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What a lot of kids there were for such a small town, Will noted as he emerged. From kindergarteners to adolescents, they skipped, strolled or slouched toward the campus, some accompanied by parents and others with friends.
Most had a shiny, well-groomed appearance, although here and there he saw a child who might be neglected. When he’d visited the town last month, the police chief had explained that he and Dr. Vine were conducting an outreach program to help some of the needier youngsters.
Diane wriggled out of her booster seat unaided, while India waited patiently for him to release her. Both girls caught his hands, staying close as they crossed the street.
Diane made no further mention of her fears, although perhaps she was putting on a bold face in front of fellow students. Thank goodness Will didn’t have to deal with a screaming temper tantrum like the one a little red-haired girl was throwing on the sidewalk.
“First-grader?” he asked as they came alongside.
“Yes.” Her mother, a harassed-looking woman with a round face and ultrashort hair, sighed in resignation. “She’ll be all right as soon as we get into the classroom. I’ve got two older ones, and they adored Miss Morris.”
That sounded promising.
In front of the building, Will spotted a familiar face. Chief Ethan Forrest accompanied a self-assured little boy, who glad-handed a group of other kids as if preparing for a junior career in politics.
“Gotta watch that kid,” Will joked as he approached. “He’ll be running for mayor before you know it.”
“Good to see you.” Ethan started to shake hands, then noticed that Will didn’t have one free. “This is Nick.”
Will introduced the girls.
“They’ll be in the same class,” the police chief said. “Make them feel at home, will you, Nick?”
The kids made funny faces at one another. India giggled.
“Best chums already,” Will noted.
They joined the swarm going through the double doors, by-passing a father so intent on videotaping his little boy that he didn’t notice what a roadblock he created. Inside, the cheery corridor featured student drawings and paintings.
Will had forgotten to ask the number of the classroom, but with Ethan as his guide, they proceeded down the hall and around a corner. Children’s shrill voices bounced off the walls and feet clattered on the linoleum.
He flashed back to his first day at school. He’d been one of the ranchers’ kids, marked by loose-fitting jeans and a T-shirt, in contrast to the town youngsters, with their brand-name outfits. Although most parents had escorted their youngsters, his father merely idled the pickup while his elder brothers, Burt and Mike, exited with Will.
He’d clutched his lunch bag, scared to death of the unfamiliar commotion. Mike had walked him to the classroom, smacked him on the shoulder and offered, as a parting bit of advice, “Don’t pick your nose.”
That day had marked the start of a long journey that had increasingly isolated Will both from his peers and from his family. He didn’t regret deciding to focus on his education and prove the naysayers wrong, however.
Thank goodness India and Diane wouldn’t have to struggle to prove themselves. He intended to be there for them at every step.
Will followed Ethan into a classroom arrayed with desks and chairs scaled for Lilliputians. The walls blazed with alphabet and number charts, illustrations from books and a couple of travel posters. One featured Seattle’s Space Needle, and another showed the familiar sight of the Texas Capitol. He wondered fleetingly if the teacher had put them up to welcome the new kids in town.
Then he saw her.
Crouched in front of a teary little boy, she was talking earnestly. Her long black hair fell tantalizingly across her shoulders and her blue eyes went wide as she uttered what appeared to be words of sympathy. After a moment, the child stopped crying and hugged her.
Will got a tight feeling.
Leah. Downhome. Miss Morris. Impossible.
He couldn’t be mistaken about that cover-girl face or the gently sculpted lines of her body. A body he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for the past month. Exquisite. As sweet as his dreams. But good heavens, what kind of mess had he created? Yet here the woman was.
He struggled to sort out how such a coincidence could have occurred. He recalled mentioning the Wayward Drummer to Karen Lowell, a member of the physician-search committee, who’d mentioned a friend planning to visit Austin. This must be the friend.
A knot formed in Will’s gut. That night at the motel, he’d made some huge mistakes. Jumping into bed with a stranger was the most egregious. Leaving without a word hadn’t exactly put him in a defensible position, either.
That left the question of what he was going to do with his children. Could he trust her with them?
When he caught Leah’s eye, a flicker of something he couldn’t read crossed her face, quickly replaced by bland welcome. She’d been expecting him. Sometime since her return, she must have figured out who he was.
“Hi, Leah! I mean, Miss Morris!” Nick bounced across the room. “Want to see me prick my finger?”
Ethan made a choking noise. Leah kept a straight face. “You know what? We’re going to talk about diabetes on Wednesday, so everyone understands. Dr. Vine’s agreed to make a presentation, and I would really appreciate if you’d help.”
“You bet!” Satisfied, the little boy headed over to talk to a friend. After the chief said a good-natured farewell, Leah turned toward Will.
Just as in Austin, her smile lit up the room. Combined with her open, unaffected manner, her striking appearance made it hard for him to think straight.
