“You know, Mr. Finkenbinder is a good man. But he’s always alone. I worry about him.”
Mrs. Herschel stumbled a bit, and Ellie said, “Here, grab my arm.”
“Oh, you’re sweet.” Her gloved fingers gripped tighter than Ellie would have thought possible. “But with his nephew showing up this fall…”
Curious about the secretary’s perspective on him, Ellie listened closely.
“Now today, he has me looking for his lady friend.That’s never happened before either. I think you and Mr. Finkenbinder could work out. You’ll soften his rough edges and he’ll give you structure.” Mrs. Herschel sighed the sigh of old-lady matchmakers everywhere.
Ellie didn’t have the heart to remind Mrs. Herschel that she wasn’t good enough for Fink. She didn’t want to say it at all. It hurt to think that she didn’t measure up. That she needed a piece of paper attached to her name to make her worthy.
She steadied Mrs. Herschel as they crossed a small ditch and headed toward the home-side bleachers. The crowd cheered and her head turned toward the field.
Of course, she could leave the farm and take art classes. Now that Harper was graduating in the spring, she was no longer tied to the farm for her daughter. Harper was already accepted at Penn State, and she planned to commute for the first year, so she’d be around to help with the farm.
If she went after her art dream, she would have to leave her in-laws with all the farmwork. She wasn’t sure she wanted to do that. The thought caused a vague uneasiness to slide through her. Art school might have been her dream at one time, but it wasn’t what she wanted anymore. She loved the farm and, if she were honest, didn’t want to leave.
They stopped at the foot of the crowded bleachers.
“Oh, there he is.” Mrs. Herschel pointed to a group of well-dressed people at the bottom of the stands. Fink sat beside a woman in an elegant dressy coat.
Ellie’s heart seized. Dr. Danielle Rothschild. Until Ellie had dropped out, they’d been in the same class. Friends in elementary school. Competitors in high school. Enemies after Liam choose Ellie over Danielle.
Even from here, Ellie could see that her hair was perfectly coffered. It shone in the lights. She held herself with an aristocratic bearing that bespoke confidence and class. Danielle said something and Fink laughed. Ellie’s chest tightened. Maybe she didn’t particularly want to go to art school, or even to leave the farm, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to stay and be reminded every time she saw Fink of how she didn’t measure up either.
Wishing she’d put on something a little fancier than the clothes she’d been working in, she nodded at Mrs. Herschel. “I see him.”
“Oh good. Because there’s my husband. I’m going to scoot on up to him. He’s saved me a seat right beside him.”
Which was more than Fink had done. He had the aristocratic woman on one side of him, and a woman with a small child on her lap on the other.
Mrs. Herschel dropped her hand from Ellie’s arm. “I know he’s expecting you. He said so, honey,” she murmured, as though she’d sensed Ellie’s hesitation.
She nodded. “Thanks, Mrs. Herschel.”
“Go get him, Ellie dear.” The little lady nodded at Fink. “He needs someone like you in his life.”
Ellie smiled, like she assumed she was supposed to, and Mrs. Herschel climbed the bleacher steps.
Tempted to turn tail and run, Ellie glanced at the field before taking a deep breath and plunging through the students standing at the rail at the front of the bleachers. Cheerleaders chanted and danced in front of them as she wound her way through.
Most of the people in the stands were dressed like her—sweatshirts and jeans, minus the work boots—so Fink’s group, in their dress coats, pressed slacks, and good shoes, stood out. She was only twenty feet away when he glanced up from his conversation with the woman holding the child, and his eyes met Ellie’s. The serious expression melted away and a grin split his face. He stood, belatedly looking down and mouthing, “Excuse me,” to the woman who had still been talking.
She waited while he scooted around the group he was with and strode toward her.
“Ellie! I’m sorry you walked over yourself. There’s two minutes and forty-seven seconds left in the half. I was making myself wait until the two-minute mark to walk over.” He grinned. “I didn’t think you’d be early.”
Okay. So he had a good point there. She did have a reputation for tardiness. She returned his smile, pleased that he’d acted a little like it’d been days, rather than hours, since he’d last seen her.
“Mrs. Herschel walked over with me.” She shrugged. “I’m a big girl, though, really. I can be by myself.”
“Well, I know your in-laws couldn’t make it with you. I mean, I assumed they’d need to stay at the farm and keep things going.”
“Yeah, they were disappointed that they couldn’t come, but it’s the sacrifice you make when you own a business.” They had insisted that she go. She hadn’t put up much of an argument.
“Come on over here and sit down. Do you mind?” he added as an afterthought.
“Not at all. Thanks for including me. This will be perfect to see Harper.”
She almost thought he was going to take her hand, but he stuck his hand in his pocket instead, leading her to where he’d been sitting.
“Dr. Rothschild, this is Ellie Bright. Her daughter, Harper, is homecoming queen, and she’s going to watch the ceremony with us.”
Danielle’s lips flattened as her cold blue eyes narrowed. Her gaze skimmed over Ellie’s work attire.
“Ellie and I know each other,” Danielle said coolly.
Fink’s brows furrowed.
