The Little Matchmaker
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Catherine Mann
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19,9K
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15
Chapter One
Though she be but little, she is fierce.
The quote from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream echoed through Susanna Levine’s brain, bolstering her every step as she stomped through the autumn forest.
She might have a problem standing up for herself, but when it came to the students in her care as a librarian? She could battle a lion.
Lucky for her, there weren’t any lions in Moonlight Ridge, Tennessee, mountain home of the Top Dog Dude Ranch. There was just one very annoying parent of a first-grade boy who was struggling with reading. How many notes did she have to send home in little Benji Fuller’s planner before she got an answer? How many emails? And the phone number on file wasn’t even correct.
Well, she wasn’t that easily deterred. She’d dug around in Benji’s records and learned that his father owned the construction company in charge of the expansion at the local guest ranch. With each step along the dirt path through the thick forest, the sounds grew louder—roaring engines, jackhammers and the beeping construction equipment in reverse.
Thank goodness she had reinforcements to support her. Her shaggy little pup, Atlas, trotted alongside her, his black-and-white fur rippling in the autumn breeze. And her friend Hollie O’Brien kept pace on her other side. Hollie and her husband, Jacob, were the owners and founders of the Top Dog Dude Ranch.
Susanna adjusted her hold on the leash, even though Atlas wasn’t a tugger. He accompanied her to school to provide therapeutic support to the kids. There hadn’t been time to take him home, but she couldn’t risk his running loose in the woods or in the work area. “Hollie, thank you for walking with me. I’m sorry to pull you away from work.”
“It’s no trouble at all,” her friend said, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her Top Dog Dude Ranch jacket, her dark ponytail swishing. “It’s easier to show you where Micah Fuller is than to give directions. Besides, if you don’t mind, I’d like to pick your brain on books to recommend to my little girl. I’m still getting to know her preferences.”
Hollie and Jacob were adopting four siblings. They were adorable kids, but learning the routine for that many at once still had to be a lot to adjust to, especially while running a growing business.
“Of course I can put together a suggested reading list. But it feels like Ivy has plowed through most of what’s in our library. She’s consistently reading at least three levels ahead, which makes it a challenge to find stories at her academic level while also being engaging for her chronological age.” Susanna fished her phone out from her cross-body bag, adding another item to her to-do list app.
And it made her heart hurt all the more for Benji, who was the same age and lagging so far behind with his reading. Images of his freckled little face filling her mind and fueling her steps, she stomped faster, her sneakers snapping twigs underfoot.
The trail was marked with wooden arrows and signs shaped like paw prints. Forks in the path were decorated with bales of hay and pumpkins. Another sported a scarecrow pointing toward the stables. The Top Dog Dude Ranch billed itself as the go-to spot for those in search of more than a mountain vacation. The place also offered special programs designed to heal broken hearts and strengthen connections. A great goal Susanna admired, of course, even though she seriously doubted it would have ever helped her family as her parents couldn’t afford to take time off work for a vacation.
Hollie swept aside a branch, launching a shower of yellow and orange leaves. “I’m thankful for your help. When Ivy first came to live with us, her school records were scant since her parents died right before she started kindergarten.”
“You and Jacob are doing an amazing job.” She wasn’t a parent, but after observing hundreds of parenting styles, she could see the trends of what worked and what didn’t. “And it can’t be easy adopting four children at once.”
Hollie nodded as wind crooned through the clearing. “It isn’t. Oh, and in case I forgot to say it. Thank you for the books on Dr. Dolittle. Elliot loved them.”
The little boy had struggled with speaking since his biological parents died. He spoke only to animals at first. That was improving weekly, thank goodness. The book seemed a logical choice for the child processing such grief.
“I’m so glad he enjoyed them,” she said. Atlas sniffed at a pile of sticks as they continued to navigate the well-marked trail, taking in the warm colors of the fall trees.
“You’ve got a real talent with the children. Your help, the help of all our friends here... I don’t know how we would have managed the adoption process without our friends like you. Micah—Benji’s dad—on the other hand, is alone.”
