Her Small-Town Romance. Jill Kemerer

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      Right after class, he was typing fliers. Posting them around town. Asking Aunt Sally and his sisters to spread the word far and wide. Advertising on the radio if need be. He’d have full attendance at next week’s class. One student who was too scared to be out here would not qualify him for the job.

      He needed that job.

      Tuesday family dinners had become unbearable. All the private loving glances between Claire and Reed. The way Tommy glued himself to Stephanie’s side. Jake and Libby’s inside jokes. Bryan couldn’t take it anymore. He just couldn’t take the loneliness flooding him in their presence.

      He glanced at Jade to make sure she wasn’t hyperventilating again. She matched his pace. Quiet, but breathing normally.

      Why had he encouraged her to stay? So her emotional state touched a nerve. It didn’t mean she was his responsibility. He had no business spending time with someone so beautiful. And the slip about his marriage? Unraveled threads he’d fought to hide since Abby left. Yeah, she’d cheated on him, but he’d made vows, ones he didn’t take lightly.

      A part of him had known the marriage would never work. He’d ignored his instincts and asked her to marry him, anyway. He’d been dazzled by her style. Flattered by her pursuit of him. Fooled into believing she loved him as much as he loved her. No one to blame but himself.

      Which was the bigger sin?

      The divorce?

      Or marrying her to begin with?

      “Um, Bryan?” Jade tapped his arm. He almost jumped.

      “Sorry,” he said. “Yeah, so if you ever got lost in the woods...”

      “Can we not mention getting lost?” Her serious tone made him smile.

      “No problem.” Clear your head. It’s been years since Abby left. “Well, let’s say you were hungry and didn’t have anything to eat. There are plenty of edible plants if you know what to look for.”

      “I’ll pack power bars and Tootsie Rolls.”

      “What if you got lost and ate your entire supply?”

      “Didn’t you get my memo about not discussing you-know-what?” She widened her eyes, her eyelashes curling upward.

      “Right.” He continued forward until stopping in front of a grouping of trees. Jade stood about ten feet away on the lawn. Once more Bryan was struck by her size. A strong wind could blow her over as easily as a stray feather. He waved for her to approach. “Why don’t you come here so I can show you what to look for?”

      “I’m close enough.”

      He went back to her and waited. Why was she terrified? Was it because she was used to the desert? Had she been born afraid of forests? Or had she watched one too many horror films?

      Finally, she sighed and followed him.

      “This is a white birch.” He got the impression she couldn’t say a word and not from awe. He’d grown up hiking these woods with Granddad. Knew every bit of the surrounding area. He loved Lake Endwell—the evergreens, ferns, blue jays and sparrows, the scent of pollen, pinecones, the mucky ground after a hard rain. He loved it all. It would be tough to leave, but he couldn’t stay.

      Bryan peeled a six-inch section of birch bark and handed it to her. “It’s textured on the outside but smooth inside. See? Smell it. It’s a good smell.”

      The tight lines around her mouth eased. “It doesn’t have much of a scent.”

      “Inhale. You’ll catch it. Mint, with a bit of history.”

      “History?”

      “Native Americans and early settlers relied on birch for a lot of things. It’s waterproof, so they used it for roofs, canoes, even shoes. The inner bark is edible.”

      “I didn’t know that. It peels off in ribbons.” She inspected the strip, picking at the pale pink layers. He took it as a good sign.

      “You can write on it, too. Take it home. Try it.”

      “Okay.”

      Bryan tugged a slim branch to her. She hopped with her hand over her heart. He moved it back several inches. The suppleness of new tree growth always impressed him because of the resilience. Age strengthened the wood. “Sycamore trees have white bark also, but it’s not papery like the birch’s. If you aren’t sure if a tree is a sycamore or a birch, check the leaves. Birch trees have small, oval-shaped leaves. Sycamore leaves are big and shaped like a hand.” He held his palm up, fingers together, to show her.

      Jade rose on her tiptoes and extended her neck. “Why does it matter if I know which is which?”

      “Survival.” Bryan let the branch spring back into place. “The white birch has pure, drinkable sap. It’s sweet. If you had a Swiss Army knife on you, you’d have a potential source of hydration. Chop a small triangle out of the trunk, and you can catch the moisture and eat the inner flesh.”

      “Couldn’t I drink from that?” Rotating to the side, she pointed to the pond.

      “You could, but you’d have to boil the water first. It’s full of algae and other contaminants. Besides, you might be somewhere where there isn’t a water source.” He spotted an overgrowth of weeds. “Before we continue, I have to warn you about certain plants.”

      “Great,” she muttered, but joined him.

      “Over there.” He nodded to a green vine. “That’s poison ivy. You can tell because it has three pointy green leaves.”

      Jade hung back, flourishing her hand in the direction of the weeds. “Is that poison ivy, too?”

      “No. That’s honeysuckle. It has individual leaves.” He didn’t dare lop off the poison ivy, but she didn’t seem to be willing to come near it. “I’m not sure if you can see this, but all three leaves are coming from the same stem.”

      “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

      Bryan returned to her side. “Poison oak has three leaves also. There’s a saying in the woods, ‘Leaves of three, let it be.’ Avoid them or you might get a rash.”

      “Avoiding them won’t be a problem.” She lifted one shoulder and smiled. Once more, he was all too aware of her appeal. She was even prettier when she wasn’t terrified. She tapped her finger against her chin. “You know, I don’t feel as nervous right now.”

      “Good. Now that you live in Lake Endwell, you might find hiking becomes your new hobby. Nature is generous. Give it a chance.”

      “Hiking as my hobby? Doubtful.” Jade tucked the birch bark into her jacket pocket. “What do you mean, nature is generous?”

      He plucked a young blade of grass from the ground and held it out. “It’s all connected. The ground gives nutrients to the plants, and the plants provide food and shelter for the birds, insects and animals. Everything you see in this park is generous.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