The Deputy's New Family

by Jenna Mindel

  “Look, I can work with him all summer long, every single night, but I need a game plan. Something you’re trained to give. All I’m asking is to get him where I can then pick up the slack come summer. Do whatever you need to do, only don’t throw your hands up and recommend he be pushed back a year because there’s only two months left of this one.” Nick’s steely gray eyes showed resolve.

  Beth frowned and rubbed her forehead. Corey was already at her house in the evening. She’d have to get it cleared through her boss, but this was a special circumstance. What she did on her own time was her business. In the few days the boy had been with her and her mom, Beth had already come to love the kid. She didn’t want to let him down, either.

  She glanced at Nick.

  “A big difference can be made in two months.” He gently thumped his ticket pad in his hand. A reminder of the speeding ticket she rightfully deserved.

  She laughed. “You know, extortion is illegal.”

  He gave her a slow grin that made her heart race. “Blackmail was never my intent.”

  Beth felt herself slipping, giving in. “You’ll need to finish Corey’s reading assignments after he leaves my mom’s. And I’m going to hound you.”

  “I’ve had worse nightmares.”

  She imagined that was true. There was so much strength hidden inside that wiry, well-over-six-foot steel frame of his. And a lot of feelings were locked behind those gray eyes, too.

  Beth held out her hand. “I’ll do what I can. Have we got a deal, Mr. Grey?”

  “I think we do, Miss Ryken. And we’ll work hard on our end—I promise you that.” He took her hand and held on, wrapping warmth and strength and all kinds of promises in one not-so-simple handshake.

  Chapter Four

  Come up with a plan. Nick had said that days ago and Beth had one. It had been slow coming together between progress reports for her other students and running it by her principal, but she’d done it. She’d even made up a progress booklet for Nick.

  She riffled through the papers on her desk—Corey’s papers from his previous school. Corey’s old school reports were as confusing as they were disheartening. The transcripts showed a downward spiral that started before Corey’s mom had died and then plummeted steeply afterward.

  “Poor kid.” Beth felt that undeniable pull for the boy.

  Corey had been jostled between special reading groups, and he’d been labeled with emotional problems that were never clearly explained. Had no one seen through to the obvious? Corey didn’t have a handle on phonics. Somewhere along the line, he’d missed the mark and by the time his mother had died, his emotional stresses had kicked in and his dwindling grasp on vowel sounds and rules had slipped. It was no wonder he got lost along the way. He’d never mastered how to identify the trail markers.

  Well, Beth knew a few things about marking trails. She’d start with flash cards, games, work sheets, whatever it took to get Corey more familiar with identifying sounds. And she had a stack of books for Nick so he could continue working with Corey at home in the evenings and on his days off. If he spent half an hour every day reading with Corey, it’d make a difference.

  Beth’s mom even promised to help where she could. The only variable she couldn’t predict was Corey’s reaction. His willingness to learn was key.

  She put away the sensitive papers, locked the drawer of her desk and then scooped up her stuff. Exiting her classroom, she spotted the other second-grade teacher, Julie, calling it a day, as well.

  “So, Beth, are you up for sailing the Manitous again this year?” Julie’s husband was a hotshot attorney with one sweet sailboat. Gerry was more than the average amateur sailor. Sailing with them had become a tradition and a fun way to celebrate the end of the school year and the start of summer.

  “I sure am.” Beth nodded. “Count me in, only please, no setups this year.”

  Julie frowned. “Oh, come on, he wasn’t so bad.”

  Beth tipped her head. Julie and Gerry had arranged a blind date with a guy from Gerry’s office. He was way too short and arrogant besides.

  Julie smiled. “You bring someone, then.”

  Beth’s mind immediately shifted to Nick, but that brown uniform he wore made her shake away any thoughts of sunset sailing with the handsome redhead. “We’ll see.”