“Do you mean that Micah’s a single dad? Or that Benji’s adopted?” Susanna closed her mouth fast to stem further questions. Benji Fuller was her student, and she didn’t gossip. When she’d met Micah Fuller at the school orientation, she’d assumed he was Benji’s father, and the man hadn’t cleared up the misunderstanding. Of course, she’d only seen him briefly as he stopped by the library with Benji on their way to the class.
“Adopted,” Hollie answered. “Well, almost. While Micah does have legal custody of Benji, the adoption is still being finalized. We met in the adoption support classes. Micah is actually Benji’s uncle, same surname.”
Although Susanna didn’t gossip, she wasn’t against listening, especially to a trusted source. So she simply answered with a “Hmm” as she paused for Atlas to “water” a signpost, then proceed back on the trail.
And while she understood that Micah Fuller might be going through some hurdles if he was new to the adoption process like Hollie, that didn’t excuse the way he ignored her messages. If anything, he should be all the more concerned about his nephew. At the very least, he could have provided the boy’s history to his school so they could best meet his needs. And she would tell him as much—politely—once she found him.
Meanwhile, she could still use this time to talk with Hollie about her children. “Okay, um, about Ivy, we’re launching a parent-child story hour next week, with flexible days and times so working parents have the opportunity to come as well.”
Hollie pressed a hand to her chest. “Thank goodness. I want to do right by my children, but we are also swamped here at Top Dog. I would hate to miss out on something because I overlooked a memo.”
They’d already opened a second ranch location and were expanding their home base—the reason for all the construction that brought in Micah Fuller. Susanna just hoped it didn’t steal the community feel from their small town that she’d come to love since moving here just over a year ago. The deafening sounds of the construction crew sure broke the peace of the wooded mountainside.
Stepping into the clearing, Susanna took in the breadth of work. The trees had been thinned to make spaces for campgrounds. It appeared they’d left the majority of the towering pines, and the wiring was being buried underground, camper hookups being hidden in mock birdhouses.
She’d wondered how this would still fit into the beauty of the ranch’s architectural footprint, one that protected the integrity of the scenery. While the rest of the ranch sported a lodge and cabins, this would offer more accessibility to people on a budget, whether in a tent or campers.
And to professionals at “glamping.”
While Susanna took in the construction work, Hollie knelt to give Atlas a scratch behind his furry ears. “Elliot talks about this little guy every day after school.”
Her scrappy little black-and-white pup wagged his tail faster. Atlas had stolen her heart at first wag.
“He’s my own little Top Dog.” She’d gotten the idea to add Atlas to the library when she’d occasionally brought in one of the ranch’s pups. Susanna had been hooked on the difference it made for the students. So much so, she’d promptly researched the proper channels to bring her personal pet to work on a regular basis.
Smiling, Hollie stood and called out to the construction crew scattered around the site. “Hello? Mr. Fuller? Has anyone seen Mr. Fuller?”
A pair of workmen loading brush into a truck stopped and pointed toward an excavator—thanks to hours reading to kindergarteners about trucks, Susanna could name every different one on this work site.
Still, she hadn’t expected the owner of the company to be so hands-on, down to driving the equipment. She’d expected more of a clipboard sort of dude. An office guy who looked like he didn’t lift anything heavier than his coffee and briefcase.
The night of the school open house he’d shown up in jeans and a polo shirt. She assumed he’d changed out of his work suit into more casual clothes. Now she realized he’d actually dressed up for the event.
Micah Fuller definitely wasn’t a suit-wearing, pencil-pushing type today. Not even a polo-shirt-wearing type.
As she took in the hard-muscled man who could have doubled as a lumberjack, she knew he wasn’t her type. But wow, he made her consider broadening her horizons.
Her breath hitched in her chest and her heart raced. He swung out from behind the controls of the excavator and his long-legged stride ate up the space between them. Well-worn denim encased hard-muscled thighs, his jeans low slung on slim hips.
She swallowed in a slow gulp before letting her gaze travel upward to his...yep...broad shoulders. The yellow construction vest was rather ironic since this man didn’t need help drawing attention. He wasn’t the kind to fade into the scenery, to be overlooked in the library while hunched over a book.
