Love Beyond Time (Morna's Legacy #1)
Bethany Claire
“Be swept away by Bethany Claire’s miraculous love story that transcends time and space. Sexy, Scottish, time-travel. It doesn’t get much better than this.”
DeWanna Pace
NY Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
For Mims
Chapter 1
Austin, TX
Present Day
Sun beamed against the windows as I walked down the line of tiny faces peering up at me. I knelt before each one, holding up a number between one and ten on my fingers, looking over each little body to ensure that laces were tied, backpacks on, and lunchboxes were in hand as I waited for their answer. As each called out the right number with a prideful smile, I gave them their daily sticker and moved on to the next student.
I could see Anthony three students down, pestering the unfortunate Harrison, who was standing in front of him and blowing in his ears every time he turned around to face the direction of the line. As Grace called out number seven and asked for help with her laces, I threw my most stern cut it out look in Anthony’s direction. The ornery-but-exceedingly-bright child caught my meaning and returned the look with a sheepish grin as he stepped away from Harrison and stood still as a statue.
Two students later, I stood in front of Anthony. He rattled off the number nine that I was holding up in front of him before I even had a chance to look him over. Both laces were undone, and he had split his zipper so that only the middle of his jacket was actually closed.
“Good job Anthony! Here’s your sticker. Still haven’t mastered the old shoelaces yet, I see?”
“No, Ms. Mothgomfrey. I been working and working at it, but I just can’t seem to get that rabbit to go around the hole.”
I repressed an eye roll as I bent to tie his shoes. Anthony’s speech was better than all of the other kindergarteners in his class, and I knew he could say my name, Ms. Montgomery, without problem, but he just lived for the giggles of all the other students every time he said my name that way.
“Well, those rabbits can be tricky that way, but you just keep working at it. You’ll get it soon.”
“I sure will! I promise! I sure am tired of watching you tie my shoes every day. Ya know, I’m five years old, it’s humilly-aten.”
“Well, Anthony. That’s sure a big word. Where’d you hear that?”
“That’s what my Mama said to Daddy the other day. She said it was humilly-aten to be married to a man that thought it was okay to watch television all day long on Sundays while she cleaned and cooked and did laundry and that he needed to get his fat, lazy a . . .”
The bell rang, interrupting his speech and saving the day as far as I was concerned. I should’ve seen that coming. I knew better than to ask Anthony an open-ended question.
I quickly checked the last few in line and went to the front of the classroom, motioning for the day’s leader, Izzy, to hold open the door while everyone walked outside. Once everyone was out of the classroom and Izzy had returned to her place in the front of the line, I led them down the hallway, smiling at the sound of their tiny, squeaky shoes as they pitter-pattered single-file behind me.
*
Twenty minutes later, when the last child had been picked up, I shut the door to my classroom and plopped ungracefully down at my desk. I gently pressed my fingertips against my eyelids in an effort to push away the day’s stress. It seemed to help a little, so I stood up, stretching mildly before I tucked my long, dark hair, which was now frizzing after being out in the wind, behind my ears.
I pushed my chair in and circled the room for a quick sweep before I headed home. I bent over every few feet to pick up the various crayons, chunks of Play-Doh, and construction paper scattered across the carpet. I knew the custodian would come along behind me shortly, but I just couldn’t bear for her to see the classroom in this state of dishevelment. As I looked over the mess that scattered from one work center to another, I thought to myself, not for the first time today, how glad I was that I had decided against adding finger-painting to the day’s lesson plans.
With my arms filled to capacity with various craft litter, I deposited the load into the trash can next to my desk. With a glance around the room, I decided I was satisfied enough to call it a day.
I stacked the handwriting exercises for the letter “G” on top of my desk to grade first thing Monday morning, and I was buttoning my jacket when my classroom aide Mitsy opened the door and stepped inside.
“Are you ready for your big date tonight? I talked to Brian and he said Daniel is super-excited!”