This wasn’t the time to think about her divorce from Blake, though. Right now she had to focus on her kids. So as the first parents showed up, she went into teacher mode, chirping about how wonderfully this or that kid did in class today, helping put on little jackets, and finding mittens. More parents showed up, and then her classroom was an absolute cluster of people bundling small children in warm outdoor gear, and so she got her clipboard and checked off names and parents while one of the PTA moms chattered in her ear about the upcoming school Christmas Carnival. It was another one of the ways Amy was probably a bit too anal-retentive about her kids, but she was able to get away with it because it was a smaller class. She carefully kept track of who picked up who every day and made notes in a logbook in her desk. Safety was important.

As parents left with their children and the room started to clear out, she tried to focus on the woman talking nonstop in her ear. She kept an eye on the children left in the classroom as Linda talked about Santa’s Workshop and the plans to give each child a small present from the teachers.

“Don’t you think that’s a good idea?” Linda asked as Amy gazed at the empty rows of desks in her classroom.

“Great,” Amy enthused, noting that she was down to two students. One was Billy Archer, whose mom worked a bit later on Wednesdays. The other was Libby Watson, though, which was unexpected since her enormous bear of a father was usually there right on time. Libby was calmly coloring at her desk, unconcerned.

“So you’ll be Mrs. Claus?” Linda asked as Amy headed toward the school hallway. “We really need a volunteer and I think you’d be great.”

“I can do that. Would you excuse me for a second? I just want to make sure I didn’t miss someone.” Tucking her clipboard under her arm, Amy headed out into the hall and looked around. Occasionally a parent would get distracted by their phone and wander into the wrong classroom, so it was worth checking. She peered down the hall and didn’t see anyone, then turned around—

—and nearly ran into a large, bearded man with a cowboy hat in his hands.

Amy bit back a yelp of surprise, hating that she jumped. Her hand went to her chest, where her heart was hammering. “Oh, freaking heck, you startled me.”

The man clutching his hat flushed a deep red. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

She bit her lip, because she’d almost cussed a blue streak—and right in the middle of an elementary school filled with students and parents. Trying to compose herself, she smoothed a hand down her skirt. “Can I help you find a classroom?”

The man opened his mouth. “Libby,” he managed to croak out after a moment.