Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Damn you, Colt.
Harper never cursed, but stealing his favorite swear word seemed appropriate. Why had he screwed with her heart? She would never have pursued him. A daycare teacher after a rich and famous Nashville country star? That only worked in sappy TV movies and the tattered romance novels she hid under her bed.
She watched the thick lather circle around the drain before slipping away. Scrubbing the tears from her face, Harper flicked the water off and stepped out to towel her skin roughly. After drying her hair with the other towel on the rack, she threaded her nightshirt over her head and turned off the lights.
It took the last of her energy to crawl under the covers and cuddle Wombles. With her nose buried in his soft fur, Harper tried to understand what had happened. Had she missed clues? He’d been so good at pretending.
“I should have known, Wombles. Prince Charming isn’t interested in a stupid girl from a backwater town.”
That amazing corner section of the land he supposedly bought popped into her mind. Her heart broke a bit more. Harper knew she would have been better off if he’d never come to town to show her what she was missing. She’d been happy treasuring her friends, even if she only got to see them on the screen. He hadn’t needed to come pretend to want her in his life.
Why?
Finally tumbling into sleep on her tearstained pillowcase, Harper dreamed of the happily ever after she thought she’d found. When she woke on Colt’s side of the bed, she blinked at the sight of the time. She was so late.
Throwing on clothes and shoes, Harper grabbed her keys and phone as she dashed out the door. She drove like a maniac to the daycare, finding several parents parked at the entrance. Quickly, she ran in the side door with her heart beating so loud she could hear it as she turned on the lights to welcome everyone fifteen minutes later than usual.
Apologies tumbled from her lips after opening the door. Everyone was very forgiving of her slight tardiness, except for Miranda. The unpleasant woman scanned Harper from her unbrushed hair and red eyes to her mismatched clothing and the flip-flops she wore.
“If you want to have sex in the morning, wake up earlier. We’re all working and need to drop off our kids on time,” Miranda rebuked.
“I’ve apologized for being late,” Harper said, straightening her shoulders to look directly into Miranda’s eyes. She squelched her first impulse to share that Colt was out of town, so she hadn’t been screwing around.
“Hmph.” Miranda set Cinderella down on the flooring and kissed the top of her daughter’s dark hair. “Go play, sweetie. Mamma will see you later.”
Eager to play with her friends, the small child rushed to the pile of toys in the center of the room without a look back. Miranda paused to look at Harper before turning without a word to leave.
With arrivals continuing through the morning, Harper rushed around the space, doing the preparations for that day’s agenda. She would have had all that set up if she’d arrived on time. Thank goodness the kids were cheerful and flexible that morning. They tolerated her change in their usual routine with a sparkle in their eyes for a mix-up day. She’d have to do this again from time to time for them.
After lunch, a cry of anger and one of discomfort made Harper focus on a small group of three. Kneeling next to them, she scooped up a pile of blocks and set them out of arm’s reach. Soothing the annoyance of one who wanted to keep playing and Cinderella, who had a faint red mark on her arm from a flying toy, she scooped up the instigator. He was burning up with fever. Holding him close, Harper rose and rocked the little boy as she rushed to her phone.
Harper fumbled with the phone, finally pushing the right buttons to start it. Messages bombarded her phone screen, notifying her she’d missed several contacts. She ignored everything as she navigated to the parents’ names and called the father. As the phone connected, she grabbed the forehead thermometer and held it in place.
“Yes.”
“Mr. Erickson. This is Harper. Thomas is running a fever. You will need to come pick him up.”
“He was fine this morning.”
Harper heard rustling and knew he was gathering his things to leave the office. “It’s come on very suddenly. He was fine thirty minutes ago. Now, he’s running a fever of one hundred and two.”
“That’s not good. I’ll call the doctor on my way. Thank you, Harper, for calling.”
The parents of two children had already appeared to take their sick child home when Cinderella was the next to fall ill. Dreading the phone call, Harper selected the number from her directory—Miranda.