She hated the way insecurity crept up in spite of her best effort. A Jane Eyre quote floated through her brain. Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! She’d graduated top of her class in undergrad and graduate schools. Plain and little did not equate to less worthy, for crying out loud.
His hard hat shaded his face as he turned to speak to the man walking alongside him. After lots of pointing, he turned his full attention in her direction.
Once he stepped past the construction tape, he swept off his hat, his hair dark and close cropped. His eyes icy blue and piercing. How had she missed the boat so much that orientation day? There’d been a crowd, but that wasn’t much of an excuse.
What surprised her most? He was younger than she recalled from their brief meeting. He couldn’t be older than his early thirties. That young and he owned his own company? She was still struggling to make her college loan payments.
And just thinking about those loans reminded her of how hard she’d worked for her job. At the last school, she’d dated a parent only to have things turn tense—very tense—when they broke up. She’d moved to this position to leave all that negativity and tension behind.
No man—no matter how hot—would tempt her to risk this fresh start. Especially not one like Micah Fuller who couldn’t even be bothered to answer her messages about his new little charge.
Micah Fuller fought back irritation over the interruption.
He’d overslept, then stepped on a Lego. Benji insisted on wearing his favorite orange shirt—which had been hiding in the bottom of a basket of unfolded laundry. At least it was clean. Micah had pulled up to the school right as the bell had rung, so he’d had to go inside to sign Benji into the office for a late slip.
Work was usually Micah’s haven. But no such luck today. Two of his crew called in sick and the backhoe was broken.
And now Hollie O’Brien—the lady who signed his paycheck—was here giving a tour to a pretty Tinker Bell of a woman and her tiny pooch.
Yeah, it was a banner day.
“Mrs. O’Brien, what can I help you with?” Micah hitched his hands in his back pockets.
Smiling, Hollie gestured to the lady beside her. “I’m just the navigator today, showing Miss Levine the way. And now that she’s found you, I need to return this phone call.”
Holding up her cell, Hollie backed away. Leaving him alone with the pixie in ankle boots, leggings and some kind of yarn poncho. She tightened her grip on her rhinestone-studded dog leash and thrust out her other hand. “I’m Susanna Levine from Moonlight Ridge Elementary and I’m here about Benji.”
From the school?
Panic jackhammered his gut. “I sent the cupcakes for the party. I dropped them off in the office and I attached a note with Benji’s name and class on top.”
If some other kids had eaten those cupcakes, he was going to lose his mind. He’d stayed up until three in the morning baking them and was proud of the results. He wasn’t the best at frosting, sure, but he’d covered up the torn bits with crushed chocolate cookies and gummy worms that he thought sort of looked like they were burrowing up out of dirt.
“I’m not here about cupcakes—”
“And I filled out the permission slip for his field trip. Do you need a chaperone?”
Holding his breath, he tried to deny the fear that clawed up his throat over the possibility of being stuck on a school bus with a class of first-graders.
She shook her head, her silky, brown hair sliding over her shoulder. “I’m not here about any of that. You haven’t answered my messages.”
Her polite tone didn’t hide the hint of steely judgment in her brown eyes.
He pulled out his phone fast to check for missed calls. “I’m not sure I understand since you’re not his teacher. Is Benji hurt? Are you the school nurse?”
“I’m Susanna Levine,” she repeated slowly, louder this time, a tic twitching in the corner of her eye. “The librarian. Benji is fine. I’ve sent text messages and even put notes in Benji’s planner for over a week and haven’t heard back from you. I need to set up a time to talk about Benji’s reading.”
He snapped his fingers. “The librarian. Ah, now I remember you from the open house.” Tucking the phone back in his pocket, he crossed his arms. “I’m listening.”
“Preferably somewhere quieter,” she shouted even louder, scooping up her fur ball of a dog.
Sighing, he shot a glance at his crew. As long as he could keep them in sight. He texted a quick set of instructions to the foreman, then tucked his cell into his back pocket.
