by Kim Law
Jenna’s bottom lip trembled as silent tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, but the second Gabe stooped in front of her, she swiped at them and took a step back.
“Fine,” she muttered. Her bottom lip protruded. “I’ll go in. But I want to come to your room when school is over.” Fear suddenly filled her gaze. “Can I do that, Daddy? Can Hannah bring me to your room?”
Hannah was the college student Gabe had hired to be his daughter’s after-school babysitter. “Absolutely. But you know you won’t be able to stay. I have football practice after school.”
An unfortunate turn of events for the school district had left the high school without a coach only three weeks before, and deciding to call upon yet another favor, Gabe had presented the option of giving him a chance. Being coach to teen boys would provide more opportunity to become the mentor he wanted to be. And, after all, it wasn’t as if he didn’t know the system. He’d spent years volunteering with the high school’s football program before moving out of the state.
The powers that be hadn’t been sold on the idea at first, but when no viable candidates had surfaced, they’d been left with little choice. They’d offered him a one-year contract. With no guarantee of renewal.
“You know Pops and I would be glad to take care of her,” Gloria told him softly. “She could come to our house in the afternoons if she wanted to.”
“I don’t want to!” Jenna shouted, all emotions now directed solely at Gloria.
Gloria’s mouth snapped shut, and Gabe stared at his daughter. “Enough.” He said the word calmly. “You need to apologize for yelling, and then you need to calm down.” He looked at Gloria. “And I know you would. Thank you. But we’re good. Jenna and I can do this.”
Being on his own had been one of his personal requirements when he’d moved back to town. The home he’d grown up in had plenty of spare rooms, and staying with his dad and Gloria would definitely have made things like child care easier. But he’d found himself unable to stomach the idea. He needed to do this by himself.
“Jenna,” he said, adding a warning to his tone since she had yet to apologize.
More tears squeezed out. “I’m sorry!” she wailed. And suddenly she was in Gloria’s arms, and the woman was soothing her in a way Gabe knew he had yet to figure out.
He’d tried. He’d been trying for years. But there seemed to be something about a woman’s touch that meant more to little girls than a dad’s.
Uncomfortable, Gabe stood and took the steps needed to put him at the door, and the second Jenna had herself back under control he cleared his throat. Both ladies looked over at him.
“We have to go in, kiddo. Ms. Bird is waiting. And I’ve got to go meet my students, too.” He wasn’t officially late to class yet, due to the first hour at the high school being his free period. “Can you tell Gloria good-bye and walk me to your room?”
Jenna sniffed. “I don’t know where it is.” She remained in Gloria’s arms.
“Then maybe you and I can find it together. What do you say?”
After a long beat, she finally nodded. Then she turned to Gloria. “Thank you for bringing me to school, Gramma,” she whispered. She and Haley had taken to calling Gloria “Gramma” lately. “I’m a big girl now,” Jenna continued. “I won’t cry anymore.”
Gloria winked at his daughter and gave her a final peck on the cheek. “You’re always a big girl, sweetheart. And even big girls get scared sometimes.”
She set Jenna on her feet, and Gabe watched both of them as they each sucked in a steadying breath, wiped at their eyes—he hadn’t even realized Gloria had teared up—then straightened their shoulders.
And then Jenna repositioned her little purse in her right hand and lifted her left to his. “Let’s do this, Daddy. We’ll be okay.”
Only twenty-five minutes into the morning, and Erica Bird had asked herself three times if she’d made the right decision in moving to Birch Bay. She’d never been an impulsive kind of girl, yet she’d quit her tenured job without a moment’s hesitation only one week before, and until this morning she hadn’t once looked back. But as she stood in front of a classroom full of anxious, excited, and some bored little faces, she thought about the unconventional apartment she’d rented in town—sight unseen—about the job she’d loved and that she’d never again have back, and about how the last few nights had been the first time in her life that she’d ever truly lived on her own. Thirty-three years old, and she was finally fully independent. And she already wanted to run back home.
