Job. She glanced at the mantel clock and saw that it was already 8:00 a.m. Muttering beneath her breath about Colt Garrett and his unruly children, she shoved away from the door and headed for the bedroom to get ready. She only hoped that after the meeting with Homer, she had a job.
* * *
When Allison stepped through the mayor’s door, she saw that Colt was already seated in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Even without her glasses, there was no hiding the scowl on his attractive face. As she neared the empty chair beside him, she noticed that his cheeks still bore yesterday’s stubble, as if he, too, had been given short notice of the meeting and hadn’t had time to shave. Combined with the unyielding expression in his unusual tawny eyes, he looked a tad dangerous and 100 percent handsome male. Somehow, she was not in the least surprised that he was already angry, or at the very least irritated.
Her heart fluttered in a sudden burst of awareness that sent her heart racing beneath the wide flounce that made a V from her waistband up and over her shoulders.
Knowing it was futile to have any physical response to him, no matter how attractive he might be, and desperate to control her runaway emotions, she forced her gaze to Homer, smiled and murmured a polite “Good morning, gentlemen.”
The mayor and the sheriff muttered their replies almost in tandem.
“Have a seat, Miss Grainger,” Homer said, indicating the empty chair. “This shouldn’t take long.”
As Allison stepped between the two chairs, she drew her skirts aside to keep them from brushing against the sheriff’s long denim-clad legs. Unnerved by his nearness—indeed, by everything about him—and wondering what had happened to make him so surly since they’d talked the previous day, she dropped into the chair next to his with a decidedly ungraceful and unladylike plop.
Her cheeks burned with mortification. What was it about the man that caused her to lose her professional demeanor and behave with uncharacteristic gaucheness? Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she kept her gaze on the mayor.
“I was up half the night considering the situation,” Homer began, “and after consulting with the members of the town council, two of whom are on the school board, I think I have a clear picture of the situation.”
He turned toward Colt. “It’s a well-known fact that your children get out of hand on occasion. Would you agree with that?”
“I would.” Colt’s response was curt.
“And it’s a matter of record that Miss Grainger has had several meetings with you and the board, not only about their conduct at school, but about the need to supply Brady with extra tutoring at home.”
Colt shot a dark look at Allison from beneath golden-tipped eyebrows. “She has, yes.”
“And have you complied with her requests?”
“Not to the degree she would like, I suppose,” he admitted with a slight shrug of his wide shoulders. Only the whitening knuckles of his hands as they tightened on the arms of the chair said that he was not as indifferent as he appeared.
“Well, it’s obvious to everyone that the situation must change, if it is to ever be resolved,” the mayor declared.
“I realize that, sir, and I promise to try to do better, but what she asks is no easy task.”
“Parenting is never easy, son,” Homer said, his impatience clear. “You should know that by now. I expect you to do better. Brady will thank you for it in the long run.”
Dull red color crept up the sheriff’s cheeks. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Satisfied that Colt would do as he was told, Homer barreled ahead. “What do you plan to do about the property damage the children inflicted on Miss Grainger’s personal belongings?”
“I’ve spoken to the children and made arrangements to have the eyeglasses replaced, and I’ve also talked to Gabe about replacing Miss Grainger’s hat and gloves at my expense. He’s agreed to let the children work off the debt by helping out at the store every day.”
“Well done, Colt, well done! Your willingness to do the right thing somewhat restores my faith in my choice of you as our sheriff.”
Satisfied that Colt had been put into his proper place, Homer switched his attention to Allison. “And you, Miss Grainger. Everyone knows that I have always thought we were fortunate to hire you, and with your sister living here, it seemed a mutually beneficial arrangement. However, I was under the impression that you were made of sterner stuff. I never thought two misbehaving children would cause you to threaten to cut bait and run. It grieves me to tell you that I’m rethinking my initial response to your qualifications.”
It took a moment for Allison’s pleasure at his praise to catch up to the fact that he had condemned her actions with his next breath. It was one thing to announce she’d rather move on than teach the sheriff’s children another year, and quite another to be faced with termination.
Homer leaned forward and rested his arms on the gleaming desktop, his frowning gaze moving from her to Colt and back.
“I must say that I’m shocked by the way you two have handled things. The people of Wolf Creek will not be pleased with either of you when word gets around about your conduct. Both of you should be more mindful of your station in town and be the best examples you can be in all situations. And as for you, Miss Grainger, I must say that I am quite disappointed in your inability to preserve your temper and your composure. As the town’s educator, you’re held to a higher standard than a regular citizen.”
Allison swallowed her pride and decided to take full responsibility for the fiasco. “You’re certainly justified in your feelings, Mayor Talbot, and I know you’re right. Perhaps Sheriff Garrett would have been more amenable if I hadn’t let my anger get the best of me. I have no excuse except to say that the incident far surpassed the bounds of reasonable behavior, and I overreacted.”
Even as she said the words, she was dreading another year with Cilla and Brady—if she were lucky enough to be offered another year. “I do, however, think the sheriff should get to the bottom of whatever is causing their conduct, and he should also be more conscientious about keeping his promises.”
