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She tossed her things into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel.
Only it wouldn’t start. The motor made an irritating grinding sound, but wouldn’t catch. She tried again with the same results. Then she got out of the car.
This topped her day. It really did. She felt like kicking tires or something, like one of her students might. If that would help—which it wouldn’t. Her hands on her hips, she merely stared at the vehicle. Now what?
“Trouble, Miss Richmond?” A deep voice startled her.
She glanced over her shoulder. J.D. strolled her way. He had a lazy grace when he wasn’t angry or tense. A naturalness. Something that didn’t come from a gym.
Alexis hadn’t noticed him sitting in the old black truck parked on the street—half the population of this country town owned trucks. She glanced that way, wondering where Cliff was. The boy leaned out the window, looking bored. He didn’t wave. She supposed he was still miffed with her.
“Yes. I suppose I’d better call someone. I don’t believe there’s a dealership in town for my car.”
“I know a little about mechanics.”
“Ah…yes. I suppose you do.” In her opinion, most men arrogantly assumed they knew about motors and that women had no clue.
“Don’t know if I can help. Small engines are my specialty.”
“Sorry.” She felt her cheeks flush. Of course he might know something about motors. She’d forgotten what his business was. “I hadn’t thought…”
“Let me take a look-see.”
“All right. That’s very kind of you.” On the playground adjoining the parking lot, Alexis heard the thump-thump of a basketball hitting the pavement. High school kids often used the grounds after school.
J.D. leaned past her, bending to the button inside her car and popping the hood. She stepped out of his way, murmuring, “Thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
A disembodied voice backed by static began to give out information: “North on old Chaney Road…they need an ambulance…”
Looking for the source, she spotted a two-way radio clipped to J.D.’s belt. He ignored it and didn’t respond.
“Are you on an emergency response team?” she asked idly. Home-grown resources were good to know, and she filed away the knowledge in her teacher’s mental file.
“Volunteer fireman. Not much need this past year, though, since Sunny Creek raised enough money to go with a couple of full-timers.”
She heard the slam of the truck door. Cliff ran over and leaned under the yawning hood. His dark hair in his eyes, he nudged closer and hitched himself higher, almost crawling into the engine.
“Move, Cliff,” J.D. muttered, though not unkindly.
Cliff’s attention didn’t last long. The boy soon wandered over to watch the ballplayers. Another youth streamed by on his skateboard, instantly engaging Cliff’s interest.
“Do you know what’s wrong?” Alexis asked. As old as the car was, the problem might be anything. She only prayed it wouldn’t cost an arm to have fixed.
“Um…there’s a break in the radiator hose.”
“Uh-oh. How hard is that to fix?”
“Can’t. You need a new one.”
“Can I get one tonight?”
“Probably not. Don’t worry about it. Cliff and I can run you home, and I’ll come by in the morning and put a new one on for you.”
He sounded competent and unexpectedly kind, but she wasn’t too sure if she should accept his offer. This was a small town. People noticed when a teacher didn’t arrive home in her own vehicle. They’d raise an eyebrow if a teacher became friends with a single father.
Yet she didn’t relish walking the nearly two miles to her apartment tonight.
“Well…” Alexis glanced toward the school building. She could always beg a ride with Mrs. Henderson, the principal. Her car was in the lot, so she was still there. Yet who knew when Lavinia would be ready to leave?
“Cliff!” J.D. called, seeming to take for granted that she had accepted his offer. “Let’s go.”
Though they could see him trailing after the skate-boarder, Cliff didn’t respond.
“Da— Um—” J.D. caught himself, giving her a rueful glance, letting her know she was the reason. Humor edged his mouth when he checked his language. “Drat, the boy. He ignores me all too often.” J.D. raised his voice. “Cliff!”
“It’s really kind of you to help, Mr. Sullivan, but I don’t want to put you out.” She wasn’t sure it was the thing to do—letting him know where she lived. Although, in this small town it wouldn’t take much detective work to find her—if someone really wanted to know. “You have your shop to get back to, I’m sure. And Cliff to take care of. Why don’t I just—”
But her thought was interrupted when Cliff finally headed toward them. J.D. jerked his chin toward the truck and gestured for her to move.
“Just hold on to your patience, Miss Richmond, and climb in.” J.D. held the truck door wide, handing Cliff onto the bench seat with ease. Then he held out a hand to her.
It would be ridiculous to refuse. Of course it would.
“We’ll have you home in no time,” he said. “Five minutes more away from my shop right now won’t make a difference. I’ll be open a little later anyway, since it’s Friday night.”
