Whispers Under A Southern Sky. Joanne Rock

sat inside his cardboard castle under a painted sign that said Clover’s Crib.

      Distracted by the cuteness, she hadn’t noticed a teenage boy emerge from the house. She just turned and suddenly there was a tall, lanky kid on the porch flanked by two younger boys playing tug-of-war with a plastic car. Bailey stilled, feeling awkward to be caught ogling the rabbits, her skirt riding up her calf as she leaned over the cages. Straightening, she tried not to stare at the older boy, whose brown hair fell over one hazel eye.

      “Girls, I’d like you to meet my sons.” Mrs. Hasting put a hand on the teen’s arm. “This is Dawson. He’ll be starting at Crestwood after the holidays. And that’s Tucker.” She pointed to the dark-headed boy who’d won the car he’d been wrestling over. “And Nate.” She ruffled the ginger hair of the smaller child. “They know to keep out of your way, but if you need anything and I’m not around, Dawson can help you.”

      “Cool shirt,” Megan said to the guy. He wore a T with the silhouette of a dinosaur on a spaceship that must be a video-game reference.

      Megan Bryer was not only an A student; she was also a gamer girl extraordinaire. She held the record high scores for just about everything. This gave her a lot more to work with when it came to talking to most guys. She could dazzle anyone who’d ever picked up an Xbox controller in the first five seconds of conversation. Bailey had no such superpower.

      “Hi,” she finally said, and probably only managed that because Mrs. Hasting and the sheriff were both standing right there.

      Her cheeks heated.

      “Good to meet you.” Dawson nodded, making eye contact briefly before stepping aside. “I’ll round up the rug rats.”

      He jogged across the lawn after Tucker while Mrs. Hasting invited them into the house. Bailey followed her, eager to move past the awkwardness of meeting new people so she could start her job.

      Between what had happened with her mother and her new mission to find anyone who might have been harassed by J.D., she wouldn’t have thought it possible that some random stranger could make her feel even remotely interested in boys again.

      She definitely was not.

      So about an hour later when she found herself looking out the nursery window to watch Dawson throw a football with the other kids, she couldn’t account for the fluttery feeling in her stomach. It was different from the burn of acidic fear that had been her constant companion for weeks.

      It was almost pleasant.

      “He’s cute, isn’t he?” Megan’s voice startled her. The sheriff and Mrs. Hasting had left them alone with Aiden.

      Embarrassed to be caught staring, Bailey spun from the window.

      “I don’t know. I guess,” she blurted. “He’s okay.”

      “I thought you loved kids.” Megan tipped her head to one side to study her, frowning. Too late, Bailey realized that her friend held Aiden in her arms.