“Alright, ma’am. Let’s go over to that picnic table. I’ve got fifteen minutes.” He charged ahead, dusting leaves and pine needles off the planked seat. Then he motioned for her to sit before taking his place across from her. “What’s going on with Benji?”
Her eyebrows lifted at his brusque manner, but he didn’t have time for niceties. He needed her to get to the point so he could get back to work. He needed this job to put his business on the map. The stakes were higher than ever now that he was responsible for his nephew.
“Well.” She placed her dog back on the ground and looped the leash around her hand. “Benji’s reading isn’t up to grade level. It’s not even close.”
Something that felt a lot like defeat settled on his shoulders. This was the last thing he’d expected to hear and the thing he felt least equipped to help with. His experience with kids was limited to the past four months with Benji.
Micah’s brother and sister-in-law had been drug addicts, unable to care for their child. His parents had tried, but they ultimately decided they were too old to take on bringing up a grandchild. Micah just wished they’d all figured it out sooner so he could have stepped in earlier and Benji could have had less upheaval in his young life.
He was determined not to fail his nephew...soon to be legally his son. And yeah, he loved the kid every bit as much as any child he would have had even if Benji still called him Uncle Micah.
Scrubbing a hand over his stubbled jaw, he searched the librarian’s face. They’d gotten off to a rocky start and he needed her as his ally. “What does his teacher have to say about that?”
“I’m the reading specialist. Mrs. Yoder has reached out to you as well but hasn’t heard back either. I prefer to think we simply have the wrong number and not that you’re disinterested.”
He couldn’t decide whether to be angry at the dressing-down or amused at her assertive tactics.
“I’m not disinterested,” he assured her.
“Alright, then. Just to be clear, is this your phone number?” She held up her cell for him to check the screen.
He shook his head. “That’s my parents’ number.” And the fact that they hadn’t bothered to notify him had him grinding his teeth. “I check Benji’s planner daily. I haven’t seen any notes.”
“Fair enough. I apologize.” Her face softened into a smile. “I trust, though, that you’ll understand why I decided to take a more direct route and set up a time for you to meet with both of us.” She tucked a strand of her bouncy, shoulder-length hair behind her ear. The wind almost gusted, turning her pale cheeks as rosy as her lips.
Clearing his throat, he tore away his gaze. “Then I’ll give you my current cell number—”
Her jaw jutted. “Regardless, I’m not leaving any more messages.”
“Listen, this was just a mix-up.” Frustration was fast overtaking any possible humor, even if it didn’t dampen the wayward attraction. “I appreciate your care for Benji. I really do. But I need you to know I’m trying harder than anyone for my boy.”
“No, sir, you’re not,” she said in a quiet voice that undoubtedly held the power to shush even a library full of rowdy children. “Benji’s trying harder than anyone.”
That cut. Deep. He needed to check his ego because, yes, he could concede that point. “Tell me what I need to do.”
“I’m leading a parent enrichment session on powering up your child’s reading at home.”
“When is it?” Please, he hoped it wasn’t during work hours. He already hated that Benji had to go to day care after school. At least he was able to make use of the ranch’s sitter service for the children of staff and guests. He could extend a couple of hours for Benji to stay, but they already spent too much time apart and Benji still cried at the morning drop-off. He tried to hide it, but just this morning, Micah saw the tears sheening before the boy swiped his sleeve across his face.
He would do anything for Benji. Anything.
“Six o’clock tomorrow evening. It’s fine to bring Benji along.” She fished into her massive bag, pulled out a packet of papers and slid them across the table. “And it would be helpful if you could fill out these before you come. I also sent them to you in an email.”
Thumbing the thick yellow envelope that felt more like a small book, he already saw another late night in his future.
“Should I bake cupcakes?” he asked dryly.
“That would be awesome,” she said pertly, snapping her fingers for her dog to join her. “See you tomorrow, Mr. Fuller.”
As he watched the twitch of her hips and glide of her hair as she picked her way around a trailer full of lumber, he knew he didn’t have time to date. He didn’t even really have time for a fling, particularly not with one of Benji’s teachers.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what cupcake flavor was her favorite.