Fortunately, she directed her comments to his daughters. “I’m excited to have twins in my class, but I’m sure you’re two very different individuals.”
“I’m Diane. I like pink and India likes blue.” The little girl indicated their jumpers, which were identical, except for the colors. Will wondered how much Eileen had influenced their choice of the same style, and made a mental note to take them shopping himself next time.
“Even though I’m the teacher, you’ll need to teach me about yourselves,” Leah went on in her musical voice. “Do you want to sit together or would you like to sit separately?”
The girls exchanged looks. “Together,” Diane said.
India’s head bobbed.
“That’s fine,” their teacher said gravely. “Later in the year, when you feel more comfortable, you can switch if you want to.”
“You need to get our dad’s phone number,” Diane told her. “In case Mrs. McNulty can’t find us.”
“I’ll do that. You’re a very responsible young lady,” Leah told her.
India took Diane’s hand. “Come on,” she said in an urgent half whisper. “Let’s go sit by Nick.” The little girls scampered off.
With only the slightest hesitation, Leah shifted her attention to Will. “I guess I’ll have that phone number now, Doctor.” She didn’t bother to disguise a touch of irony.
He could have sworn his face grew warm, but he hadn’t blushed in years. “Certainly, Miss Morris.” Since he hadn’t had business cards printed yet, Will took out a prescription pad. Unable to find a pen, he borrowed a watercolor marker from her desk.
As he scrawled the number, he grew more and more uncomfortable. He had to let her teach his kids, since she appeared to be the only first-grade teacher in town. Besides, yanking them now would upset the girls and raise far too many questions. All the same, there was no way he and Leah Morris could ignore what had happened.
“We have to talk.” He kept his voice low.
She gave a friendly nod to a new arrival, the woman whose daughter had thrown a tantrum. Sounding politely impersonal, Leah said, “When would you suggest, Dr. Rankin?”
His housekeeper retired to her quarters—in this case, a separate guesthouse, much to Will’s satisfaction—by 7:00 p.m. Adding his address to the note, he said. “How about seven-thirty tonight at my place?”
She quirked an eyebrow but, to his relief, didn’t refuse. However, she added, “Let’s make it eight.”
“Eight will be fine.” He suspected the hour mattered less than her power to control the terms.
She tucked the note into her skirt pocket and, after one last assessing look, moved on to the short-haired woman, who caught her arm eagerly. “Leah, I hope you’ll let me serve as the class mom! Nobody’s beaten me to it, have they?”
“A few people dropped hints, but nobody’s signed up. That would be wonderful, Minnie,” she said. “I can’t believe Sybill’s old enough for school!”
On his way out, Will lengthened his stride. The curious thing was, he realized as he scooted down the front steps, that he felt almost as off center as he had on his own first day of school.
By eight o’clock tonight, he would regain his usual iron self-control. And they would figure out how to put the whole embarrassing incident behind them.
Chapter Four
By the time the last child hurried out that afternoon, Leah’s back and shoulders ached. Even so, she trudged around the room straightening desks and picking up dropped papers. Surely, she didn’t feel this exhausted every year on the first day of school, did she?
At naptime, when she’d expected to have a few minutes for reflection, she’d put her head on the desk and promptly fallen asleep. In nine years of teaching that that had hardly ever happened.
Jenni had warned of requiring more sleep than usual. Leah had figured that meant going to bed half an hour early. Well, live and learn.
On the short drive home, she finally allowed her thoughts to stray to Will. Thank heaven she’d learned of his identity in advance and discovered the two Rankin girls’ names on her class list, because the sight of his intense gaze and expressive mouth had hit her hard.
She was proud of maintaining her poise during their encounter. The fact that it has taken place on her turf had helped. The prospect of meeting him at his place tonight didn’t thrill her, but they must get this over with.
The question remained: how much did she intend to tell him? He clearly wanted to deal with the issue of their affair. She’d rather save the matter of her pregnancy for later, but that might not be wise. Given his occupation, he was sure to find out, and he might be angry if it appeared she’d tried to keep it secret.
At the two-bedroom cottage her parents had bequeathed her, Leah fixed a salad. She carried it to the country-style table at one end of the living room.
Usually the décor lifted her spirits with its mix of conventional furnishings and quirky accents, including a carved red chest and a Japanese-style print silk scarf framed on the wall. Tonight, however, she was too busy wrestling with her decision.
So far, no one except Jenni and Yvonne knew about the pregnancy. She hadn’t had occasion to use the artificial insemination story, so it didn’t present a stumbling block to whatever she and Will decided.
