Page 2 of Hearts and Hidden Secrets

Bordered by a wooden, split-rail fence, the driveway veered past open fields currently buried beneath snow. But in the spring, they’d be a lush green and teeming with wildflowers.

The office building was simple with brown and gray barnwood siding.

Its plethora of windows offered clients and staff a view of the surrounding gardens and pathways.

The showcase. From fountains to native grasses to flower beds packed with colorful blooms in the spring and summer, it had taken me years to finish.

When I’d been hired on at Alcott Landscaping all those years ago, I hadn’t planned on it becoming my career. All I’d cared about was a decent paycheck to fund my court battle with Rosalie.

The owner at the time had been Finn Alcott. He’d hired me for hard labor, and damn, I had worked hard. This job had become my escape. Any chance to make an extra dollar, I’d raised my hand.

Still, even working my ass off, it had been almost impossible to keep up on bills plus pay my smarmy lawyer.

But Finn hadn’t just been my boss. He’d tossed me a life raft when I’d been drowning.

When he’d learned of my custody battle with Rosalie, he’d given me the name of his own attorney, a man who’d agreed to represent me pro bono.

Thanks to them both, I hadn’t lost my daughter.

Not long after my divorce, Finn had sold Alcott Landscaping to Hans. And while I hadn’t seen Finn in years, he’d always have a special place in my heart. The same was true for Hans.

In the past ten years, I’d come to admire and respect Hans. He’d once had a landscaping company in California but had sold it to retire in Montana. Anyone who knew Hans knew why his retirement hadn’t lasted. The man couldn’t sit still. So he’d approached Finn and bought Alcott.

Hans had kept the company name—smart, because of its reputation. And he’d retained the employees who’d wanted to stay, including me.

When I’d outgrown laying sod and plowing snow, the foreman had given me other jobs, like irrigation and operating the larger equipment. After two seasons, I’d decided it was time to get some education.

The weeks when Katy had been with Rosalie, I’d filled my time with studying. And after a few years, I’d earned my degree in environmental horticulture with a landscape design emphasis from Montana State.

From lawn mower to Alcott’s head designer and general manager, I rolled into the office some days and still couldn’t believe the titles on my business card.

The parking lot was half full this morning, mostly office staff.

The outdoor crew was light at the moment and would be until spring.

There were a couple of trucks outside the massive steel shop building this morning, each fitted with a plow blade on front.

We’d beefed up the winter employees in the past few years to offer snow removal to more clients around town, but still, it was quiet.

That quiet would be short-lived. In two months, once the May projects started, the yard would be chaos from sunrise to sunset.

Parking in my usual space, I headed inside. The scent of donuts and coffee greeted me as I pushed through the door.

“Morning,” I called.

Korbyn, my assistant, poked his head out of the break room, his cheeks bulging and his hand clasped around a maple bar.

“Save one for me,” I said.

He grinned, still chewing, and saluted me with the donut as I headed down the hallway for my office.

At six three, Korbyn and I were the same height, but I had at least fifty pounds of muscle to fill out my frame.

Hans called him String Bean—not to Korbyn’s face.

Hans didn’t spend much time in the office these days and had struggled to remember the newer employees.

That, and he was horrible with names—it had taken him nearly three years to call me Jeff instead of Big Guy.

Rather than try to remember the constantly changing faces, he mostly avoided the crews these days.

Not that he needed to interact with them much. Not when I was running Alcott.

“Morning, Jeff,” Rachel said as I passed her office.

“Good morning.” I dipped my chin, then ducked into my office across the hall from hers.

She gave me enough time to hang up my coat and shake the mouse on my computer before she swept through my door, her arms overloaded with papers and an iPad. “I need help.”

“You got it. Just let me grab a cup of?—”

Korbyn strode in carrying a steaming mug and a maple bar on a plate.

“Coffee,” I said. “Thanks.”

“You got it, Jeff. Anything else?”

I picked up the cup, blowing on the black liquid before taking a careful sip. “No, thanks.”

Korbyn winked at Rachel, the two clearly having planned this ambush for the moment I got here. Smart. If you didn’t catch me in the morning, chances were, I’d get busy and the day would run away from me.

“Ready?” Rachel asked.

“Am I?”

She adjusted her thick-framed, tortoise-shell glasses. “Every single one of my bids is falling apart.”