“Oh…um…” she muttered, contemplating the vehicle. The aged truck no longer had a step up. The only way she’d make it into that seat was to elevate her skirt high enough to give herself the mobility she needed to climb. But to refuse would be totally un-gracious.
“Thank you.” Throwing modesty to the winds, she hiked her purse to her shoulder, tossed her book bag before her, then lifted her skirt above her knees. She hadn’t a hand left to grab anything to pull herself up.
His hand slipped under her elbow as she stepped up to reach the truck floor. For half an instant, she felt his warm breath on her cheek. Then she was up on the black leather seat next to Cliff.
“I do appreciate it,” she said, turning just as his eyes lifted from her legs. His mouth softened as his gaze skittered away. She tugged her skirt back to her knees, feeling her cheeks flush like a teenager’s.
She hadn’t blushed in years.
“But if you don’t mind—” she gently cleared her throat “—let me out at Fifth and Dogwood, please. I’m expected at a friend’s house.”
That should do it. He needn’t know that she planned to spend her Friday evening with eighty-eight-year-old Mrs. Nelson.
He needn’t think she was flirting with him, either.
Chapter Three
Early the next morning, Alexis shoved her feet into her running shoes, tied the laces, then twisted her ponytail under a royal-blue baseball cap. Bending, she engaged in a few stretches. Walking the less than two miles to school wasn’t normally a problem. She’d done it several times last autumn, skipping through bright leaves while dreaming of her wedding plans. Plans that, over the winter, had fallen apart like a handful of dry sand tossed into the wind.
Lately she’d done no more than a desultory lunchtime stroll around the school playground. She had checked her personal disappointment at the door, hiding it behind bright smiles and teasing encouragement as she sauntered among the children. She drew the line at letting her negative emotions affect her school performance. Her kids needed all her positive energies.
Past time to put all that behind her, she mused, and to move on with her life. The physical exercise was good for her. She revved up her resolve. Last night’s half-mile walk home from Mrs. Nelson’s had been a snap.
It’s a good time to talk with You, Lord…. she prayed now.
Switching a few items from her purse to a fanny pack, she tossed her cell phone on her bedside table. No outside distractions today. No chattering children nor classroom demands.
Changing seasons always reminds me of Your design for our personal changes, Father. I’ve been lax in my devotions lately. Please forgive me and help me know which direction You want me to pursue now that I’m single again. This is the second time I’ve nearly married the wrong choice for me. With all the mistakes I’ve made in choosing the wrong men in my life, I don’t think I know any longer.
Sunshine drifted through budding trees to dapple the old sidewalk with shadow lace. It caught her fancy, bringing a smile to her lips. Alexis felt her heart lift in appreciation of the morning’s beauty. Unable to help herself, she dawdled and admired the blossoming crocus in the yard nearest the school.
On this lazy spring Saturday, she expected most people to have a late start to their day. Finding J.D. in the school parking lot before her surprised her.
She quickened her step. His long, lean back was bent over her motor, and she could see only the curve of his face. He wore a dark, aged T-shirt that stretched along his shoulders and biceps as he moved. It stirred her senses. He reminded her of a calendar she once had in college that featured gorgeous blue-collar males. Firemen. Cops. Construction workers. All clothed and tastefully done, but nonetheless shining examples of male beauty.
Swallowing hard, she silently lamented, Lord, this isn’t helping. Why can’t I see attraction in the right man for a change? I didn’t even think Ron was this cute at first, and he had a few of the qualities I’ve been looking for. This guy is so off-the-mark for me….
From what she could see, he didn’t fit a single thing she wanted in a life mate. Short-tempered. Short on advanced education. Limited horizons.
Although to be fair, she didn’t think J. D. Sullivan short on intelligence—he just didn’t apply it to help himself much.
She had a mental list of the qualities, interests and goals she wanted—hoped and prayed—to share with a husband. Truth be known, she had a written list, too, one she’d made out at twenty. And revised at twenty-five. Now she’d have to look at it again, she supposed.
But all in all, there was something different about this man. J. D. Sullivan had an element she had yet to put her finger on.
He glanced up at that moment. In the sunlight, his brown eyes glinted with golden sparks. His mouth moved. Not in a smile exactly, but with an involuntary acknowledgment of her presence.
It was quickly hidden before he said, “Almost got it done.”
She glanced away, letting her gaze rove the school yard. “Where’s Cliff? I thought he’d be here with you this morning.”
