by Lois Richer
Seven hours...
He’d posted his video to go live at midnight. That was fourteen hours ago. That meant he was on his way to work when this one hit the internet. Vangie and Nathan were catching the school bus at his mother’s house at that time. He took a breath. A really deep one. And then he spoke. “You accessed Grandma’s laptop?”
Vangie made a little face of acknowledgment. “Her phone, actually.”
His heart began to race because he knew that all-too-innocent look she was giving him. It was the same wide-eyed expression he’d used to wrangle himself out of a great many things over the years. “Evangeline Mary Moyer, what on earth have you done?”
“Daddy.” She spoke with an ever-patient, exasperating, yet still adorable, air. “I’m going to find you a wife.”
* * *
Tug Moyer looked shocked.
No, make that dumbfounded, which annoyed Christa Alero even more. First he trained a child on how to make videos, then had the nerve to be surprised when she did it.
What a dolt. No matter how amazingly good-looking the guy was, with his shock of brown hair, ruddy-brown eyes and a heart-stopping, to-die-for grin, he was foolish to take such liberties with children. He was a cop. More than anyone, he should know how easy it would be for the wrong kind of person to see Evangeline’s plea, be taken with the child and then do something stupid or dangerous. Wasn’t the world already perilous enough for children?
She should know. She’d grown up in the thick of it.
She choked the negativity down. She’d dealt with her past years before. She might not be able to change what had happened, but she could smooth the road she’d chosen. She’d become a teacher to influence the future and that meant everything.
“My office. Now.” The principal didn’t mince words. She stepped back and waved one hand. “After you.”
Deputy Moyer and his really cute daughter went on ahead.
Christa fell in step with the principal. Halfway down the hall, she glanced to her left.
A tiny smile softened the principal’s features, as if she thought either the incident or the pair in front of them were amusing. Or worse, endearing. Clearly she liked the guy.
I’m going to find you a wife.
Evangeline’s words and her winning smile weren’t lost on Christa. Appealing, yes. But dangerous when paired with the social-media frenzy.
Christa took a seat on the far left, facing the principal. The deputy took the seat in the middle. Evangeline sat to his right.
Was he protecting the girl by opting for the middle seat? Or was he trying to intimidate Christa?
Or he could just be sitting... Like a normal person.
The mental scolding was right. Being raised in a gang-infested California city where too many cops looked the other way tended to ignite her suspicions. She took a breath and quietly folded her hands in her lap. The principal would handle this. That took the onus off Christa and helped ensure an ongoing good relationship with the child.
Mrs. Menendez took her seat. “Tug, you know this is serious.”
Tug?
Christa bit back words of recrimination because calling the guy by a nickname leveled the playing field too quickly. He should have to suffer more, shouldn’t he?
“It is gravely serious,” he replied. He aimed a ridiculously handsome look at his daughter and she wriggled under the scrutiny. “Vangie, you know better than this. It’s dangerous for kids to be on the internet. You took a big chance that bad people might see you or your brother. Most people are going to think your post is cute. That’s why it’s been shared...” He swept a look at his phone. His eyes went wide and it was impossible to miss the gorgeous tones of cinnamon brown. “Nearly three million times now.”
“We have local TV stations and national news networks calling for interviews,” the principal told him. “I’m sure you’ll find similar circumstances at home.”
“National news?” His voice cracked. Just a little. She hadn’t thought his gorgeous eyes could go wider. Wrong.
Mrs. Menendez pressed her lips together and nodded.
“I thought just some nice people around here would see it,” Vangie piped up. “You never get a chance to go out with ladies, Dad. You’re always helping other people or saving lives, and how are you ever going to find a wife if you never look? Especially if you get to be the new sheriff. So I thought this would help.”
Christa almost choked.
The child was delightfully smart and utterly sincere.
“Vangie, I know you meant well, but this isn’t how it’s done, honey.”
Evangeline almost bounced in her seat as she argued her point. “It is, Dad! Maybe that’s the problem because it’s exactly how they do it now. There are so many people on social media and they love stories like this. I heard Grandma and Nurse Mortie talking about it. She said people absolutely eat this stuff up.”
The principal choked back a laugh and even Christa had to fight a smile because the girl’s sincerity was spot-on.
“Eavesdropping on grown-up conversations, then taking that information and deliberately disobeying our rules isn’t something I take lightly, Evangeline.” He was firm. Strong. Direct. And the uniform added an extra measure of power to drive his points home.
The girl gulped.
