by Jo Grafford
One of the baseboards creaked on the other end of the bridge.
“I wondered if you would come.” Josh’s voice drifted across the breeze, a good twenty feet or more from where she stood.
Hope whirled in his direction, shocked to see him striding her way. “Wh-what are you doing here?” she blurted, hating the fact that she’d been caught shedding tears. By him, of all people. And in this place of all places.
His brow wrinkled. “Didn’t your mother tell you?”
“Tell me what?” She stared at him in confusion, her vision blurring even more. A wave of weakness made her back up to lean against the railing.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he sighed, coming to stand before her. He was in his usual jeans and boots, though he’d shed his button-up shirt from earlier, along with his belt and buckle. No hat, either. He’d tossed on a navy t-shirt, one that revealed every slice and ridge of muscle in his massive arms and chest.
For a moment, Hope wondered if he’d come to gloat, but the only emotion he seemed to be displaying was intense concern. For her, unless she was mistaken. Which hardly made any sense.
“I own the place now.”
No! She caught her breath. “You?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re the one my mother…” Her voice cracked, rendering her unable to continue. Josh Hawling had purchased her childhood home! The place where her most sacred memories still lived. Memories of favorite pets, birthdays, holidays, and girlish sleepovers. Memories of when her father was still alive — when their family of three was still strong and intact.
“Again, yes.”
Since he’d already caught her weeping, there was no point in trying to hide it. “I’m not sure why you bothered,” she murmured brokenly. She was too moved, too raw to mince words. “You’re too late.”
They both knew she was referring to his unaccountable absence ten years ago, the day she’d left town.
“I know.” There was a world of remorse in his voice that she’d not been expecting.
It made her tears fall faster.
“I wanted to come,” he declared in a low, hoarse voice. “Believe me, I did.”
“But you didn’t,” she whispered.
At his silence, she speared him with an angry glance.
He shook his head mutely, his dark gaze burning into hers.
As painful as his silence was, she was grateful he didn’t offer any petty excuses. She honestly couldn’t think of any excuse in the world that would’ve justified his actions back then. Or lack thereof.
They stood there, staring in agony at each other. Funny how her brain chose that moment to pick up on the smallest detail, but she was suddenly glued to the way the breeze was riffling through his wavy hair. Hair the rich shade of dark chocolate, nearly black.
“You lied about so many things. About graduating. About summer school. About coming here.” She shook her head, trying to piece together what had gone wrong, and trying to make sense of what had happened afterward. “Guess you caved in to the pressure, huh? Lord knows nobody in town was ever going to approve of a Hawling dating a Remington.” She gave a bitter sigh.
Once upon a time, she’d been convinced that their love for each other was strong enough to overcome decades of small town prejudice. She’d been wrong.
More silence stretched between them. “I’m sorry,” Josh finally muttered. They were two simple words, but they sliced her in half all over again.
That’s it? You’re sorry? She stared at him, aghast. Sorry wasn’t good enough. Not after what he’d put her through. She deserved a better answer. A real answer after all this time.
But she couldn’t bring herself to ask her last, most burning question of all. Why? A part of her longed to know the truth, while the other part of her was terrified to hear it. Her heart quaked at the thought of finding out that he’d changed his mind about coming. Or, worse yet, that he simply hadn’t loved her enough to keep his word.
“You broke my heart, Josh.”
He paled.
A silent sob tore from her as a thousand accusations welled, but none of them found a voice. Moved beyond reason, she swung her arm. Her slap echoed across the narrow bridge, resounding all the way to her wounded soul.
He neither flinched nor stepped away. He just stood there, absorbing the pink stain of her handprint against his cheek.
Her breath came in heaving gasps, as she silently willed him to speak — to say something in his own defense. To say anything at all.
His mouth settled into a hard line. His eyes, however, were burning with raw emotions he was no longer making any attempt to hide. Sadness, longing, and something else that was harder to define.
Did it mean—? No, it simply wasn’t possible that he still cared. Not after all of this time. It was the one explanation, in her long list of possible explanations, that made the least sense of all.
With a sound of distress, she spun away from him and took off running across the bridge.
Chapter 3: First Day of School
Hope
Today is the big day. In less than an hour, teenagers from all over Heart Lake would start to trickle onto campus to begin their first day of school.
Hope steered her silver convertible Miata into her designated parking spot in the front circle drive. An enormous black Escalade was already stretching the Security parking spot from end-to-end behind her. Clearly, Josh Hawling had already arrived. Lucky me.
Her heart pounded a little faster as she stepped from her car, locked it, and gazed up the wide concrete stairs leading inside the old white and gray stone building. Heart Lake High had always felt a bit like a fortress, but never more so than it did today — a fortress in which she was going to have to go to battle for the hearts and minds of a hostile student body, starting in exactly fifty-seven minutes and thirty-two seconds. Smoothing a hand down one leg of her navy pantsuit and using the other hand to tug the strap of her briefcase higher on her shoulder, she mounted the stairs. Time to go slay dragons!
