скачать книгу бесплатно
Oh, how she wished they were.
* * *
A detriment?
Impossible, thought Luke. Not with her face, her hair, those eyes, storm-cloud gray, deep and luminous. Eyes that held a constant mix of emotions. Her life held a blend of misdeeds and misfortune, sure, but everyone had a past, including him, and smart folks knew enough to let it be. Unfortunately, not everyone in town saw things that way.
The urge to protect and defend rose within him, but Luke sloughed it off. He’d loved a woman with issues once, and losing her had nearly killed him. It had killed his faith and a good share of his hope, at least until they’d found Aiden, unharmed. Hope had bloomed that day, within a cloud of sorrow.
Aiden came first, from that point forward. “I’d like to offer you a proposition. About our kids. ”
Rainey looked at him, confused, and Luke smiled. “Aiden loves your girls. I’ve been working overtime since you got back home, and with all the drama at the farm, I knew your family was crazy busy.”
They had been fighting off an eminent domain petition put forth by the town supervisor. For a few weeks, tensions ran high, until the town ruled in favor of McKinney Farms. Still, Luke’s words were only half-true. He’d avoided his friend’s farm because Rainey was back. Coming face-to-face with a woman who’d abandoned her children didn’t make his short list. Fate had decided otherwise today. “Aiden comes out of his shell when the twins are around.”
“Okay...” She drew the word out, as if wondering where he was going. But she was willing to listen.
“I was thinking we could strategize together. Dorrie brings out the adventurer in Aiden when they play together. Aiden brings out the protector in Sonya. And together they help Dorrie think twice before getting into trouble. What if we set up a way to help them help us?”
“You mean playdates?
He shrugged lightly. “Beyond that. Like our own little classes to help reinforce good behavior. Does that make sense to you?”
Rainey paused, thinking. “I can’t give you an answer right off. First, because it sounds good and that means there’s most likely a flaw we’ve overlooked.”
He nodded, but the only flaw he saw was that being around Rainey could prove dangerous to his heart. Luckily, he believed in aspirin therapy and a good diet. Except for nachos on game days. And strawberry-rhubarb pie. He wasn’t opposed to ice cream from McKinney’s Dairy Store, either.
“Second, I don’t wade into unknown waters. I think and pray, and that’s stopped me from doing and saying a lot of stupid things as an adult. Including some of the thoughts that ran through my mind in that meeting.” She frowned in the direction of the school.
Her honesty made him smile. “I concur.”
“Third.” She met his gaze. And while he read the uncertain shadows in her eyes, she proved she had them under control with her next words. “Getting involved with anyone isn’t on my agenda, Luke. So if this is your version of a pickup line, you get a gold star for ingenuity. But I’m not interested.”
Her eyes said the words weren’t quite accurate. She was interested but didn’t want to be.
Well. That made two of them.
Her firm stance said she wouldn’t budge an inch. And that made Luke wonder—for just a moment—if he could convince her otherwise.
He let go of that thought instantly, but it came back to haunt him after they agreed to talk later in the week, and said their goodbyes.
The deal was good for both of them. And he couldn’t pretend that spending time with Rainey would be punishment. Not with that face, that hair, that voice.
He refocused his thoughts on the kids, three rascals who needed time and space to establish their roots. His mother believed good family roots allowed for great wings, and Luke was determined Aiden should have both, even if he’d been reluctant to follow through in the past. Maybe with Rainey’s girls around more often, the three of them could attain more solid ground together.
Chapter Two
Rainey strode down the hall to Miss Patterson’s room on Friday afternoon. Mr. O’Mara met her at the door. “I’m sorry we had to call you in, Rainey, but we’ve got a situation here.”
Mr. O’Mara was the kind of principal that kept his cool. Today he looked exasperated. At her? At the twins? She didn’t know. “How can I help?”
Her words softened his expression. “Come over here.” He walked to a door on the far side of the empty room.