  When Beth made it across the street to her mom’s house, she was armed with phonics lessons. Walking into the living room, she expected to find Corey in front of the TV. Instead he sat at the dining room table across from her mom. The two playing a game of Battleship.

  “B-3.” Corey’s hair hung in his eyes.

  Beth’s fingers itched to brush the kid’s bangs back, but she remained quiet and watched.

  “Nope. Miss.” Her mom wore an evil-looking grin. “My turn. F-8.”

  Corey’s face crumpled into irritation. “Hit.”

  “I’m home.”

  Neither one acknowledged her. They were caught up in the game. And it was close. Each had only one ship left, and Beth’s mom dove in for the kill on Corey’s big destroyer. It made Beth smile as she slipped upstairs to change into jeans.

  When she returned, Corey had put away the pieces while her mom started dinner. “Who won?”

  The look of disgust on Corey’s face clued her in.

  “Sorry. She always beat me, too. Are you ready to play some different games?”

  The boy looked cautious. “Like what?”

  “Sound games.” Beth spread out her flash cards.

  “That’s schoolwork, isn’t it?”

  Beth met the boy’s wary eyes. “Did your dad tell you that he asked me to be your tutor?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did he say why?”

  Corey looked down. “Because I don’t read good.”

  Beth touched his hand and gave him a big smile. “You will, Corey. I promise, in time you will read much better.”

  He looked at her with a lot of doubt in his face, but she spotted hope shining in his eyes.

  * * *

  Thursdays after school, Beth helped staff a kids’ art program. She milled between tables, helping where needed but mostly watching kids create. Corey sat at a table littered with paper, crayons and markers he hadn’t touched.

  Grace Cavanaugh worked beside him drawing a house on a piece of yellow construction paper. She cut out trees made of brown and green paper and then pasted them on the yellow. She glued cotton balls for clouds.

  “Don’t you like to color?” the little girl asked.

  Corey shook his head.

  “Why?”

  He shrugged.

  “This is our house. It’s for my mom.” Grace stuck the paper in Corey’s face.

  “My mom died.” Corey flicked the edge of the paper away.

  Beth sucked in a breath, but she remained quiet and watched the two kids interact.

  Grace set her paper down and tipped her head. She considered what Corey had said for a few seconds and then shrugged her shoulders. “That’s okay. I don’t have a dad. Maybe you’ll get a new mommy. Want me to help you get started? I know where everything’s at.”

  Corey nodded.

  “C’mere, then.”

  Beth’s eyes stung when Corey followed Gracie to the paper bins. She directed him to pick a color and he did. And then he followed her back to the table while she rattled off a host of things he could draw and she promised to help. God bless little Gracie. She’d broken into Corey’s shell.

  “Hey, Beth, got a minute?” Diane, their school counselor, leaned against the door.

  Beth scanned the room for the other teacher helping out. She spotted her assembling the supplies they’d need for tonight’s lesson in painting. The kids were busy chatting and hanging up their backpacks. She could duck out for a f
ew. “Yeah, sure.”

  Diane nodded toward the hall.

  Beth gave the other teacher a heads-up and then followed Diane out of the art room. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I understand you’re tutoring one of your students. The new boy, Grey, is it?”

  Beth folded her arms. “Corey Grey. I cleared it through Tammy. The boy’s behind in reading.”

  “Where are you working with him?”

  “My mom watches him after school, so we work at home. Why?”

  Diane looked concerned. “I had a long talk with Mr. Grey about his boy still grieving. Corey might latch on to you as a maternal replacement, so it might be wise to stay in teacher mode.”

  Gracie’s words whispered through Beth’s mind. Maybe you’ll get a new mommy. And something deep inside twisted, wishing...

  Not going there. Beth cleared her mind with a firm nod. “Gotcha.”

  “We should compare notes in a week or so to see how he’s settling in. Check for improvement.”

  “Sure. That’d be great.” Beth knew the routine.