A quick glance over the railing proved that the tarnished Pioneer statue had been removed, as requested, from the courtyard. It had been taken down in the nick of time, too. The work crew had only finished patching the concrete walkway about thirty-six hours earlier. Talk about cutting things close.
She had to scan her employee ID at a panel mounted on the side entrance door to the left of the main entrance doors. There was an answering metallic click as the newly installed security system recognized her identity, allowing her access to the front office. She swung the door open and let herself inside.
Moving across the silent, unlit room, she made her way to the head principal’s office and flipped on the light. A soft fluorescent glow filled the area, gradually growing brighter as the energy efficient bulbs blossomed to their full wattage. She quickly secured her purse and booted up her desktop computer, so she could scan her calendar for the day. As planned, it was blessedly empty, except for the school-wide assembly that would take place in the gym first thing this morning. The rest of the day, she intended to spend being visible in the hallways, cafeteria, and outside walkways. In her experience, leadership was mostly about being present and accessible. Everything else was just details.
A light knock on her door frame had her glancing up from her desk. Josh Hawling’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. He was in a solid black button-up shirt with a security badge, jeans, and cowboy boots.
The man I’ve spent the last two weeks avoiding as much as possible. She stiffened as she scanned his features, hoping he didn’t plan to bring up her embarrassingly emotional outburst from their last encounter. His expression, fortunately, was all business.
“Do you need something, Coach Hawling?” Since they were alone, she saw no need to waste any effort on morning greetings or small talk. She’d barely spoken to him since their run-in on the covered bridge, making this the perfect opportunity to hit the reset button on the tone between them. One that she intended to keep strictl
y professional going forward.
“Nope. I come bearing gifts this time,” he announced in a bland voice. Raising his hand, he waved a rectangular silver pendant at her. It was dangling from a matching chain. “The board asked me to deliver this to you first thing this morning.”
Her gaze narrowed on the piece of jewelry. “They purchased me a necklace?” In the past, she’d received welcome gifts in the form of school t-shirts, pens, and mugs. Jewelry certainly wasn’t included in the usual lineup of school merchandise.
“Actually, it’s an emergency alert monitor that’ll bluetooth your whereabouts to our security team, should you ever need our assistance. All you have to do is push the button to bring us running.”
She wrinkled her nose. “In your professional opinion, do you think this is really necessary?” She was careful to stress the word professional.
“Yes, at least for the first few weeks of school. If we go a month or so without incident, the board says it’ll be up to you to decide whether you want to continue wearing it.”
“Only a month, huh?” She held out a hand, palm up. “Feels like overkill, but what can it hurt?”
He moved across the room to drop the alert monitor in her hand. “For what it’s worth, I think you made the right decision to take down the Pioneer statue.”
“Of course you do.” She spared him a tight smile as she pulled the chain of the security monitor over her head and tucked the pendant inside her white blouse. “You were a Range Rider growing up.” He’d played wide receiver all four years for the south side football team.
His jaw tightened. “So is this going to be our working relationship? You biting my head off no matter what I say?”
Her lips parted in surprise, and her face grew warm. “What I want is for both of us to leave our personal issues at the door and do our jobs. Period.”
“Fine,” he growled. “Let’s try this again. I like the fact that you took down that blasted statue, but there are students who might not appreciate it the same way I do. If anyone decides to retaliate in a way that makes you feel unsafe, that’s what the alert button on your monitor is for. If you push it, I will come running, regardless of how aware I am that you can’t stand the sight of me.”
He abruptly pivoted away from her and stomped from her office.
She stared after him, her emotions in a tangle as she fingered the alert monitor through the fabric of her blouse. You couldn’t be more wrong, Josh. Heaven help her, but the sight of him was far from unpleasant. Unsettling, yes. Upsetting, too. Nonetheless, she was as attracted to him as she’d been ten years ago. It was a problem she hadn’t counted on when she accepted this job. How could she, since she’d not known they would be working at the same school?
A tall, bronze-skinned Native American appeared next in the doorway. Though the two of them hadn’t met before, she recognized him from his photograph on the wall outside his office. He was her assistant principal, the school board’s top pick of administrators from the south side of town.
“I want to apologize for being out of town so close to the first day of school.” He paused in her doorway, as if hesitant to come barging in.
“Come in,” she urged, standing and moving around her desk. “There’s no need to apologize. I understand you were away on tribal business.” If she understood correctly, he was serving as the interim tribal chief, while the actual one was rapidly spiraling, following a diagnosis of lung cancer.
“Yes, but the timing wasn’t the greatest.” He looked regretful. “Now that I’m back, I promise to do everything I can to make your transition into your new job as smooth as possible.”
“I plan to work just as hard to make your transition just as easy,” she assured warmly. “Thanks for sticking it out, by the way.” Both the north side and south side head principals had resigned to pursue other opportunities when they’d learned about the combined high school initiative.
“You’re welcome. I’m Principal Lighthorse.” He held out a bronze hand. “Well, technically, I’m Wayne Whitaker on my birth certificate, but the students have always called me by my tribal name. Is that going to be a problem?”