“Where are the kids?” She glanced around the classroom. Bright-toned fall leaves decorated a mural of trees on two walls. Alphabet squares took the place of fruit and nuts among the branches, an inviting way of introducing letters to small children. “Art class? Music?”
“We took them into the gym for playtime so they wouldn’t witness adults pulling their hair out over the antics of two miscreants.” Miss Patterson bit the words through tight teeth, looking none too pleased. Was it Rainey’s presence or the twins’ misbehavior that pushed her this far?
“Sonya and Dorrie, this is Mommy speaking. Come out of there. Now.”
“Dorrie’s not in there.”
A deep voice rumbled from Rainey’s left, and she didn’t have to turn to see the deputy sheriff’s broad chest and shaved chin, he was suddenly standing so close. Warmth emanated from his dark blue uniform shirt. His tie was crooked, as if he’d loosened it, unthinking. He was hatless right now, and his blond-brown hair curled slightly, even cut short. “Aiden and Sonya have locked themselves in the closet.”
Rainey couldn’t resist. “That’s a pretty bold move for a couple of shy kids.”
“But we’d prefer they embolden themselves in a socially acceptable manner,” interjected Miss Patterson, unamused. “Rather than disrupt the entire afternoon lesson with this nonsense.”
Luke shifted slightly. His shoulders rose. His chest broadened. To save them from the outburst she figured was coming, Rainey stretched out a hand. “Give me the key and I’ll open the door.”
Mr. O’Mara frowned. Miss Patterson looked suddenly guilt-stricken.
Luke’s mouth dropped open as realization struck. “You don’t have a key to this door?”
“It appears to be missing.”
“Because I haven’t needed to lock this closet ever.” Miss Patterson’s voice tightened. “Therefore there was no need for a key. Until today, that is.”
“Have you called a locksmith? Doesn’t the janitor have a master set of keys?”
Mr. O’Mara nodded. “We’ve called in a locksmith from Clearwater, but he can’t get here for another hour. And for some reason, it appears that Mr. Gordon doesn’t possess a key to this particular door, either.”
“So you have a door in the kindergarten classroom that locks from the inside, but has no key?”
“As I said...” Miss Patterson drew herself up to her full five-foot-two-inch height, as if posturing would help the situation. “We haven’t needed one—until today.”
“That doesn’t eliminate the negligence of not having one,” Luke offered. His tone was mild, but tension rolled off him. “Right now my son is locked in a closet and we can’t get him out. With Aiden’s history...”
Rainey had no idea what Aiden’s history was, but a giggle from the closet interrupted Luke.
A second giggle joined the first.
Clearly, the two children were more at peace with the situation than the four adults gathered around the door.
“Aiden Campbell, open that door. Now.”
Silence reigned momentarily before being broken by another laugh.
Rainey nudged Luke with her elbow. When he turned, she swept his sheriff’s attire a quick glance. “He’s obviously in awe of the uniform. And your authority.”
Luke sighed and eyed the hinges before shifting his attention to the principal. “Can we pop the hinges?”
Mr. O’Mara shook his head. “They appear slightly warped, so no. We can’t.”
More whispers and giggles from inside the closet weren’t helping the situation, although Rainey was tempted to laugh right along with the two naughty kids. What did that say about her lack of parenting ability?
Miss Patterson’s anxiety was sky-high, and Mr. O’Mara had gone from frustrated to angry with himself. “It’s certainly a situation we’ll rectify now that we’ve been made aware of it. The lack of key and the bad hinges. But in the meantime...” He cast a glance to the locked closet. “We have a problem.”
“Call Dorrie in here,” Luke advised.
Rainey turned, puzzled.
Mr. O’Mara seemed surprised at the request, as well. Miss Patterson rolled her eyes. “That’s a big help.”
“It could be.” Luke’s tight tone said Miss Patterson was skating on thin ice. His grim expression said he found the teacher’s behavior unacceptable. “Dorrie’s got a knack for dealing with these two, as odd as that might seem. Shall I get her?” he asked Mr. O’Mara.
The principal turned on his walkie-talkie. “I’ll have her sent right over.”
