Roses in June by Clare Revell

voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses” but couldn’t remember who wrote it.
    Dawn and roses. The two went so perfectly together.
    He suddenly realized that she’d mentioned his name, and he had no idea what she’d said. He tilted his head. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
    “I asked what campfire songs you know. The kids seem to think you’re some kind of expert.”
    He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t know about that. I guess you mean other than the c-a-m-p-f-i-r-e-s-o-n-g song.”
    “The what song?”
    “The c-a-m-p-f-i-r-e-s-o-n-g song.” He speared a marshmallow. “Do you kids know that one?” A chorus of yeses echoed. “Then I suggest we teach Miss Stannis how it goes.” Gabe grinned and sang it, the kids joining in with him.
    He then taught them a few new songs before singing the usual ones that most kids knew. An hour later, he’d exhausted his repertoire and looked at Dawn. “Are you sure you don’t know any? You must have gone to girl guides or something.”
    “Well,” she said thoughtfully. “There is one.” She sang the first line.
    The kids roared with laughter.
    “I remember that one,” Gabe said noting the other teachers nodding as well. “Don’t any of you kids know it?”
    A few hands went up. “We sing it at scouts,” Henry said. “She isn’t making it up. We sometimes sing it in a round.”
    “Now that I have never tried.” Gabe resolved to tell Blake as soon as he could and try it with him. They’d camped a lot as kids on the estate grounds and often sang around the campfire. “Miss Stannis, shall we?”
    “Sure.” Dawn took a deep breath and sang.
    Gabe blended his voice with hers, and the kids slowly began to join in. Once they’d gotten the hang of it, they sang it as a round getting faster and faster until they were laughing too much to sing.
    As the fire died down, Jonathan packed all the kids off to bed.
    Gabe looked at Dawn. “I had a great time. Thank you for inviting me.”
    “You’re welcome. We had fun too. Thank you for coming.”
    “Is that you done for the night?”
    “Aside from checking on them ten times and telling them to be quiet, yeah.”
    He rose and looked at her. “I was wondering if you had time for a quick walk. If you’re too tired, then I understand.”
    He caught his breath. The words had come out faster than he could think. Of course she couldn’t come. She was working. He was a fool for asking her in front of the others. He’d put both of them in an untenably awkward position. Maybe he should just backtrack, rewind, and rescind the offer for another day. Because she was working and couldn’t say yes even if she wanted to.

6
    Heat pulsed through Dawn burning her cheeks. What was he thinking? She desperately wanted to accept, but couldn’t. How did she say no in such a way that he’d ask her again when she wasn’t surrounded by a load of work colleagues and—
    Gabe hadn’t moved. He was waiting for an answer, his heart on his sleeve and a world of worry in his gaze. How could a man convey his emotions in his eyes like that? It must come with his job and training because it seemed as if she could see into the depths of his soul. Which was silly and not possible.
    “I’d love to,” she said, “but I’m working.”
    “Go,” Jonathan said from the other side of the remains of the campfire. “We can manage without you for a couple of hours.”
    “Are you sure?”
    Liz agreed. “Yes. If the girls get out of hand, I’ll set Robert on them. That will have them running for their beds and hiding quicker than counting to five.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Just be back before midnight,” Jonathan said. “Otherwise, you might turn into a turnip.”
    “A turnip? Thought it was a pumpkin.”
    “This far north it’s a turnip, and then you’ll be eaten by the beast of the moor.”
    “Yeah, right.” Dawn reached for her jacket and slid into it. The evening had turned sticky and humid as it wore on, but she’d take it