“Not with me.” She shook his hand, liking what she saw in his somber, ebony eyes. He was wearing black trousers and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled. His long black hair flowed unbound down his back.
“Good to know.” He met her gaze squarely. “I’d like to get on your calendar soon to discuss some needs specific to the students from the reservation.”
“Absolutely. Just get with Laura, and she’ll set up the appointment.” She could easily understand why he might have concerns. The cluster of summer tornadoes had wiped out a significant number of Native homes and businesses on the reservation, including their schools. Today marked the first time in over a hundred years that their teens were attending high school elsewhere.
“Thanks. I’ll do that right away.” He inclined his head gratefully. “But first, I need to get down the hall. I saw your note about being on gym duty during the school assembly.”
“Thank you. I’ll be heading there shortly myself. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She was impressed with his humble attitude. “I look forward to our appointment.”
He bobbed his head again and disappeared out the door.
“Did I hear my name?” A curvy brunette popped her head around the corner next. A dimple in her chin appeared as she beamed a cheery smile in Hope’s direction. “Morning, Dr. Remington! Just wanted you to know I’m here. Let me know if you need anything.” Laura Milner was the office secretary and the proud mother of twin boys at the junior high down the road.
“Good morning.” Hope smiled back. “Just double check to make sure Trace over in IT has the mike and podium set up in the gym. I’ll be heading that way in about five.”
“You betcha.” Laura’s smile dimmed a few degrees. She fiddled with the hem of the black-and-white polka dot tunic she was wearing over a pair of black slacks. “I know we’re going to catch some flack from the parents on the north side of town about this, but I think you’re doing the right thing by having the kids vote on a new mascot.”
Hope stood and slipped her cell phone in her pocket. “Fortunately, we have your amazing self on the phones. Just keep pitching the upgrades to our Sports Hall of Fame to them, and keep asking for donation items. You might also want to stress our plan to engrave plaques with the names of the donating families and the stats of their athletes. Parents love to brag about the accomplishments of their children, and who doesn’t like to see their name on display?”
“Sounds like a plan, Dr. Remington.” Laura’s smile brightened again. “I’ll be sure to give Trace a quick buzz about the sound system.”
“And don’t forget to make that announcement about the school assembly, as soon as the first bell rings,” Hope called after her departing figure.
“Will do.” Laura fluttered her hand without turning around as she moved away. “Hope everything goes well with the school assembly.”
“Thank you, Laura.” Hope followed her out the door. She was immediately joined by Josh. It was as if he’d been waiting for her. She wondered if he intended to escort her all the way to the gym.
“I don’t need a guard dog,” she hissed, as he fell into step beside her. They strolled down the east hallway past the front office.
“I thought we agreed to let each other do our jobs,” he growled.
She ignored his comment as she greeted a cluster of teenage girls at the row of lockers nearest the office. “Good morning. Welcome to the first day,” she sang out.
Two of the girls eyed her quizzically, but their third companion gave a faint smile. “Uh, good morning.” Her gaze dropped to Hope’s name tag, and her eyes widened at the realization that she was addressing their new head principal.
Hope kept moving. She was purposefully traversing the hallway at one of the busiest times of day to be visible, not to make friends with the students. There was a huge difference
between being friendly and being friends. She was so busy greeting students that she almost forgot that Josh was dogging her heels like a faithful shadow.
“Whoa!” she called out merrily to a short, spindly student who was kicking his locker. “Doesn’t look like a fair fight to me, since the locker can’t kick back. What seems to be the problem?”
“Can’t get the lock to open,” he fumed, scowling over his shoulder at her. “I entered the right combination and everything. It just won’t…” He drew back his foot to administer another kick.
“Your homeroom teacher will double-check the combo you were given. If the lock is defunct, we’ll replace it, alright?” She glanced at her watch, knowing she needed to be in the gym shortly. “Who’s your homeroom teacher?”
By now, he’d caught sight of her name tag. “Mrs. Isaacson,” he mumbled, looking shamefaced.
It was the name of one of Heart Lake High’s ninth grade English teachers.
“Hey.” Hope bent her head to meet the nervous teen’s gaze. “The good thing is you only have to do your first day of freshman year once. It’ll be over in a few hours. I promise.”
Despite his discomfort, the student quirked a smile at her words. Satisfied that she’d calmed a stressed out new high schooler, as well as saved the life of an innocent locker, she continued her short trek to the gym. When she reached the double doors, she was surprised to discover they were still closed.
Josh’s hand shot out for the doorknob at the same time as hers, making their fingers brush.
She quickly withdrew her hand. “Do you mind propping open the doors?”
Giving her a hooded look, he nodded.
She sailed into the gym ahead of him, satisfied that her impromptu request would allow her to make the trip to the podium alone. Students were slowly trickling into the bleachers on either side of the room and being waved into four class sections by the teachers and Principal Lighthorse, all of whom were standing at the base of the bleachers. Seniors and juniors were to be seated on one side of the room, sophomores and juniors on the other.
