“Lady, the nearest town is a mile away, and we’re heading there now.”
“That isn’t an answer.” I also peer out the window because I don’t see a town anywhere near us, just clusters of trees and mountains—not to mention the snow.
“The next town over?” He gives me another side-eye, this time looking far too uneasy. “It’s a solid hour away.”
“No.” I gasp. It isn’t just a gasp of surprise, it’s a genuine,oh nogasp that I can’t hold back. I look to Lark, my eyes wide. “Lark starts school Monday.”
His blue eyes glance at Lark longer than the allotted one-point-five seconds before he gazes back at the road. “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Oh, now he’s just laying it on thick. “Thank you, ” s he preens. Preens!
“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can get you set up in the local school for the time being.”
“I would very much appreciate that. It’s dangerous to have a lapse in education.” Her little nose wrinkles up, making her freckles dance on her face. “Just so you know, I’m supposed to skip a grade.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.” He leans down, never taking his eyes off the road. What magic is this? He’s full of trickery! “My baby sister runs the schoolhouse, so I’m sure she will place you just where you belong.”
Wait. What? “Let’s back that bus up.” I clear my throat. “Schoolhouse?”
“Schoolhouse.” I swear he smiles beneath all that bush called a beard.
“How many people are in this town?” Banjo music plays in my head, and I may or may not hum it out loud.
“What?” He shoots me a look. “Not like that. Look, there are about five hundred.”
“That’s a village, flannel man, a village.” I pause for dramatic effect, which goes unappreciated by these two. “Are you bringing me home to your settlement?”
Our savior looks down at Lark, who smiles at him like he’s responsible for the rising sun. “Is she always like this?”
“No.”
“Oh, good.” He settles for a moment.
It’s a lie because I know my daughter, and she may be as smart as a whip, but she also came from these loins. Therefore— “She’s worse.” There it is.
“Worse how?” He glances down at her.
“I double café dared her to be nice, and she couldn’t do it.”
“What does that even mean?” He shakes his head in disbelief, tightening his hands on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white.
“It means that we swear on the sacred bean.” Lark tsks under her breath and shakes her own head. “She failed the sacred bean.”
“I can’t tell if she’s serious or not.” He glances at me before pulling down a street that is hardly considered a street and more like a path through the woods toward Grandma’s house.
“Oh, she’s completely genuine. We take our coffee seriously.” I drum my fingers on the door. “So, red shirt, let’s go back to this schoolhouse.”
“My sister runs it. Lark will be in excellent hands.”
“Is it like one of those schoolhouses where it’s one giant room for all the kids?”
“No.” He answered far too fast for that to be believable.
“I don’t believe you, mountain man.”
“Will you stop calling me that?”
“What else am I supposed to call you?”