“On those things, Miss Grainger, we are agreed. So it seems to me that the solution to this whole debacle is very simple.”
“It is?” she said, somewhat in shock since she’d lain awake many a night the past year trying to come up with a way to solve the problem.
“I believe so, but it will require a high degree of cooperation between the two of you if there’s to be any significant change in the situation. Wouldn’t you both agree?”
“Of course,” Allie hastened to say while part of her mind was wondering just what “cooperation” Homer was talking about.
Colt nodded but his eyes held a wary expression.
“Well, then, here’s what’s going to happen. School takes up in little more than six weeks. If the two of you don’t have this worked out by the beginning of the school year, you’ll both be looking for jobs come September. Understood?”
Homer rose, and rounded the desk, heading for the coatrack near the door. “I’m due for a few rounds of checkers with Lew, Artie and Pete over at the store,” he said, reaching for his hat. “You two feel free to use the office as long as you like.”
“For what?” Colt asked, speaking up for the first time since Allison had begun her apology.
“Why, for working out the details of just what and how the two of you will work together to solve the issues with Brady and Cilla. Y’all have a good day now.”
* * *
Stunned at the sudden, unexpected dismissal, Colt watched the mayor leave the office. He felt as if he’d just taken a punch in the gut. He’d escaped being fired. Barely. Maybe. Of all the scenarios that had crossed his mind since Danny Gentry had knocked on his door to tell him the mayor wanted to see him at once, this particular conclusion had never entered h
is mind.
He loved his job. Loved the people of Wolf Creek. Moving the kids again would be hard on them, and Brady might never catch up if he kept moving from school to school. Children needed roots. Lifelong friends. They all did. Thank goodness they had another chance.
He glanced over at the schoolmarm, whose lips were still parted in shock. At least she had her hair pulled back in some sort of bun again, he thought with ill-tempered satisfaction. The no-nonsense style made it easier to think of her as his adversary instead of a real person he was forced to work with closely.
“I suppose you got a lot of pleasure telling Homer every word I said,” she snapped. “You probably ran to see him right after I left your office yesterday.”
“I wasn’t tattling.”
“No?” she said, her shock giving way to annoyance.
“No. I was just trying to tell him what happened during our...discussion to the best of my recollection.” Minus losing his own temper, of course. “I certainly never intended to put our jobs in jeopardy.”
“Hmpf!”
Though she sounded disgruntled, Miss Grainger was looking at him with an expression that hovered between dismay and apprehension. No doubt she was regretting a few of her actions, too. After all, she was not just any woman, he reminded himself crossly. She was Miss Grainger, the town’s shining example of virtue, deportment and intelligence. Cosseted and corseted with no idea what children were like since she’d never had any. Laced so tight and so caught up in her expectations for learning there was no room for womanly tenderness or sensitivity to his children’s needs in her tiny little heart.
“So what do you propose we do?”
Her prim voice grated on his already raw nerves. Did the woman ever loosen up?
“How should I know?” he said, getting to his feet and glaring down at her. “Aren’t you the one with all the answers?”
Her brown eyes narrowed in a way that was fast becoming familiar. “Please sit down, Sheriff,” she commanded. “After yesterday, you must have learned that I am not so easy to intimidate.”
Feeling as if he were a schoolboy who’d been scolded, he sat.
Miss Grainger frowned. “I’ll be the first to say that I don’t have all the answers. However, even though you may not like it, I feel that it is important that we continue working with Brady until we can figure out some way to help him. I’ll write some letters to my former professors. Perhaps there have been some new discoveries in the area of learning disabilities since I began teaching.”
“Disabilities!” Colt barked. “My son is not disabled in any way.”
“That’s not what I—”
“There’s nothing wrong with Brady,” he snarled. “Did you ever stop and think that maybe the reason he isn’t doing well is because you aren’t a good enough teacher?”
“Every day.”
The soft confession robbed him of his anger. It wasn’t the answer he’d expected. There was uncertainty and misery in her sherry-brown eyes, and maybe just a hint of dampness. He turned away from her, hoping she wouldn’t resort to tears, that handy-dandy feminine standby that women the world over used to manipulate the opposite sex.
After several long seconds, Colt calmed himself and searched his mind for something to say. Miss Grainger, too, appeared to gather her emotions. Her chest rose in a deep sigh and she seemed to shake off her melancholy, looking up at him with renewed determination. “I daresay if we both work hard at it, together we can help him.”
Colt doubted it, but it wouldn’t hurt to try to appease her, since she did seem upset by the whole affair. Besides, Homer had given them an ultimatum. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Thank you for Cilla and Brady’s apologies. I believe that was the right thing to do.”
“You’re welcome.”
Silence reigned in the small room until she said, “Have you tried to find out what’s at the root of their behavior?”
“In fact, I did,” he told her. “I was a little surprised at what they had to say.”
She raised her eyebrows in question.
