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After he demonstrated the song, he drew the three chords on the board.

“We’ll use D, G and A7,” he said. “First I’ll teach you the three chords. Then we’ll talk through the song while using the chords.”

The bell rang for recess. Dena smiled at her class. “If you want to go out and play, you’re excused. If you want to stay and practice, that’s fine, too.”

A couple of students exchanged looks, but no one got up.

An hour later, the entire class could play the song. He went around the circle again, helping where he was needed. A couple of the kids were naturals. A girl in glasses was already experimenting with different finger placements. He stopped by her chair.

“Everyone’s getting a songbook,” he told her.

Her smile lit up her face. “I can’t wait to play them.”

“You have talent.”

Dena had everyone pause for their snack and to pass out the books. Micah demonstrated several more chords, then answered questions about how to play until it was time for the kids to head home. They trooped out, proudly holding their guitars.

“I hijacked your afternoon,” he told her. “Sorry. I should have realized the lesson would take longer than my time.”

“Are you kidding? They enjoyed it. If you’re willing, I’d love to do it again next week. We don’t have a music teacher in school anymore.”

“So you’re not mad?”

“No. I’m going to have to explain the influx of guitars to my principal, but I doubt she’ll mind.”

They moved the desks and chairs back into place. Micah took out the trash, then returned to Dena.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her. “Please, I want to help.”

She sank onto her chair and let her tote bag drop to the floor. “Is it that obvious? I was in the waiting room at my doctor’s office and this woman said . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I let a stranger get to me.”

“Someone was mean to you?” He was careful to keep the outrage from his voice.

“No, not mean exactly.” Dena bit her lower lip. “When I told her I’m not married and am having a baby on my own, she said . . . she implied . . .” She sucked in a breath. “She said that no man would want to marry me because I’d already proven I didn’t need one, and men like to be needed.”

She looked away, as if gathering her self-control. “I don’t know. When I say it like that, it’s really not anything, only somehow it made me feel awful.” She turned back to him. “I want to fall in love and get married, and I don’t know why that hasn’t happened. What if there’s something wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re strong and smart and brave and beautiful.”

She managed a faint smile. “That’s kind, but you don’t know me that well, Micah. I’ve had serious boyfriends, but no one has ever wanted to spend his life with me. What if that’s my fault? What if I’m too bossy or demanding or I’m terrible in bed?”

He didn’t like her questioning herself. Dena was determined and hardworking. She got in the middle of things and accomplished her goals. She wasn’t afraid, and that was a good thing.

“I’m taking you to dinner,” he said, a plan forming. He glanced at his watch. “Be ready in an hour. Dress casual.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to take me to dinner or do anything else. Seriously, Micah, I’ll be fine.”

“An hour,” he said firmly. “Don’t think you can get out of this. I know where you live.”

She laughed. “All right. Thank you. I’ll agree, but only on one condition.”

Sex? Could it be that they made love? Because for that, he was all in.

“Anything.”

“We’re not going to talk about this again,” she told him. “It makes me feel pathetic, and I don’t like that.”

“I won’t bring it up. You have my word.”