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Beau was speechless. He’d never in a million years consider dyslexia an advantage. But he’d also never heard it described in such terms. A small piece of shame seemed to melt away, and he felt lighter. He wished the folks he’d worked with as a youngster had described dyslexia in such a manner. Maybe it would have made a difference. “Do you work with kids?”

“When I’m asked to.”

He swallowed a lump. “They’re lucky to have you as their teacher.”

Alice’s cheeks turned pink and she smiled. The statement had really pleased her, and she was pretty when she was pleased. He wanted to please her some more.

Allie shuffled through papers to pull out one with the alphabet written on it. “Can you recite the alphabet?”

“Are you kidding?”

“Nope.”

Beau sighed, crossed his arms, and effortlessly recited the alphabet like any five-year-old could.

“Good,” Alice said. “Now can you write it?”

It took him a bit longer to do that, and by the time he handed the paper to Alice, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Alice looked over the paper. She put a few marks on it. Jesus. Had he made some mistakes?

When Alice looked up, her brown eyes were calm and friendly. There was no judgment. No disgust. No pity. “You’re doing great.”

His chest lightened a little. And that was all it took to get through the next half hour, during which Alice asked him to read a few words and try to figure out some sentences, even if he couldn’t read them perfectly. A few times he had to guess, and Alice praised him. She said that using context clues was a coping strategy, and that he was very good at it.

“I have a better picture of your strengths now. And my plan is to use them to shore up the areas where you’re weakest. In the meantime, what do you like to read?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“No. What’s the last book you read?”

He started to say that the last book he’d read was in high school, but that wasn’t even true. Bryce had been the one to read it, and he’d written the paper, too. “Wow. This is embarrassing, but—”

“Embarrassment is not a part of this process. Give me your phone.”

“Why?” He pulled it out of his pocket, unlocked it, and handed it to Alice.

“I’m giving you some homework.” She swiped a few times. “You’ve now got an app so you can listen to books.” She put a finger to her lips. “Let’s see . . .”

She stared at him intently, nodded her head once, and tapped the phone.

“This is the first book in a suspenseful, action-packed series. I loved it, and I think you will, too.”

Beau took his phone and clicked on the new icon. A picture of a book popped up.

“All you have to do is listen to it. That’s your homework,” Alice said. “And I really hope you enjoy it.”

Beau was skeptical. Books had never held his attention. And besides, he didn’t want to overcome his dyslexia in order to sit around wasting time with books. He just wanted to be able to do his job.

Chapter

Ten

Alice rolled up her yoga mat and put it beneath her desk. Some people might enjoy doing yoga with animals—baby goats and puppies—but doing it with a full-grown Great Pyrenees was not in the same universe. So, she’d taken to doing yoga at the library.

She had a few minutes before Janie would arrive, so she opened the document she’d slaved over nearly all night.

Her résumé popped up. And it was pretty impressive for a small-town librarian.

When she’d come on board, the library had consisted of an old building filled with mostly donated books. She’d worked with the city to get real funding and a workable budget. She’d applied for grants and signed up for programs. She’d partnered with other libraries to offer interlibrary loans while building up the collection. She’d developed outreach programs—ESL, adult literacy, programming for children and teens—until the library was woven into the social fabric of Big Verde.

And when it had all been wiped out by the flood, she’d built it back up. Brick by brick, and book by book. But there really wasn’t anywhere to go from here. There wasn’t a higher position or promotion in her future. And her salary was a joke. What if Carmen was right, and she really wasn’t a small-town girl?

She quickly changed out of her yoga pants and into a sweet little yellow A-line skirt she’d sewn herself. She was a beginning seamstress, but the skirt fit, and she was proud of it.

She spun in front of the door, watching the skirt twirl in the reflection of the glass. Then she jumped, hand to her throat, when she saw Claire on the other side.

Claire tapped on the glass. “Let me in!”

Alice went to the door. What had brought Claire to the library? She already had her copy of Breaking the Cowboy, the romance they were reading for book club. Whatever it was, it was urgent. Because Claire’s eyes were wide, her cheeks were pink, and she was bouncing on her feet like she had fire ants in her shoes.

Alice opened the door. “Are you okay? You look like you might explode.”

Claire blew a strand of hair out of her face and put her hands on her hips. “I think I’m in shock.”

“What happened?”

Claire started tapping her toe. “That’s what I’d like to know.”

Alice flipped the sign on the library’s door to open. “Can you be more specific? Like are you asking me what happened on a specific day? In a specific year? Can we narrow it down a bit?”

Alice headed for the circulation desk with Claire hot on her heels.

“I hear you have a beau,” Claire said.

Alice nearly dropped the keys. She should have anticipated this. The rumor mill had been cranking for more than forty-eight hours. She went behind the desk and climbed on her stool. Claire leaned in, drumming her