Ellie lifted her chin and held her hand out. “It’s been a while, Danielle.” She glanced at Fink. “Until I quit, we were in the same class in school.”
Danielle used three fingers and touched Ellie’s hand with light pressure. Her mauve fingernails glinted in the light. Her gaze, narrowed and calculating, slid to Fink before landing back on Ellie. “Congratulations on your daughter’s election.” If one could look down one’s nose while looking up at a person, Danielle had accomplished it.
“Thanks.” Ellie tried to sound sincere.
“Do you mind sliding over, and she and I will sit on the end?” Fink asked.
Danielle moved her posterior over, and Fink indicated for Ellie to sit beside her.
By the time Ellie got settled and looked up, only a few seconds were left in the half.
Fink leaned over to her ear. “I’m so glad you could make it. I think Harper is pretty excited.”
“I bet she is. I’ve texted her, but it’s Friday, which is always busy at the farm, and I haven’t talked to her. She wasn’t even set on going to the dance, since we’re shorthanded, so we’ll actually have to go shopping tomorrow for a dress.” Ellie hadn’t figured out how they were going to accomplish that. Saturdays were busy all day.
“Want me to come out in the morning for a while to help out?”
Her head spun around. She almost bumped his nose with hers, he was that close. “Would you?”
“Of course. I owe you.” He lowered his voice. “These people really sound interested in our district, and the float you’ve made will only be an asset.”
“Is there something special about these people?”
“They’ve got money.” He shrugged.
“I see.” The wind gusted and she reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Fink captured her hand with his own. He kissed her knuckle before tucking their clasped hands into his jacket pocket.
Her eyes widened. “People might see.”
“It’s hard to care. You’re so beautiful with your bright cheeks and flashing eyes. Natural. It’s magnetic.”
She couldn’t believe Fink was holding her hand. He squeezed it, and they shared a smile before the loudspeaker crackled, announcing the royalty parade.
If someone had told her she’d be watching her daughter ride around the Chestnu
t Hill football field in the back of a pickup as homecoming queen, she might have believed it. If they had added that Ellie would be holding Mr. Finkenbinder’s hand while she watched, she’d have laughed in their face. But she was. And it felt perfect.
After the announcements ended, the royalty were introduced, and the parade looped the track, the loudspeaker squawked with calls to support the Boosters by purchasing food at their stand, and people began getting up and walking around.
“I’d better get going,” she said, but couldn’t seem to get her butt to leave the seat.
“I’ll walk you out.”
“You don’t need to.”
“But I can, if I want to?”
“Of course.”
He stood, letting go of her hand, but putting his on the small of her back after she stood. He faced Danielle. “Ellie has to go back to work. I’m walking her out. Would you like anything? A burger or fries or drink?”
“No thank you,” Danielle said through pinched lips.
“She doesn’t like me much,” Ellie said, after they’d reached the bleacher steps and started down.
“She doesn’t like me either, but she’s the president of the school board, and I need her vote on Wednesday.”
Ellie had gotten a different impression of Danielle’s affections for Fink, but she kept her mouth shut.
A gangly teen rushed up the steps, tripping, and knocked into Ellie. She lost her balance and stumbled into Fink. He grabbed her to keep her from falling off the last two steps.
“Mr. Rheems. Watch yourself,” he said to the teen.
“I’m sorry, Mr. F. Ma’am. Are you okay?” The kid’s face was solid red and he shuffled his large feet.
“I’m fine.” Ellie had caught her balance with no harm done, but Fink again had ahold of her hand. This time, their linked hands were not in his pocket.
“Be careful, Mr. Rheems, and don’t run on the bleachers.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. F.” The boy turned and continued up the stairs. Slowly.
Fink looked down at Ellie. “Are you really okay? He hit you pretty hard.”
“I’m fine. Really.” She stared into his eyes, breathless, but not from getting bumped by a high school boy. It had more to do with Fink holding her hand in plain view of everyone.
“Let’s go.” He finished descending the stairs and their fingers stayed entwined.
After skirting the edge of the track, they started up the hill. Students and parents alike greeted Fink as they passed. More than one raised an eyebrow.
Figuring he must not realize they were still linked, she tried to pull her hand away. He tightened his fingers and looked down at her. He lifted their hands.
“This bothers you?”
“I thought you didn’t realize. I don’t mind at all.”
“I realize.” His hand squeezed hers. “Maybe you should mind. Because I wanted to take you behind the bleachers and do more than just hold your hand.”
Her eyes popped open. “Fink?”
“How could anyone spend the week working with you and not fall under your spell?”
“Spell?”
He shook his head. “It must be a spell. I’ve been working toward the superintendent position for almost fifteen years, trying to shuck the farm boy from Iowa image. But right now, I don’t care about that, or Dr. Rothschild, or the families thinking about choosing to relocate to our district. Any of it. I want to leave with you, be with you. I don’t even recognize myself. That’s some spell.”
“I’m shocked.”
His mouth tightened. It was much less crowded this close to the gate, but Fink was quiet as they passed a high school couple walking in, holding hands.
He turned, maybe to make sure the couple was out of earshot, before he walked through the gate with her. Then he pulled her over toward an equipment shed, out of the light.