“Brady told me he was tired of disappointing everyone all the time. He also said that it’s embarrassing when you make mention of him having the wrong answer in front of the class.”
Miss Grainger looked shocked. “It was never my intent to humiliate anyone. I just try to point out the error and offer to help them after class. I’ll try to figure out another way to...soften things.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” Colt said. He looked straight into her eyes. “And I promise I’ll work with him for thirty minutes or so every evening. I’m not sure I can do more than that. It’s frustrating and stressful for us both.”
A tight smile played at the corners of her mouth. “Believe me, Sheriff Garrett, I understand only too well, and I can assure you that my frustration equals, if not surpasses, yours.
“For my part I promise to investigate every new teaching technique available. There is always some educator coming up with new and different methods of instruction. Some are better than others, but it won’t hurt to try a few of them.” The sound of her stomach growling punctuated the statement. Her freckled face flushed deep red.
“Look, I was up half the night,” he told her, not offering any reason why. She’d never know he hadn’t slept for thinking of their argument and...her. Frowning, he scrubbed a palm over his bristly cheek. “When Danny came to get me, I didn’t even have time to shave much less have a cup of coffee. Would you mind if we continued this conversation at Ellie’s?”
An expression of pure panic flitted over her face.
“Please,” he coaxed. “Let me treat you to breakfast. I’ll be able to think much better once I have some coffee, and I think your stomach will agree that a plate of ham and eggs wouldn’t come amiss.”
He accompanied the request with a stiff smile. If possible, she looked even more flustered. He could see in her eyes that she was about to refuse.
“Look, Miss Grainger, I’m doing my best to make up for yesterday,” he said in his most persuasive tone. “How about meeting me halfway?”
After regarding him with a solemn expression for long moments, she rose. “Well, then, since you put it that way, I accept. We really must reach some agreement about the children.”
* * *
The instant she and the sheriff walked through the door of the café, all eyes turned their way. Allison heard the murmurs of conjecture sweep through the crowd. Grasping her elbow, he ushered her to a table and pulled out her chair, the epitome of a Southern gentleman.
Ellie approached carrying two mugs of steaming coffee. “Straight from the pot for Allison,” she said, setting the cup down in front of her and pressing a sisterly kiss to her cheek. “The usual, Colt?” Ellie asked.
“Yep. And thanks for bringing the coffee right over. I needed it.”
“I could tell,” Ellie said with a slight smile.
Allison watched wide-eyed as he added a generous amount of cream and two heaping spoonfuls of sugar. If she used cream and sugar in every cup of coffee or tea she drank, she would soon be waddling, but the sheriff’s lean, muscled body didn’t appear to have an extra ounce of fat anywhere.
“Allison? What for you?”
“Just a piece of toasted bread and an egg, please.”
“That’s it?” Colt asked.
“No sense arguing with her,” Ellie said. “It’s what she usually has.”
Allison felt decidedly uncomfortable at being the topic of conversation. Heaven knew—everyone knew—that she didn’t need a full breakfast.
His shoulders lifted in a shrug of disbelief. “Bring the lady some toast and an egg.”
“Got it,” Ellie said, and walked away, her slim hips swaying.
Colt sighed.
“She’s
lovely, isn’t she?” Allison’s tone was wistful.
“She is.”
His agreement brought a lump to her throat. Well, she had asked, and there was no denying the obvious. “And just as beautiful on the inside.”
It was the sheriff’s turn to look uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. He took a hearty swig of the steaming coffee without flinching.
“She deserves a good man.”
He scowled. “You’ve probably heard the scuttlebutt that it won’t be me.”
Allison had heard from Ellie that she’d told Colt they had no future since she had no idea if the husband who’d deserted her when Bethany was born was alive or dead. Besides, as nice a man as he was, she didn’t love him.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. She’s a sweet person and wonderful company, but I think we both always knew we were never going to be more than friends.”
The knot in Allison’s chest loosened.
“Back to the children,” she said, deciding that she should return the conversation to their mutual problem. “What did Cilla have to say about her behavior?”
Colt cleared his throat but met her curious gaze head-on. “It seems that as a father, I’ve fallen far short in the attention and support areas of their lives.”
“I’m not certain I understand.”
Colt placed his elbows on the table and leaned toward her. Allison listened as he explained what Cilla had told him about the reason she misbehaved.
When he finished, Allison said, “She misbehaves to get your attention?”
“So it seems. She says that even when I’m at home with them, my thoughts are far away.” He leaned back in his chair and lifted his coffee mug. “As bad as I hate to admit it, she’s right. It took me a long while to get past losing Patty. Maybe I still dwell on it too much sometimes.”
He met Allison’s troubled gaze. “When Patty was alive, she took care of most of the child rearing, and I made the living. When she died, it all fell to me. I didn’t know what to do besides feed and clothe them, and that’s more or less all I’ve been doing. It seemed to work okay when they were small, but now that they’re growing up, they need more.”
Wolf Creek Father (Wolf Creek, Arkansas Book 3) Page 5
