Always a Temp

by Jeannie Watt

  “I have work to do, and if you’re going to have that next article in on time, so do you.”

  “It’s done. I e-mailed it. Didn’t you get it?”

  “Uh, no.” He didn’t want her to know he’d taken off a couple hours early, planning to make up the time tonight, in order to fix the bike once the parts came in. “I’ve been busy.”

  She studied his face for a moment, as if trying to figure out what he was thinking. Her eyes shifted to the house behind him as a car with a worn muffler pulled up in front.

  “Are you familiar with the Hobart family?” she asked. Nathan glanced over his shoulder to see a tall man in a cowboy shirt and jeans get out of the car.

  “They’re from up north,” he said, turning back to her. “They have a bit of a rep.”

  “A Hobart family lives in the house across the lot there. The kids come into my backyard sometimes.”

  “Casing the joint?”

  “I hope not. They’re nine and eight.”

  Nathan nodded politely, wondering why he was getting a neighborhood update.

  “I don’t think their parents take very good care of them.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I see them out at night a lot. And the house is dark. I’ve been wondering if anyone is even home at night with them.”

  “You’ve been watching them that closely?”

  “I noticed the little boy at the fire where I saw you and Garrett. His sister was dragging him home from it, so yeah, I’ve noticed.”

  “Did you talk to the parents?”

  “No one answered the door that night.”

  “You’re sure the kids were in there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you have no way of knowing whether or not there was an adult.”

  “Alice said there’s a grandma, but I’ve never seen her.”

  “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t exist.”

  Callie was still staring at the house, a tiny frown drawing her eyebrows together. “I guess.”

  “Callie?” She glanced back at him, her eyes distant. He recalled some of her crusades in junior high and high school. Once she bit into a cause, she refused to let go. “The Hobarts are not people to mess with.”

  “Damn, Nate. Are you saying I should ignore what’s going on?”

  “No. I’ll be the first in line to turn someone in for child abuse. I’m saying be sure of your facts. Are the kids overly skinny? Do they have marks on them? Wear raggedy clothes?”

  “There are other forms of abuse. Like, say, neglect.”

  The man who’d gone in the house came out again, with the two kids bounding around him, healthy and energetic. Nathan turned a serious gaze back on Callie, wondering what she saw.

  “On a one-to-ten scale, how sure are you that the kids are being neglected? By sure, I mean hard evidence.”

  Callie pressed her lips together momentarily. “Four,” she said grudgingly. “Going by hard evidence.”

  “Be careful here, Cal.”

  “Thanks for tuning up the bike for me. I’m looking forward to riding.” It was pretty obvious that she wouldn’t have minded having someone to ride with. Nate didn’t make the offer, because part of him really wanted to and he didn’t totally trust that part of himself.

  When Callie was like this, when he was able to push past issues aside, then he could see being friends again—or rather, he could if they hadn’t once moved beyond friendship. He still felt the sexual attraction to her. Strongly. Had she just come back right after dumping him, yeah, maybe he would have swallowed his pride and tossed his hat back in the ring. Enjoyed the moment. But now when he thought of being her lover, trust issues reared their ugly heads. Logically, he could tell himself that his leg didn’t matter. But honestly? It mattered to him. His head was messed up about it. He was ashamed of something out of his control, and he couldn’t help feeling that way.

  Callie seemed distant as he left, quite possibly because he’d done his best to make her that way. He didn’t want to go to dinner with her and he didn’t buy her theory that the kids next door were neglected. He’d seen them playing in the lot and they looked like healthy, happy kids.

  He had to admit, though, that it bothered him to see Callie distressed, since it didn’t fit with his idea of a selfish Callie. Selfish Callie made it easy to stand back, keep his distance. He didn’t particularly want that to change.

  When he got home, just in case she was onto something, Nathan called Garrett and asked him what he knew about the Hobart family. His answer was exactly what Nathan had expected. They kept to themselves, and if no one bothered them, they didn’t bother anybody.