“You could say, ‘Fink, I feel the same about you,’” he said roughly.
“I thought you knew it.”
“Aren’t we having this conversation backward? Isn’t it the woman who’s supposed to say, ‘I need to hear the words’? And the man who says, ‘I told you once, and if anything changes I’ll let you know’?”
She laughed, as maybe he intended. He pulled her hand, spinning her until her back was against the dark side of the shed. He moved closer, releasing her hand to wrap his around her waist, his other hand in her hair.
“I saw you leaving this morning, and my whole body ached to talk to you. Touch you. Actually, I had a whole group of people in my office and all I could think about was running after you and doing this.” His mouth covered hers.
She immediately opened under him. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer.
He groaned.
She caught the sound in her mouth, savoring it. He wanted her. He’d thought about kissing her.
Holy cow, he was kissing her. Even with the passion that had erupted in her chest, she couldn’t contain her giggle.
He lifted his head, his breathing choppy. His hand splayed flat on the shed wall beside her head. “My kissing is funny?”
“Gosh, no. Never. My head is spinning and I can’t think, but I don’t want you to stop.”
“You laughed.”
“I’m making out with the principal behind the equipment shed. It has a surreal quality to it.”
“I see.” His thumb traced down her cheek, along her jawline. “Surreal in a good way?”
His voice was tender, but a little uncertain. Her heart leaped in response. She pulled him closer, standing on tiptoe to kiss his hard jaw. “The best way.”
He growled and his mouth came back down on hers. His hand slipped under her T-shirt. She shivered and pushed closer. His fingers spanned her waist, but he pulled his head back and rested his forehead on hers.
“I was going to wait until Thursday. I didn’t want anything to interfere with the decision for superintendent, but I spent the day thinking it didn’t matter if I even got the position anymore. As principal, I have summers off and could help you on the farm. As superintendent that would be impossible.” He took a deep breath. “That’s making an awful big assumption that you want me to help.”
“I want you.” She pulled back. “But I don’t want you to miss out on a career opportunity because of being seen with me.” It hurt to say it. Hurt to think people might think less of him for being with her. But small-town folk had long memories. No one had forgotten she’d gotten pregnant at fifteen and never finished high school. Was that the type of person they wanted their school superintendent to marry? For the most part, probably not.
He held her chin and seemed to search her eyes in the darkness. “Didn’t you hear me say I don’t care?”
“But I do.”
He huffed. “Are we still on the float tomorrow night?”
“Yes. Dad needs to be at the farm, so our neighbor is driving the tractor.”
“As long as we’re together behind the moon.”
She laughed and cupped his cheek with her hand. “Please don’t allow me to stand between you and the superintendent position.”
“Please don’t push me away just because I have a degree and a position in the school administration.”
Ellie froze. That could be true. She might be just as bigoted as she’d been accusing him of being. “If I’m pushing you away, it’s not because you have an education. It’s because I don’t.”
“Isn’t that the same as if I were to push you away because I do and you don’t?” His fingers traced down her cheek.
“I expect that.”
“Does that make it right?”
“It’s normal.”
“You’re not judging me as a man, on my merits, but only on some slip of paper I have.”
Her mouth opened and closed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, but that’s exactly what I was doing.” She leaned her head against the shed.
“A lot of times we’re blind to our own prejudices. I know I was.”
�
�Willfully blind.” Had she been prejudiced? “Maybe when you think that other people are judging you, it’s easier to judge them back rather than turn the other cheek.”
“Maybe.” He lowered his head and nuzzled her cheek.
She turned her head, meeting his lips. His hand moved on her waist, and she slid both her hands into his open jacket. He was solid muscle, and her fingers tingled as they learned his shape through his dress shirt.
He pressed closer and their kiss deepened.
She heard a moan, and she honestly wasn’t sure if it was him or her.
“Mr. Finkenbinder?”
Ellie jerked back, recognizing the feminine voice.
Chapter Fourteen
Dr. Rothschild stood at the edge of the shed, squinting into the darkness where they stood. Her low, sling-back pump tapped the gravel and she crossed her arms in front of her cream blouse and light blue dress coat. Her mouth was set in a straight, flat line.
“I don’t think this is appropriate behavior. Not from the school principal, and certainly not from the district superintendent.” Despite her civilized tone, her words were tight and clipped. Ellie closed her eyes. She’d thought the woman had a bit of a thing for Fink. Who wouldn’t? And the adage about the fine line between love and hate seemed applicable here.
Unless Ellie moved to stop it, Fink’s chances at superintendent were most likely gone.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Rothschild. Fink, um, Mr. Finkenbinder didn’t know I was going to drag him behind the shed, and, uh, jump him.”
“Well, that seems very believable to me, except for one thing.” Dr. Rothschild tilted her head. “His hand is up your shirt.”
“Well, you see, he was overcome—”
“Unlikely. You’re not exactly a person who inspires a man to lose his head with lust.”
“I beg to differ.” Fink slid his hand out from under her sweatshirt. She closed her eyes from the sweet friction.
Harvest Moon Homecoming Page 10