“He’s right—” J.D. stopped what he was doing and shrugged. After glancing around, he let out a disgusted breath. “Well, he was there a minute ago. On his skateboard.”
He stuck his head back under the hood, mumbling. “That boy is just asking for it. I’m likely to lock him in his room and throw away the key if he keeps this up. Told him to stay close by, but he keeps disappearing on me. Kid can’t seem to follow the simplest orders.”
A flare of irritation shot up her body. She tried to tamp it down, realizing she did not know the circumstances of their situation. This adjustment was extremely difficult on both of them, and it touched a sympathetic chord in her. But…how dare J.D. treat his son with such flippant lack of concern? Didn’t he love the child at all? Didn’t he care what the boy got himself into? Where he went?
Cliff must feel the loss of his mother keenly. How could the child cope with a father who rebuffed him?
Alexis felt so blessed. She’d had a loving set of parents and two older sisters to nurture her through childhood. They accepted her completely. Plus she had a plethora of extended family to fill her life. There never was a time when she hadn’t felt wanted and cherished. Even after her recent breakup with Ron, she’d never doubted her family’s love, nor her Lord’s.
She leaned against the car door, silently praying, Father, give me patience…and wisdom….
Perhaps that was the major problem. Just maybe neither of these two felt loved. According to the paperwork she had, this father and son had only each other. And since they’d just been reunited after a five-year absence, they were near strangers. Perhaps J.D. didn’t know how to love his son. Or even know what it was to love.
You’re the teacher….
Her breath came sharply and lodged uncomfortably just under her breastbone. J.D glanced her way, his expression quizzical.
“Cliff is probably on the other playground,” she said abruptly. Turning on her heel, Alexis went to search for him. “I’ll find him.”
She sprinted around the building to the small playground in back of the original section of the school. Then she rounded the corner, seeing no one. She wasn’t surprised. This field was seldom used anymore because most of the classes found it too small.
She heard children’s voices and noisy activity from up the way. Crossing the street, she hurried along the old broken sidewalk. Still yards distant, she spotted three boys.
It wasn’t a friendly scene.
Skateboard raised high above his head, Randy Brown’s irritated voice floated out to her. Alexis remembered him from last year, her first year of teaching in Sunny Creek. The boy was two grades higher than Cliff, half a head taller and a bit of a bully. He was yelling in strident tones, “You don’t know nothin’, brat, so just stuff it.”
Jason Kell, also two years older and even taller than Randy, stood with arms crossed, glaring at Cliff.
When she strolled up to them, he rolled his eyes in distaste, letting her know his opinion of the younger boy.
Cliff had his back to her. He didn’t seem to notice their ire. He was talking a mile a minute. “I do so. I can do lots of tricks. I watched how they do it out in California. They’re better’n any of you guys. They have a monster track. I’m going to be a champion and stuff, just like them. You wait to see.”
Her first instinct was that she’d arrived just in time. It was clear that Cliff had worn out his welcome.
As she smiled at the older boys, she saw recognition of her teacher’s status flash across Randy’s face.
“Hi, guys.”
They mumbled a hello. Cliff kept talking.
“Cliff?”
He glanced over his shoulder impatiently. “Yeah?”
She held out her hand. “Let’s go. Your dad wants you.”
“He’s busy doing something else,” he protested. He dropped his skateboard, stepping up and pushing off to ride the length of the concrete drive. Away from her.
“Yes, but he wants you now.” She firmed her tone. “Come along, we need to go.”
The skateboard hit a bump and tipped. Cliff jumped off awkwardly, barely avoiding a fall. Randy and Jason snickered.
Cliff glared with all the ferocity of a wolf pup.
Alexis hid her sigh. Cliff already sported skinned knees, so she suspected he’d taken a number of recent falls. She didn’t see much of his father’s grace in the boy’s movements. He would have to grow into that, she supposed. It might take a while.
Meantime, he was ripe for all the teasing grief he’d already encountered. If only he didn’t invite it.
She casually moved toward him, not wanting to cause alarm. Yet her movement held command.
“I don’t see why I have to leave.” Cliff’s tone was contentious. “He’s looking at your car.”
“That’s right. But he’s almost through and he needs you.” She tipped her head, giving her statement additional authority. “Now, let’s go.”
Cliff’s face took on all the aspects of the proverbial Missouri mule. But after a moment, he picked up his board and followed her up the terrace to the playground. “I don’t see why I can’t stay here…”
Out of earshot of the other boys, she slowed her step to let him walk alongside of her. “I know you like to ride your board, Cliff,” she said in sympathy. “There will be other times when you can practice.”
