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Good Lord, I’m not going to make it.The gentle lapping of Brenton Lake against the shore behind him was a siren song, tempting him to grab his canoe and get some good rowing in. Too soon the temperatures would drop and toasty sunshine would be gone for months. Maybe if he stepped off the back of the stage he could make a run for it.
“William, Dakota, will you join me in cutting the ribbon on our new school?” Principal Myers asked.
“Of course,” William said. “We’d be honored.”
No slipping away now.
Containing his sigh, Dakota followed his dad and the principal over to the front entrance of the school where two temporary poles had been set up for the sole purpose of stringing a ribbon between them. Seemed silly to Dakota, but in this small town, folks got excited about ceremonies and planned every detail. Two students, a boy and a girl, waited as Principal Myers took a ridiculously large pair of scissors from the mayor. She asked the children to hold one handle loop of the scissors with her while instructing Dakota and his dad to take the other loop.
“Okay, Molly and Jacob,” the principal said, “give us a three count.”
The children dutifully counted to three andsnip. The ribbon was cut to the sound of more hooting and hollering and clapping from the audience.
“I’d like to invite everyone in,” Principal Myers said. “Take a look around. See what a good deed looks like in action.” She gave William and Dakota a huge smile, her eyes a little glossy, and Dakota thought back to the meeting where his dad had offered to donate the wood.
They’d been sitting at a monthly town council meeting, debating what to do after the first school had burned down due to a direct lightning strike. Fortunately the destruction had happened when no one was in the building, but losing the place that had educated most of them as youngsters still felt like a tragedy.
“We can use available space in some other town buildings,” Principal Myers had said, “but we’ll have to separate the students by grade level, I guess. A grade in the upstairs conference room at the bank. Another in the community space at the library. A few adjustments at the high school would free up some rooms, I suppose.” She’d rubbed her forehead, no doubt tired from trying to problem solve around this disaster.
“That’s good for now,” William had said. “But we need another school. The childrenmusthave a school.”
“Agreed,” the mayor had said, “but it’ll take some time to gather the necessary funds.”
Dakota had looked at his dad. He knew exactly what his father had been thinking before William stood and said, “Brenton Sawmill will donate all the wood to build the school. Does that help move things along?”
No one in the room had been shocked by William’s offer. The man was always doing something for someone, but Dakota had run the numbers quickly in his head. This particular offer would hurt the sawmill. Not in an apocalyptic way, but he could already hear Dena and Jacy moaning over the monetary loss.
The town council had jumped at William’s gesture, of course, and his dad hadhandledDena and Jacy by calling in Dakota and a few other handy men and women in town to help with the school build… for free. Unpaid labor had shut his sisters up. Mostly.
It hadn’t been a problem for Dakota to schedule his adventure tours around working on the school because he set his own hours. Remembering the long days doing the tours and building, however, made him glad the school was finally finished. He liked building things, but he liked adventure touring better.
“You heading in?” his dad asked him now.
“Nah. I’ve seen it.” Far too nice outside to be inside anyway.
“All right. I’m just going to show my face inside and then we can take off.”
There is a God.“Take your time,real-life hero.” Dakota clapped his hand on his dad’s shoulder, laughing when William rested his fists on his hips and puffed out his chest as if he were Superman. “Don’t get your cape dirty in there.”
“Your mother will kill me if I do.”
William immediately got caught up in the next group of people entering the school and Dakota leaned against the building’s exterior. The bricks behind him were warm and he let the heat soak into his shoulder blades. While he waited for his father, Dakota’s German shepherd-collie pup, Ginger, trotted over. She pretty much ran free in Maplehaven, the entire town claiming ownership of the cinnamon-colored pooch. Dakota didn’t mind sharing her, but at the end of the day, Ginger was always waiting onhisfront porch, her tail wagging in greeting.
“You know who your daddy is, don’t you, girl?” He scratched between her ears, chuckling when her eyes squeezed shut and she made snuffling noises. Dakota crouched, giving her large ears a more dedicated rubbing, and Ginger rested her nose on his thigh.
“Come meet Ginger, Miss Greenstead,” a young voice said.
Miss Greenstead?Dakota knew all the teachers at the school, but that name wasn’t familiar. He did recognize his best friend’s son, Luke Davidson, walking toward him.
He did not, however, recognize the simply breathtaking woman the boy tugged along behind him. Light blonde hair fell about her shoulders in loose waves, sun glinting off strands in a way that made her look as if she were… twinkling. Sunglasses resting atop her head corralled that hair away from her face where Dakota took note of fair skin and sky blue eyes that reminded him of a perfect summer day. The rust-colored dress she wore hugged a tight physique—one that said she took good care of herself. Long, toned legs traveled down into a pair of shoes that were unlike anything he’d ever seen.
“Your shoes have leaves on them.” By far not his best opening line, but her shoes intrigued him.
As he stood, she knocked the toes of her leaf shoes together then the heels. “I know the leaves haven’t changed yet, but they arrived on my doorstep today and I couldn’t wait to wear them.”
Dakota looked at her face now where a slight blush pinked her smooth cheeks.
“Miss Greenstead has the best shoes, Dakota. She’s got ones that look like notebooks and maps and ladybugs,” Luke said, still holding the woman’s hand.