  “Callie’s concerned about the kids.” Nathan opened a cupboard. He hadn’t shopped lately and didn’t have much selection. Instant macaroni and cheese, or soup.

  “How so?”

  “She says they spend a lot of time unsupervised.” He pulled out a can of soup, then put it back. He didn’t want to go out and eat alone. Maybe he should have gone to dinner with Callie.

  “So did we.”

  “She seems to think these parents are leaving them alone while they work at night.”

  “Evidence?”

  “That’s the sticking point. I think it’s all just gut feeling, but if these kids are being left to their own devices…” Nathan pulled a Chinese dinner out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave.

  “Remember when she talked you into trying to set the pound dogs free when you were eleven?”

  “These are kids, Garrett.”

  “I’ll ask around unofficially, see if anyone’s heard anything. I’ll check with the school, too. Talk to their teacher.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So…spending much time with Callie?”

  “I fixed her bike.”

  “Don’t get suckered in again, Nathan.”

  “Your faith in my common sense is overwhelming.” He punched the microwave buttons with unnecessary force.

  “I know the power of the double X chromosome.”

  “Shove it.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN CALLIE GOT HER CALL from Mrs. Serrano, asking her to sub for Dane Gerard while he was away for a basketball game, she made it a point to get to the school early enough to stop by Denise’s office and say hello.

  “I loved the article,” Denise said the moment she saw Callie standing in the doorway of her tiny office. “You did such a good job of getting across the difficulties of my situation without making anyone look bad or me look like a whiner. Very matter-of-fact. I loved it.”

  “Great,” Callie said. Heaven knew she’d written a few articles in her time that weren’t so appreciated. And Denise’s warmth and sincerity were a nice change from the reception she’d received from many people in town. Although she had to admit that people seemed to be forgetting about her now. She’d bumped into one of Grace’s club friends and actually got a cool hello.

  “By the way, who are you today?”

  “Mr. Gerard. Algebra and calculus. I sure hope he left some word search puzzles….”

  Denise laughed. “I doubt you’ll have to teach calculus. So you’re doing all right with the subbing?”

  “Right now I have the utmost respect for people who do this for a living.” Callie adjusted her leather backpack on her shoulder. “I’d better be going so I can gear up for the day. I just wanted to say hi.”

  She’d started toward the door when a thought struck her and she turned back. Denise cocked her head curiously. “Do you notice much about the gawkers when you fight fires?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Have you ever noticed some young, very blond kids there? Around eight or nine years old?”

  “You know, I have. I figured their parents must be serious fire groupies to bring the entire family, but I don’t know who they are.”

  Callie felt a surge of anger. “Thanks.”

  “Hey,” Denise called after Callie had left the office. She reversed course and s
tuck her head in the door. “Would you like to come out with the staff to The Supper Club Friday after school for decompression?”

  “Isn’t that for real teachers?”

  “It’s for anyone who survives a day with kids.”

  Callie laughed. “I’ll probably try to make it.”

  “No probably. Plan on it. The more teachers get to know you, the more jobs you’ll get.”

  After that day, however, Callie wasn’t sure how many more jobs she wanted to get at the high school. Algebra went fine. The sophomores and freshmen were familiar with her, and she’d identified the players.

  Calculus, on the other hand, was her first ever upper-classman group. For the most part it was quieter, the kids more on task as they worked on problems Dane had left. But Mitch Michaels was in the class, and he obviously recalled her as the woman with the bike who he’d tried to pick up. He kept making eye contact and smiling in a not-so-innocent way.

  At first Callie ignored him, thinking maybe he’d get the hint, but by the end of class she’d had enough. When the bell rang, dismissing school, Mitch left with the rest of the kids, but five minutes later he came sauntering back in.

  “Hello, Mitch,” Callie said pleasantly, even though she was speaking through her teeth.

  “Miss McCarran.” He perched his butt on one of the desks, an indication he was in no hurry to leave.