Truth be told, she hadn’t wanted to leave any of it. Not two days ago nor nearly two years before. But control of her life had been abruptly stripped from her on that late-fall day two years ago, and up until last week she’d honestly thought she’d gotten it all back under control. Only, she’d been kidding herself. She was gullible—she was a sucker—and she’d been on the verge of becoming someone she never wanted to be.
Her ex was her ex for a reason. She had to remember that. And she would not let him be in her life anymore.
She eyed the drawer where her cell phone rested. No matter how many times he texted.
A noise at the door had twenty small heads turning along with hers. No one uttered a sound as the door inched open, and as Erica rose to greet the newcomer, she glanced at the roster lying on her desk. Nerves teased at the nape of her neck. She’d been told one particular student might be late this morning, and though she was unsure of the reason for the tardiness, she did have a pretty good idea of whom that child might belong to.
She smiled at the little girl who stepped around the door in a lemon-yellow sundress, and one glance at her eyes confirmed that if this wasn’t Gabe Wilde’s daughter, then it had to be a family member. Erica had met his entire family while in college, and each and every one of them shared the same blue eyes now peering back at her.
She lifted her gaze to find Gabe standing behind the girl, and the shocked look on his face confirmed another suspicion. He hadn’t known who she was.
“Erica?” he blurted out.
“It’s Ms. Bird,” she replied, mindful of the watching children. “And it’s good to see you, Gabe.”
“Good to see you, too,” he muttered absentmindedly as he continued to stare at her. “But what are you doing here?”
She couldn’t help the chuckle. “I live in Birch Bay now.” She could’ve said more—she knew he was asking for more—but now was neither the time nor the place. The facts were simple. She lived there now. At least for the next two months.
And after that? She gulped. Who knew where she’d end up next.
She glanced behind Gabe, expecting to find Jenna’s mother, but was surprised to see that he’d come alone. And since neither he nor Jenna had yet to step more than one foot inside the door, she went to them.
When she reached their side, she ignored the man and gave Jenna her best teacher smile. Now wasn’t the time for catching up. “Welcome to the class, Jenna.” When the little girl continued to study her without uttering a word, Erica tilted her head and did the same. There was a mixture of nervousness, petulance, and sheer terror in the child’s eyes. The combination pulled at Erica’s heartstrings. “We saved you a seat over by the window. I hope that’s o—”
Erica stopped talking when Jenna shot to the opposite side of the room. Another girl had given her a finger wave, and that was all Jenna had needed.
“Jenna,” Gabe spoke up. “Mrs. Bird said your seat was by the window. You can see Haley la—”
“I want to sit here,” Jenna announced. Her chin quivered with the words.
“But there’s no empty seat there.”
Erica touched a hand to Gabe’s forearm, hoping to forestall the outburst she could see building in the second grader. “She’ll be fine,” she said under her breath. “And it’s Ms. Bird.” At his glance, she added, “Not Mrs.”
Before either of them could say more, the entire class sprang to life. Everyone began to either talk or move in their seats,
which only seemed to up Jenna’s stubbornness, and from Erica’s viewpoint at the front of the class, she caught the lift of the child’s chin as well as her unsure step back. She positioned herself slightly behind Haley’s chair. Haley had taken hold of Jenna’s hand when she’d reached her side, and Jenna now gripped it like a lifeline.
Erica turned to Gabe. “We’ll be fine,” she repeated, this time more strongly. “I’ll take good care of her.” When Gabe finally pulled his gaze from his daughter, Erica nodded toward the door. “You’ll see her after school?” she prompted.
His eyes, so similar to Jenna’s, narrowed the slightest bit, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned back to his daughter. “I’ll see you in my classroom this afternoon, Jenna. Be good.”
Jenna didn’t acknowledge her father’s words, but Erica’s eyes widened at them. In his classroom? Since when had the man become a teacher? And did that mean that he no longer managed his family’s cherry orchard?