“They were fine yesterday.”

“A lot has changed since yesterday.”

I took another sip of coffee, then leaned my forearms on the desk. “All right. Then let’s put them back together.”

Two hours later, she returned to her own office, projects back on track. And I opened my inbox to a slew of new emails. When I finally looked away from the monitor’s screen, my stomach was growling.

“Lunch.” I scanned the office, then groaned. I’d been so worried about getting Katy out the door, I’d forgotten my lunch in the fridge at home. So I picked up my phone, about to order a sandwich when it vibrated in my hand, the school’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hello,” I answered, standing from my chair and ready to grab my coat if Katy was sick.

“Mr. Dawson?”

“Yes.”

“Hi, this is Della Adler. Katy’s English teacher.”

Miss Adler. Katy’s favorite. “Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Well, not exactly. Normally, I’d hand disciplinary matters over to Vice Principal Jones, but in Katy’s case, since this is the first time we’ve had an incident, I wanted to talk with you about it directly.”

“Hold up.” I plucked my coat from its hook. “Did you say disciplinary matters?”

“Um. Yes. Would you be able to come to the school? I’ve got Katy in my classroom for lunch.”

“On my way.” I ended the call and strode from my office. “Korbyn, I’ve got to take off. Would you clear my calendar this afternoon?”

“On it,” he said as I breezed past his desk in the lobby and pushed out into the cold.

Disciplinary incident? What the hell was going on? Katy had never, ever gotten in trouble with a teacher. Not once. This had to be a misunderstanding, right? Or maybe another kid had caused some trouble and tried to blame it on Katy?

I tore across town to the middle school, parking in the guest lot. Children laughed at recess as I hustled inside, checking in at the office and getting directions to Miss Adler’s classroom.

My footsteps were too loud in the hallway, echoing off the lockers, but the bell rang, drowning them out. Doors opened and kids flooded from classrooms, some carrying lunch bags and all with coats. The noise was intense as they headed in the opposite direction, probably for the cafeteria.

I waded through the sea of little faces, making my way to a classroom with its door propped open. My only visits inside the middle school had been to the gymnasium for an awards assembly and a Christmas choir concert.

Rosalie had insisted on attending the parent-teacher night at the beginning of the school year and subsequent conferences, so I hadn’t met any of Katy’s teachers. Maybe that had been a mistake.

Was this about Hailee? If that little shit had done something to get Katy in trouble…

My hands balled into fists as I strode into the classroom.

The woman seated behind the desk made my steps falter.

Damn . That was Katy’s teacher?

Her dark hair was pinned into a messy updo. She wore a pair of baggy tan overalls with a fitted white shirt beneath and a plaid scarf around her throat. A stack of rainbow beaded bracelets decorated her left wrist.

Katy was always talking about Miss Adler’s clothes. How she dressed like a cool kid, not a stuffy teacher. In my head, I’d pictured an older woman, not a woman in her late twenties.

And I certainly hadn’t pictured a woman so, well… damn . She was beautiful.

She turned toward the door, her caramel eyes taking me in as she stood and extended a hand. “Mr. Dawson.”

“Jeff,” I corrected, taking her delicate hand in mine. “Nice to meet you, Miss Adler.”

“Likewise. And it’s Della.” She shook my hand, then gestured toward the desks.

Where my beautiful daughter was seated in the front row. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Dandelion.” I crossed the room, propping on the edge of the desk beside hers. “What’s going on?”

Katy’s gaze flicked to Miss Adler.

Mine followed.

She’d returned to her chair, her arms crossed. Her posture screamed disapproval, but her expression was gentle as she looked at my daughter. “This is the third day in a row where Katy has caused a disruption in my classroom.”

“Katy.” I pointed to her head, looking between the two of them. “This Katy?”

Della nodded.

The Katy in question pulled her lips in, like she was fighting a smile. Wait. Did she think this was funny?

“What kind of disruption?” I asked.

“She has been cursing in class.”

“Cursing?” No way. Not my kid.

“She’s used a few colorful words, mostly under her breath,” Della said. “But loud enough that other students have overheard and either snickered or brought it to my attention. Today’s was the f word.”

The f word. My daughter had said the f word? I blinked, then turned to Katy.

Guilt was etched on her face, but she still looked like she was about to laugh.

“What the fuck?”