He carried the treats to his car and drove the short distance to the school. It took a bit of juggling to carry in two guitars along with the bakery boxes, but he managed, then signed in at the front desk and made his way back to Dena’s classroom.

He stood in the hallway, watching her through the window in the door.

She was completely absorbed in what she was doing. He could tell by the way she was standing and how she kept her gaze on her students. Her smile was easy, her command of the moment absolute.

He liked how she gave herself over to whatever she was doing, whether teaching or decorating the B and B. Her long brown hair hung in a ponytail down her back, moving with her. The color caught the sunlight.

She wasn’t wearing much makeup, and her clothes were more practical than fashion-forward, but he liked that, too. There was something about her that appealed to him. Maybe how accepting she was, or maybe how much she cared about people, or maybe how she was about the bravest person he knew.

She looked up and spotted him. Their eyes locked, and he knew in that second that if there wasn’t a door between them and a classroom of third-graders watching, he would close the space between them, pull her close and kiss her until they were both breathless.

The image was nearly as startling as the desire that accompanied it. He smiled. After all this time, he was ready to start living again. Had it really taken a schoolteacher from Wishing Tree to bring him back to life?

Dena hurried to open the door. “I’m not sure you could carry much more than you are,” she said, taking the bakery boxes from him. “You could have asked someone from the office to help.”

“I was fine.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks for coming. The kids are so excited. I made the mistake of telling them you’d be back, and they’ve been wild with anticipation ever since.”

She led the way into the classroom. The students went quiet and all stared at him. He spotted Noah and winked at him.

“You all remember Micah Ruiz from career day,” she said. “He’s going to be our room parent for the month of December. Say hello.”

“Hello, Mr. Ruiz,” they chanted.

“Hello, everyone.” He smiled. “It’s going to take me a bit to learn your names, so please be patient.” He looked at Dena. “How does this work?”

“I usually feed them first. Then we do whatever it is you want us to do.”

“I’m going to teach everyone about guitars. I brought two with me—one’s acoustic and one’s electric. We’ll talk about the differences. Then I’ll play both of them.” He grinned at her. “I should probably close the door.”