  “Do you need something?” She cringed inwardly as the words left her mouth, and for a moment she thought he was going to tell her exactly what he needed. The kid exuded confidence, but it was an unsettling kind of confidence. The kind with sexual overtones that stood the hairs up on the back of her neck.

  “No. I just thought I’d drop by and talk. I know subs don’t have a lot to do between three and three-thirty.”

  “Oh, I’m fine all by myself.”

  Mitch shifted his gaze to the floor for a moment, a slight smile playing on his lips. Then he looked up with a suggestively arched eyebrow. “I’m graduating at semester.”

  “Then what?”

  “School in California. Cal Poly.”

  “What are you majoring in?” And what do I have to do to make you go away? She was getting an uncomfortable vibe.

  His leg swung back and forth casually. Callie recognized the brand on his shoe. A pair of those would set her back a couple sub checks. “Premed probably.”

  “How nice.” Callie folded her hands in front of her and stared at him.

  “I guess what I’m getting at is that I am eighteen. Legal.”

  Callie raised her brows in mock confusion and waited. He shifted slightly, but it wasn’t out of discomfort. The boy was too comfortable.

  “I know your father,” Callie finally said. “We played golf together.” Kind of. But she was sticking with the half-truth, because what kind of kid hit on someone who’d played golf with his dad?

  This kind of kid. One corner of his handsome mouth curved up. “I play golf, too.”

  “You’d better leave, Mitch.”

  He didn’t argue. Instead, he acted as if that was part of the game. Maybe it would be part of the game if they were living in a 1960s Sandra Dee movie. They weren’t, so Callie continued to apply her stony stare until he left the room. When the door clicked shut behind him, she exhaled. No wonder Denise had been so creeped out by Mitch’s younger brother, if she’d already had to put up with this.

  Callie finished her note and dropped the keys off at the office, glad the day was over and she was done with students. But she wasn’t. Mitch was sitting in his shiny blue sports car, parked a few spaces away from the Neon. The driver’s side window was open and he smiled at her when she walked past.

  If he followed her out of the lot, she was driving straight to the sheriff’s office…but he didn’t. Callie watched her mirror the entire way home.

  Okay, he hadn’t done anything except sit in his car, but he’d sure gotten the message across. He wanted to play.

  Fat chance.

  When Callie pulled onto her street, glad to be far away from Mitch Michaels, the first thing she noticed was the car parked under the carport of the Hobart house. It would have been hard not to notice it, since it was a hot pink Mustang. The paint was chipped, the bumper dented, but at one time it had probably been a sweet ride.

  Later that night there were lights on in the Hobart house. It wasn’t exactly lit up like a Christmas tree, but the ground floor had lights on in two rooms. That was promising.

  She hoped.

  SETH BOUNCED HIS helmet off his thigh as he waited for Nathan to finish the last-minute adjustments to his bike. Nate’s Saturday morning ride with his younger brother inevitably became a race, and he needed every advantage.

  His injured leg had recovered more than the doctors had hoped, but the nerve and muscle damage were extensive enough that his left leg still had to do more work when he rode. As a result, Seth almost always beat him when they raced around the loop by the river, and being a total brotherly jerk, he also crowed about it. That more than anything endeared his younger brother to Nathan. No sympathy from the kid. Nathan was as uncomfortable with sympathy as he was with his injury.

  “Come on,” Seth said. “I have a shift later and I want to eat before I go.”

  Nate popped the wrench back into his tool kit and put the bike back on its wheels. Together they walked to the road and mounted, clicking their shoes into place.

  “I have to go back to the office myself.”

  “You work too many hours.”

  “Look who’s talking. One paying job and two volunteer.”

  “Yes, but I use my jobs to meet women. Can you say the same?”

  No, he couldn’t.

  “You know,” Seth mused, “since you’re falling down on the job, maybe I’ll find you a woman.”

