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Lost Love (Cowboys and Angels #1)(24)

By:Kelly Elliott


“Steed!” Paxton said. “We don’t use those words! Honestly, I’m going to have to ban the parents from walking up!”

The first bell rang and Paxton turned quickly, making her way to her students. Chloe turned and stared at me. Her eyes started to build with tears.

“Oh no. She’s going to cry again,” I whispered.

“What?” Tripp said with horror in his voice.

Paxton walked up to the students and called out, “Shave and a haircut.”

They all stopped talking and replied, “Two bits.” With their complete attention, she gave them instructions on walking into the building.

I couldn’t help but smile. I glanced over to Tripp, who wore a happy expression too.

“Remember Mom used to sing that to get all of our attention?” I said with a laugh.

“Yeah. Looks like Paxton uses it for the same thing.”

Nodding, I glanced at the door, hoping Paxton would turn back. She didn’t and that wounded me more than I wanted to admit. At the same time, my heart soared as I watched her walk into the building holding Chloe’s hand.

Tripp hit my arm. “Let’s go. Dad needs me to pick up some paperwork for him.”

We headed back to my truck. “So how much do you know what happens in this town of ours?”

Tripp laughed. “I know a lot.”

“Do you know if Joe Miller is dating Paxton?”

Tripp stopped walking and looked at me. “I can find out, if you really want to know.”

I felt like a creeper, but I needed to know and if I asked Paxton, she might lie and tell me yes just to piss me off.

“Do it,” I said as I opened the truck door and climbed in.





September flew in like a storm. Literally. The cold front toppled the tents set up for the fall festival, one of our main fundraisers, and if we couldn’t get everything set back up it would mean a lot of lost money for the school.

“Paxton! We need more help! I can’t hammer this stupid tent stake in,” Corina called out.

I let out a frustrated groan.

First and fourth grade were in charge of parent volunteers for this year’s fall festival. It rotated with each year for the different grades. Corina was having a hell of a time trying to round up this year’s first grade parents to help with anything. We were almost a month into the school year, and she still didn’t have a classroom parent.

Who in the hell could I call to help?

Joe crossed my mind, but if I called him, he’d get the wrong idea like he did three weeks ago when he walked me home from Cord’s bar. It was stupid of me to use him as a shoulder to cry on. When he leaned in to kiss me, I put the brakes on fast.

“Um, let me call my dad,” I said.

The wind blew hard, and the temperature was dropping. If it kept falling, it would be too cold for the kids to enjoy themselves. My father’s phone rang, and I prayed he would answer.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

“Dad. I need help. We’re trying to set up for the fall festival and none of the dads showed up to help us. This wind is kicking our butts.”

“Who’s all there?”

I glanced around. “Me, Corina, about three other teachers who got subs and four moms.”

My father covered the phone, talking to someone. “I think I found you some help.”

“Really? Oh, Dad! That would be amazing! Are they strong?”

He simply laughed.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Are you at a delivery?”

“Yes, darlin’. We’ll be there in a bit to help.”

Smiling, I gave Corina a thumbs-up. “Okay, Daddy. Be careful.”

Hitting End, I ran over to Corina. “My dad was at a delivery and rounded up some help.”

“Thank goodness. I’m sorry my volunteers bugged out.”

“It’s okay. We may need to pull out last year’s list and see if we can recruit some parents. If they didn’t show for set up, it’s unlikely they will want to work the booths tomorrow. Especially if it’s on the cold side.”

Corina placed her hands on her hips. “If I see them walking around with cotton candy I’m going to shove it up their a-holes.”

Smiling, I shook my head. I loved my best friend. I’d have been kicked out of A and M if it hadn’t been for her. When a position opened for a first grade teacher, I pretty much told her I’d do anything to have her here.

We got to work taking turns hitting the stake with the hammer.

“Damn rock!” I said as I hit it and nothing happened.

Corina dropped to the ground and sighed. “I’m exhausted. How are you not tired?”

Laughing, I answered, “My father delivers feed remember? I used to help with fifty-plus pound bags of the stuff.”