No. She answered her own question. He’d never give that up. He had to be doing both. Because that had been the one thing she’d known for certain about Gabriel Wilde back when they’d dated. He would never move away from Birch Bay. Never not take care of the family farm first. Hadn’t that been the crux of why they’d begun to fall apart? He would return to Birch Bay after graduation, and she’d always seen herself going home.
To her high school sweetheart, as it turned out.
Gabe was watching her again, as if to plumb the thoughts running through her head. But he was out of luck. She’d mastered masking all emotions years before. It had been key to becoming an excellent elementary school teacher. Never show fear. Never let the kids think they have the upper hand.
As it turned out, her skills had transferred to her personal life, as well. How would she have coped the last two years if they hadn’t?
Anger flared as she realized she’d let her mind go to her ex yet again, and Gabe’s brows lifted as if in question. The move had Erica wondering if she’d let something show, but before she could give it further thought, the noise level behind her rose even higher. Gabe backed out of the room, and with a tiny finger salute, he was gone. And Erica was left standing in front of a room of now-rowdy kids, one of whom Erica could see would not be sitting anywhere but beside her friend.
Erica didn’t like to give in to children who simply wanted to get their way. That didn’t foster respect between teacher and child, and she maintained that mutual respect had been key in the two statewide teacher-of-the-year awards she’d earned. But in this instance, she got the distinct impression that Jenna wasn’t merely trying to get her way. She needed to sit with her friend. At least for now.
Erica glanced at the seating chart she’d made as she’d taken roll. “Nikki or Brody”—she said to the two children sitting on either side of Haley—“would one of you like to sit in Jenna’s seat for now? Whoever offers can be the first one to lead us to the lunchroom today, and can do it for the rest of the week.”
Both kids immediately raised their hands. “I’ll do it,” they shouted in unison.
“Thank you.” Erica nodded and gave both a bright smile. “What great helpers you two are.” She looked at the girl. “How about if we let Nikki take Jenna’s seat this week, and she can lead the line to the lunchroom for us, and then Brody can sit by the window next week, and then he can lead the line?”
And maybe by then Jenna will be ready to sit in her own seat.
“Yes, Ms. Bird,” Nikki replied. Brody looked slightly crestfallen but didn’t express his disappointment audibly, while Nikki hurried to gather her notebook and pencils.
As the girl made her way across the room, the idea trickled through Erica’s mind that with this position being so temporary, she could just “let it go” this one time. Let Jenna—or heck, let everyone—sit wherever they wanted. Why not?
The thought was immediately replaced by irritation. She might be a failure in her personal life, but she’d never given less than her all in her career, and she wouldn’t start now.
No matter how frustrated she was with the fact that something completely out of her control had cost her her home and job, there would be no giving up on her part. Not on teaching these children, and certainly not on a seven-year-old whose entire demeanor pulled at Erica’s attention.
When Nikki settled into her new seat, Erica thanked her before turning back to the now-empty chair. “Jenna, please have a seat, and we’ll continue class.”
Jenna didn’t budge.
Instead, her gaze locked on Erica’s, and the two began a centuries-old battle of wills between teacher and student. A battle that usually didn’t rear its head so fervently at such a young age, but one that Erica was not unaccustomed to. She was the oldest with three much younger siblings. She’d faced belligerence her entire life.
“Jenna,” Erica began again, being sure to keep her voice calm and understanding. “You may sit beside Haley this week and next. Until the end of next Friday afternoon. That’s nine days. Then I’ll ask you again to take the seat you’ve been assigned. Doesn’t that seem like a fair compromise?”
Jenna’s chin wobbled, and her eyes darted to the window seat. Her throat moved with a small gulp as she looked back at Haley, and Erica caught a slight nod of encouragement coming from Jenna’s friend.
Finally, and without looking at Erica, Jenna sat. Erica breathed a small sigh of relief.