  Because it was a small elementary school, grade-level teachers worked together as a team sharing lesson-plan notes and progress reports. But Diane seemed more careful than usual with Corey. Was it because of Nick’s position or Corey’s transcripts?

  Beth gestured toward the classroom. “He’s working with Grace Cavanaugh right now. And Thomas Clark has taken Corey under his wing, too. They’re all tablemates in the classroom.”

  “Good.” Diane gave her a nod. “Good pairings there.”

  Beth wanted to roll her eyes. That was why she’d placed Corey at their table. “I thought so.”

  Diane nodded again. “Okay, then, I’m heading home. We’ll meet soon.”

  “Sure thing.” Beth slipped back into the art room.

  “Miss Ryken, can you help us?” Gracie’s hand was in the air with a tube of paint. “We can’t get this open.”

  Beth popped the plastic top and handed it back. Both kids had donned aprons. Each one held a paintbrush.

  Corey looked nervous as he stared at the blank white paper clipped to a tabletop easel.

  Beth stood next to him and stared, too.

  Corey looked at her, his eyes unsure.

  “Let it fly, Corey.”

  “I don’t know what to make.”

  Gracie was busy painting big red flowers.

  Corey seemed too tentative. He did fine coloring preprinted pictures like the tall-ship work sheets in class, but the blank page intimidated him. Was that the result of his previous school making too much of the dark pictures the boy drew?

  “Sometimes playing with the colors creates something special all by itself. Give it a try.”

  Corey thought about that a moment and then dipped his brush into Gracie’s red paint. He slathered the paper and then rinsed the brush to try another color. Blue.

  “There you go.” Beth patted his shoulder. “Nice.”

  Corey looked at her again and smiled.

  “You got it, Corey. Now have fun with it.” Maybe he’d paint what was inside his heart.

  Beth made her rounds, helping other kids and doling out encouragement. But she made her way back to Corey, curious.

  “Wow!” She stared at his painting and smiled. “That’s beautiful.”

  Corey had made a sloppy rainbow that ran off the page, but it arched over a corner painted black. None of the white paper showed. He’d filled it all with color. Did it mean something good? Beth couldn’t help but think it did.

  “You can have it.”

  Beth hesitated in accepting. Teacher mode, Diane had said. Her kids made pictures for her all the time. She had a slew of them in her desk. But this one was special. Like the boy in front of her. “What about your dad? He might like it, too.”

  Corey shrugged and looked away.

  Beth regrouped. She didn’t want to hurt the boy’s feelings by refusing. Nick wouldn’t mind, would he? “Thank you, Corey. I know right where it’ll go.”

  His eyes brightened. “Really?”

  “Really. Would you like to make another one?”

  “Nope.” Corey gathered up his brushes and headed for the sink. “I’m done.”

  Beth checked her watch. Still another forty-five minutes to go. “Corey, would you like to help me? Be my go-for?”

  The boy looked thoughtful a moment. “What’s a gopher?”

  Beth smiled. “Go for things the other kids might need.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  “All right.”

  By the time Beth checked her watch again, it was time to pack up. Corey had been a good helper as they cleaned up spilled paint and passed out more paper.

  Every errand she sent the boy on within the room had turned into a game of timing. Could he shave his last errand time down in seconds without running? Corey had laughed and fast-walked his way through tables and chairs. When stumped, he’d ask Gracie where to find something. The kid was sharp.

  Parents filtered into the art room oohing and aahing over their kids’ projects. Beth looked at Corey’s. It wasn’t quite dry but should be by the time they left. She’d have it framed.

  Something told her this little step was huge. And her heart nearly burst with pride when she realized she’d been part of it.

  * * *

  Nick pulled into the Rykens’ driveway. After a long workweek, he looked forward to his upcoming days off. He’d settle into the house he’d bought, mow the lawn and maybe shop for homeowner gadgets to stock the garage. Plus, he’d have time to get reacquainted with his son.