If she admitted the truth to him before anyone else found out, they could concoct a story together. They might say they’d dated for a whirlwind few days and fallen in love. Eyebrows would be raised no matter how they put it, but if he decided to stand by her…
Leah glared across the room at her reflection in the glass of the built-in cabinets. She had no business indulging in infantile fantasies. The man who had walked out on her without a word was not going to fall on his knees and ask her to marry him.
Nor did she want him to. In fact, she wouldn’t marry Will Rankin if he begged her—and not only because he’d betrayed her trust.
After college, she’d longed to see the world. She’d begun looking into teaching English at a foreign school or joining the Peace Corps, but there’d been no question of that after her mom fell ill.
By the time her mom had died a year later, Leah had taken on a job in Downhome. A short time later, her father had announced his plans to marry an old friend in Denver. Perhaps as a way to cushion the blow of his rapid defection, he’d given Leah the family house, saying her mother would have wanted her to have it.
A bolder person might have rented it out and pursued her old dreams. However, losing her mother—and, in some ways, her always-distant father—had left Leah feeling insecure.
Clinging to the comfort of old friends and routine, she’d persuaded herself that traveling during the summers ought to be enough. Three-week jaunts to Europe, Asia and South America had proved educational and exciting.
She hadn’t realized how quickly life was slipping past, although she’d begun to feel restless on her thirtieth birthday. The defining moment had come a year later, as the result of an offhanded remark from her cousin.
Mark, four years Leah’s junior, had told her at her thirty-first birthday dinner, “I’m glad you don’t feel you have to chase after something new all the time.”
Aware that a longtime girlfriend had dumped him because she considered him stuffy, Leah had tempered her response. “I like to try different things, Mark. I’m just quiet about it.”
He’d dismissed the comment. “You’ve worn your hair long and straight for as long as I’ve known you. You’ll probably wear it the same way when you’re eighty. And that’s great, because it suits you.”
She’d had a sudden vision of herself as an aging, stereotypical old maid, still dwelling in the house where she grew up. Even if she married, it would be to some boring guy who lived down the block.
Leah had made up her mind to leave Downhome. This summer, she’d put her plan into action.
Now Will Rankin lived down the block, or almost. The mysterious man who’d stirred her in Austin had metamorphosed into a respected obstetrician with two children. Although she could never call him boring, he hadn’t turned out to be a daredevil, either.
Leah had made up her mind to leave town, and she meant to do it. If the job in Seattle didn’t materialize, she’d move somewhere else. Hawaii. Alaska. Las Vegas. Anywhere but here. A child didn’t have to tie her to one place.
A man was a different story. He’d restrict her in all sorts of ways.
Okay, so she’d settled that. Even if Will threw himself at her, she’d still say no. Leah smiled at the unlikelihood of such a development.
All the same, she planned to inform him of the pregnancy. For the child’s sake, she hoped he would want some involvement.
But not too much. He’d already blown his chances for that.
WILL INSISTED ON doing the dishes so Mrs. McNulty could retire early. Although he didn’t expect Leah until eight, he meant to put the girls to bed well before then, to recuperate from a busy day.
They’d greeted him after work with crayon pictures that included their names. Since the twins had learned many of the basics in kindergarten, they’d been encouraged to add any words they wanted.
Diane had written “Dog cat horse.”
India had scrawled the name “Nick.”
His little girl had her first crush. If that boy broke her heart, Will would make sure the police chief gave him a spanking.
Guiltily, he remembered what he’d done to Leah. Although she’d shown no sign of suffering a broken heart, he owed her an apology.
Eileen supervised the girls’ baths. Procedures that frustrated Will, like settling squabbles over who went first and shampooing hair without creating hopeless tangles, came easily to the experienced housekeeper.
She’d joined the family two years ago, after Allison left. Previously, she’d raised two generations of children in other families, along with a daughter of her own.
At seventy, Mrs. McNulty could have retired, but what would she do all day? she’d responded when Will had asked. Divorced, she’d always worked, first as a maid and later as a housekeeper. She might have considered moving to Florida to be near her daughter’s family, she’d said, but they led their own lives.
She’d been thrilled to have two young charges again. Desperately seeking a solution to recurrent child-care problems, Will had been overjoyed to find her. The move to Tennessee hadn’t fazed her, thank goodness.
He’d finished loading the dishwasher when the housekeeper’s substantial frame filled the kitchen doorway. “The girls are ready for their night-night story,” she told him. “There’s a coffee cake in the fridge, and I could make a pot of decaf for your guest if you like.”
Will nearly dropped the box of dishwasher detergent. “I’m sorry?” He hadn’t mentioned inviting anyone.
Mrs. McNulty favored him with a knowing glance. “Dr. Rankin, what’s the first thing you do when you get home?”
“Hug the girls,” he said.
“After that.”
“Change my clothes.” He saw her point. Tonight, instead of throwing on jeans and a polo shirt, he’d merely removed his jacket and tie.