Moments later, Dorrie skipped into the room, one pigtail dangled low, half undone. The other still hung neatly in place with a perky purple ribbon. She looked happy, spunky and delightfully normal. “Mommy! Luke! What are you doing here?”
Luke cut straight to the chase. “Sonya and Aiden have locked themselves in this closet. Can you get them to come out, please?”
“Well, yeah. Sure.” She bounced across the room, tapped on the door twice, paused, then tapped twice again.
“Dorrie!”
“Dorrie, you’re here!”
Two little voices chimed her name in unison.
Luke met the principal’s curious glance. “That’s the secret knock they use in their tree house at my place.”
“Ah.”
“Why are you guys in the closet?” Dorrie asked.
Not one of the adults had asked the kids why they’d locked themselves in there.
“Sonya was sad,” Aiden explained.
Oh... Rainey’s heart melted a little, thinking of how kind Luke’s son must be.
“So she hid in the closet?” Dorrie’s tone said that was kind of a dumb thing to do.
“No.” Sonya’s voice this time. “I went to a thinking place, like we do at Luke’s. In the tree house. And Aiden said he wanted to think, too.”
“Well, are you done?” Dorrie’s voice hovered near impatience. “Because I’ve got things to do and if you’re done thinking, then get out of there. Okay?”
“All right.”
“Okay.”
The adults waited, almost not breathing, watching for the handle to turn. Listening for the lock to disengage.
Click.
The tiny sound had them all breathing a sigh of relief. The door handle turned, paused, then turned again, and when the door swung outward, two little hands were clutching the knob.
“We did it!”
“Yeah, we did!” Aiden and Sonya high-fived each other, but their joyous expressions faded when they spotted the crowd of adults just outside the door.
Luke scooped up Aiden.
Rainey did the same to Sonya.
Dorrie arched a brow at both children. “Guys, you can’t do that in kindergarten.” She flounced her one tight ponytail for effect. “You have to stay in your chair and think.”
Sonya rolled her eyes, amazed. “No one can do that.”
Aiden sent Dorrie a similar look, then buried his head in Luke’s shoulder.
“Let’s walk down to my office, shall we?” Mr. O’Mara’s request held a mixture of relief and consternation. “Miss Patterson, we’ll let you return to the rest of your class.”
Luke didn’t seem relieved to have his kid out of a scrape as much as furious that this had happened in the first place.
Was there something wrong with Rainey that she wasn’t so upset? She was amused, yes. Angry? Not so much.
But she and Miss Sonya would have a heart-to-heart talk about locking doors, once they got home.
Mr. O’Mara pointed to the bench outside his office. “If the kids would like to sit here while we talk, that would be fine.”
“Fine?” Luke sputtered the word and held his son tighter. “Mr. O’Mara, nothing about this whole situation could be called fine. You put my kid at risk. You put Sonya at risk. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that you put an entire kindergarten class at risk by not having a key to that art closet.”
“Maybe not the whole kindergarten,” Rainey murmured. When Luke stared at her, she shrugged. “It’s only big enough to hold two or three kids at a time, tops.”
“This isn’t funny.” The clipped note in his voice underscored his emotion.
Rainey reached up to touch Aiden’s cheek, then ruffled Sonya’s hair. “It is, kind of. I think it shows great resourcefulness that these two took a calming technique you taught them and put it to good use. But next time, don’t lock the door.” She made eye contact with both kids, one at a time. “Locked doors are dangerous if we don’t have a key.”
“Exactly.” Luke’s glare said she’d finally made a good point.
“So we’ll get a key for that door, but only grown-ups will use it. And if you need thinking time away from the other kids, what should you do?”
Sonya shrugged.
Aiden glared at her, much like his father was doing.
“Tell a grown-up,” Rainey instructed. “Grown-ups are on your side. I promise.” She settled a look of honest, trusting patience on each child in turn, praying the sincerity of her words would reach them. From what she could see, she was successful, and she wasn’t afraid to thank God for that.