  He rubbed his chin as the familiar feeling of panic shot through him quicker than a bullet. What kind of father was he to be afraid of his own son?

  He slipped out of his patrol car and shrugged off his stupid fears. He was a grown man and a cop used to facing some pretty mean customers; he could do this. He’d been reading with Corey every night without making a dent of improvement that he could see. His boy couldn’t read and Nick didn’t know how to teach him. He sure hoped Beth had solutions stuffed up her pretty sleeves.

  Charging the steps, Nick halted from stepping close enough to knock on the door. The windows were open to let in the unusually warm April evening breeze. He could hear Beth talking to Corey. He could see them at the dining room table. The soft glow of the overhead light made Beth’s blond hair shine. It looked silky and real. But then, it might come from a bottle for all he knew. His wife had colored her hair, but something about Beth made him think she didn’t. He watched as she raised a good-sized card. Corey made the sound of the vowel combination and Beth smiled and then moved on to the next card.

  That sunny smile of hers did things to him. He’d made the mistake of letting Susan get to him too fast, before he’d even had a chance to think. He’d never make that mistake again.

  He stepped closer and knocked.

  “Come in.” Beth’s voice.

  Nick stepped inside, nodded and looked at his son. “Hey, bud.”

  Corey looked up. “Hey.”

  “Well, that’s it for tonight. Good job, Corey.”

  “I’ll get my stuff.” Corey glanced at him as if trying to gauge how fast he should move.

  “We’ve got time.” Nick watched his boy relax and head for the kitchen. Nick slipped into a chair facing Beth. “So? What’s the verdict?”

  Beth pulled out a thin three-ring binder and slid it across the table toward him. “Here’s your lesson plan.”

  He flipped open the cover. “My what?”

  “Reading exercises to do with Corey. Have him tell you a short story, you write it down and then have him read it back. As he improves, lengthen the story. Stuff like that in addition to regular reading. I’ve got a checklist for you so t
hat you can keep track of what you’ve done. Nursery rhymes are a great tool, and remember, repetition is a good thing.”

  Nick ran a hand through his hair. She’d put a lot of work into this, but then, she was used to this stuff. He wasn’t. “Thanks, I think.”

  She smiled and his stomach flipped. “You’ll be okay.”

  Corey returned with his backpack, and Mary followed with two foil-covered plates.

  “Wow, dinner again?” Nick accepted the gifts with gratitude.

  “Yes, and some cookies.” Mary gave Corey’s shoulder a squeeze. “Did you show your dad the gift you made?”

  Corey’s eyes widened. “No.”

  Nick tipped his head. “What gift and for who?”

  “Miss Ryken.” Corey stared at his feet.

  Nick glanced at Beth.

  She set a big piece of thick paper on the dining room table. “Corey painted this at class tonight.”

  Nick took in the colors. It looked like every other kid’s painting he’d seen hanging in a classroom. So? “That’s great, bud.”

  Beth glared at him.

  What?

  Beth knelt so she was eye level with Corey. “I’ll get this framed and then when you come back we’ll pick out a place to hang it. Sound good?”

  His boy nodded.

  Nick felt as if he’d missed something here. It was just a painting. All kids painted, right? He tried to remember pictures from Corey hanging on their apartment walls and couldn’t.

  Susan hadn’t framed any of Corey’s colorings. Neither had he. They might have stuck a couple on the fridge of their old apartment, but other than that, not a big deal was made. Another should-have-but-didn’t.

  Mary patted Corey’s arm. “Have a good time with your dad. We’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Okay.” Corey looked wary.

  Nick rubbed his jaw. He had the next three days off.

  Tomorrow was Friday and then the weekend spanned before him with no real plans made. He’d have to come up with something they could do together. His fingers gripped the binder Beth had made. He’d need more than this to keep them busy. “Thanks, Mary, and thank you, Miss Ryken.”