuffed koala bear, and she burst out laughing.

  “Give me some of that,” she said through her giggles. She took the huge koala, as well as the twelve-pack of Coke Zero—her favorite soda.

  “Evening,” Will drawled, and she wanted him to drop everything in his arms and kiss her. He took the rest of it into the kitchen and started sliding it onto the counter.

  She put the koala on the couch and the soda in the fridge.

  “I got these amazing caramels at the best candy shop in these parts,” he said, holding up a box of caramels that had come from Sweet Water Taffy.

  She grinned and shook her head, wondering how she’d caught the eye of this man.

  “The flowers are called tiger’s eye,” he said, handing her the bouquet of yellow-orange roses. “They stand for longevity, I think.”

  “They’re beautiful,” she said, bending down to smell them. The last bunch of roses he’d brought her still sat on the counter, and she looked at them. “You didn’t have to bring all of this.”

  “I also got you the summer of coffee at Juice and Java,” he said, ignoring her and holding up an envelope instead. “You can get unlimited coffee from Memorial Day to Labor Day with this pass.”

  Gretchen laid the flowers on the counter and plucked the envelope from his fingers. “I’ll take that, thank you.” She grinned at him, giggled again, and forgot about the unlimited coffee pass.

  Neither of them had to speak, and they moved in tandem. Will stepped closer to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her in one fluid movement. The man was made of grace and strength, kindness and muscles, and one of the best hearts she’d ever encountered.

  He could kiss like he meant it too, and Gretchen sure did enjoy the stroke of his lips against hers and the way he seemed to know exactly where to put his hands to make her feel safe, cherished, and loved.

  He pulled away far too soon in her opinion, and she tucked herself against his chest. “It’s good to see you,” he said, his voice stuck somewhere in his throat. “How was your week?”

  “It was a week,” she said. “You?”

  “I scheduled myself for a day off, believe it or not.”

  Gretchen pulled away and searched his face. “You did? When? What day?” Why hadn’t he told her so she could do the same?

  He grinned at her, something in it a little naughty. Mischievous. “Monday,” he said. “I was hoping I could convince this woman who comes and picks up cream at the farm on Monday morning to steal away with me for the day.”

  Gretchen had been extremely nervous to talk to Will about what she’d arranged with Lee. He’d taken it well, and she’d picked up her twenty gallons of cream on Monday morning, kissed her boyfriend for a few minutes, and said she couldn’t wait for tonight’s date.