But her relief was short-lived when Jenna hunched her shoulders and tucked her feet up under her chair. Erica felt that she got a peek inside the little girl in that span of a few seconds. This wasn’t a child wanting her way; this was a child who’d lost her way.
Chapter Two
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what—”
The bell sounded, cutting Gabe off midsentence, and his gaze darted to the wall clock. The day was over already? Chairs screeched as they were pushed away from desks, and he took a step backward, making room for the students to file out.
“See you tomorrow, Mr. Wilde.”
“Catch you outside, Coach.”
Additional comments were tossed his way as the group of mostly freshmen filed past, and as the room emptied, pleasure filled Gabe’s chest. He’d done well for his first day on his own. His five classes contained a mix of upper- and lowerclassmen, with subjects ranging from intermediate through the advanced sciences. The course load would make for a tough year, but he was up for it.
The door closed behind the last student, insulating Gabe from the clamor of the hallway. He could hear footsteps and chatter just outside the door, even hoots and laughter coming from farther down the hall. But inside his classroom, silence prevailed. Though only for a moment.
The door opened, and two seniors from the football team strolled in. “Hey, Coach. How was your first day?”
Gabe appreciated the question. The team had been practicing together for a week now, and several of the guys had picked up on Gabe’s abundance of excitement for his new career. They’d teased him about it for days.
“Couldn’t have been better,” he answered. “How were yours?”
A broad grin split the ginger-haired boy’s face. The look could be one of only two things coming from Chase. Something involving a girl or . . .
“I heard from Boise State.”
Or football. Gabe’s heart thudded for the kid. “Good news?”
Chase was a running back, six two, and as strong as an ox. And he was good. He’d moved to Montana from a little-known town in the middle of Oklahoma last spring when his parents had divorced and had already shown himself to be one of the best on the team. “They’re watching me, Coach,” Chase said now. “They’re coming to a game.”
“Dude!” Caleb, the other student who’d come in, thumped Chase on the back. “You didn’t tell me that.”
Chase’s grin grew even wider. “I was saving it for Coach. He put in the word for me.”
“I doubt my word did anything.” Especially considering this was his first year of coachi
ng. Yet, the speed with which Chase had heard from the school was impressive. “Your video spoke for itself,” he told the boy. “As well as your talent.”
“Well, I’m giving you credit. I wouldn’t have sent in the video without your help.”
“I only held the camera.” They’d stayed late a couple of days the week before, pulling in a handful of underclassmen to help with the drills to highlight the senior’s moves. “They say which game they’re coming to?”
Chase’s chest expanded with a deep pull of air. “All I was told is ‘soon.’”
Their first game was Friday night. “Then we’d better make every minute of practice count.”
The door opened, and several more players poured in, no one seeming in a hurry to dress for practice. They draped themselves over anything and everything other than an actual chair, and began talking as if Gabe weren’t in the room. After Chase filled them in on his news, another mentioned the full-ride last year’s quarterback had gotten at Boise, as well as a couple of other seniors up in Kalispell who’d already signed with other colleges. Football was big in Montana.
Long fingers of nerves crept slowly around Gabe’s windpipe as he listened, the true stakes of his job crystallizing in a way they hadn’t before. His ability to be an effective coach was so much bigger than whether he’d be able to maintain his own position in the coming years. He had to get his contract renewed, and he had to get that scholarship for Chase.
He had to take the team to state.
He moved through the room as the boys continued talking, tidying up for the following day and trying not to let the pressure of the task he’d been given weigh down on him. He’d secured the teaching position at the beginning of summer, as soon as he’d finished his student teaching in California. And honestly, a teaching position and coming back home was all he’d been looking for. But when the previous coach had been unexpectedly fired for taking college bribes, a flame had begun to burn in Gabe’s belly. Though his volunteering with the team before had started more as a means of escaping a bad situation at home, he’d quickly grown to love it, and he’d missed it since giving it up.