  “Yeah, why don’t you do that,” Nathan said as he put his head down and started to seriously pedal, leaving his brother behind.

  “Blonde, brunette or redhead?” Seth called as he caught up and then sailed past.

  “Surprise me!” Nathan yelled after him. He heard Seth give a bark of laughter and began to think that perhaps he’d just made a major error. “No blind dates!” he shouted into the wind.

  “Too late,” Seth called back. “I’m setting something up and if you back out, you’ll hurt her feelings.”

  “Don’t…”

  Seth slowed until the two bikes were side by side. “Trust me, Nate. It’s for your own good. Time for you to get back on the horse.”

  “No.” It had taken almost a year for Nathan to finally accept the twisted and scarred flesh on his leg as part of him, but he still wasn’t wild to share. His leg was ugly, and that was a generous assessment, but it worked and Nathan was alive. For that he’d be ever grateful. But he wasn’t ready to put himself out there for anyone.

  Head down, Seth started pedaling, acting as if he didn’t hear him. Nathan poured everything he had into the pedals and finally pulled ahead of the kid as they reached the city limits. They both slowed, Nate sitting up and drinking from his water bottle, squeezing the rest over the back of his neck and chest.

  He didn’t mention blind dates as he and Seth rode side by side down the nearly deserted street leading to his house. He wasn’t going on a blind date; he’d made that clear. And he didn’t want to draw any more lines in the sand, because Seth was a guy who dearly loved to cross lines.

  CALLIE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT to make of the situation with the kids next door. During the four days the pink Mustang had been there, the lights and TV went on and off during the appropriate hours. But this morning the car was gone and the house was once again dark in the evening. But the kids were there, playing outside until the sun went down.

  Was that nine-year-old girl babysitting her brother all night while the mother worked an evening shift at the casino?

  So what should Callie do? When did none-of-her-business shift into her moral duty? She was seriously considering calling Child Protective Services, but maybe there
were circumstances she wasn’t aware of. Maybe the kids went to a neighbor’s house evenings. That would explain the dark house and also let Callie believe these children were being cared for. She needed to believe that.

  Callie hadn’t been able to find someone to mow her lawn, so in a fit of desperation, she dragged Lawn-Boy out and fought a few rounds with him, losing on a TKO when she pulled the starter cord for the umpteenth time and the handle broke into two pieces, sending her flying back onto her butt with a piece of plastic clutched in her hand. The other part of the handle was still attached to the rope, preventing it from disappearing inside the engine, and Callie decided to admit defeat before she ended up paying to fix something else.

  But if she was going to sell this house, she had to mow the lawn. Alice was no help, with her xeriscape gravel, rock and succulent landscaping. Callie was going to have to suck it up and go ask the neighbors for recommendations. What happened to kids who put flyers up at the grocery store? Were they all home playing video games and surfing the Web?

  And then to add to the joy that was her life, Mitch Michaels had actually called her landline and asked her on a date that morning, pointing out that when she wasn’t working, it wouldn’t be a conflict of interest. After turning him down flat and suggesting he never call again, she wondered whether he’d asked her on a dare from a friend, to make fun of her, or whether he really wanted a date.

  Didn’t matter. If he kept bugging her, she was going to call either his dad or the cops. He was eighteen…maybe Garrett could scare some sense into him. Yeah, Garrett, who liked her so much.

  Or maybe Mitch had actually gotten the message and was just saving face.

  And maybe it was time to leave, to head back to San Francisco. She could drop the Neon off on the way, before it cost her more money. There’d be no Mitch Michaels, no worries about the kids next door, no battles with Lawn-Boy.

  No more unsettling attraction to Nathan, who wanted nothing to do with her.

  Tempting. Callie leaned her palms on the edge of the sink and looked out the window at the overgrown lawn. Very tempting. But she wasn’t going to let a bunch of grass, a cranky hunk of machinery, a horny kid and her ex-boyfriend drive her away before she was damned ready to go.