The deputy turned and made eye contact with the adults. “Ms. Alero and Mrs. Menendez, I apologize for today’s disruption. With the soaring numbers of this post, I can’t promise it won’t stay a nuisance for a while. If you’d like me to keep Evangeline home, I can do that. She can stay with my mother while I work.”
“And miss school?” Evangeline’s eyes went wide. She turned to the principal quickly. “We can’t do that. You know how much I love school, Mrs. M.!”
Another nickname, which meant the rules of school decorum might not be very rigid in Golden Grove.
“And we all appreciate your enthusiasm and scholarly efforts, Vangie, but the school isn’t equipped to handle prying people or—”
The school secretary buzzed in right then. “Mrs. Menendez, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a developing situation. Reporters are clogging the bus loop. The buses can’t pull in to pick up the students. There are sheriff’s deputies arriving to help straighten things out, but I thought you should be aware.”
Reporters. Law-enforcement response en masse. All for a little girl who should have been watched more carefully.
The injustice of it rose up to choke Christa.
She knew the inequalities of police response. She’d seen it firsthand. Little help came her way back in Sinclair, California, but up here in small-town Washington State, a cute kid makes a heart-wrenching video and cops come out of the woodwork to keep her safe and sound.
The disparity triggered too many old hurts. Where was all this help when a teenage girl found herself in desperate situations thirteen years ago?
Fortunately, Evangeline was a pleasure to have in class, and Christa would only have to see the clueless father a few times over the course of the year. She could handle that. She stood. “I’ve got to get back to my class for dismissal. If the buses can safely access the children, that is.”
The deputy rose out of his chair, too.
He didn’t loom, although he could have because he was a good six inches taller than she was. He turned her way. “Ms. Alero, I’m sorry our first meeting was like this. Evangeline is normally—” he slanted a gaze at his daughter “—well behaved. And a hard worker. You can be sure I’ll follow through with this at home.”
She appreciated the sincere promise. She nodded quickly. “Thank you, Deputy Moyer.”
She started to turn but had to stop when a shorter, older man in uniform strode into the room. He stood inside, crossed his arms and held the taller cop’s gaze. “This is a debacle and just a few months before my retirement, Tug. I was hoping
for a quiet fall, but I guess not.”
The deputy’s boss?
She spotted the name tag that read Sheriff Wainwright and she almost felt sorry for Evangeline’s father.
“It is, sir. We’ll see that it gets fixed.” That was the deputy’s response, but he didn’t seem all that concerned.
“We’ve got the bus loop handled,” the sheriff continued, “but with the outpouring of media and the growing unrest in the middle school, the school council and I have made a decision.”
The deputy kept his face flat as he asked, “A decision?”
“Tug, you’re great with kids,” said the sheriff. “You’re one of the best officers we’ve got, and you know I have to pull you off patrol after today’s incident. One of us needs to follow protocol. In this case, it’s me.”
The deputy acknowledged that with a twitch of his mouth, and Christa did not want to think how engaging that particular move was. Not following the rules made him a rule breaker, too, she realized. Clearly the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.
“We’re reassigning you to the school district temporarily. You’ll be the Golden Grove resource officer for a while. That way we’ve addressed security issues at the school, and the rise in gang affiliation with the kids in a few of the rougher areas.”
“Dad!” Evangeline grabbed hold of his hand. “Does that mean you’ll work right here? With me and Nathan? Won’t that be so absolutely perfect?”
Christa’s emotions rose all over again. She couldn’t believe that the county was naming a resource officer to the schools because a cute kid posted a video.
The lack of equitability sent a slow burn up her back.
They’d had a few guards at Sinclair City High, and each one of them had turned their back on a whole lot of stuff that went down in those halls. Stuff that had changed her life.
She took a step toward the door. “Excuse me.”
The sheriff smiled at her and stepped aside, but then he offered his hand. “You’re new here, aren’t you? Welcome to Golden Grove, Ms. Alero. Mrs. Menendez shared your credentials with the board and we worried that a bigger district might win the day, so we were very happy when you chose us.”
She accepted the kind gesture. “Thank you, Sheriff. My aunt lives somewhere in this area, and she loved the location. I haven’t had time to connect with her yet, but it will be nice to become reacquainted. We haven’t seen each other in over fifteen years.”
“Family’s a good thing.”
She hoped so.
Her mother had kicked her aunt out of the house when Christa was twelve. They’d emigrated from Guatemala before Christa was born. Her mother had come to America to give her three-year-old sister and her unborn child a chance at a new life. She’d sacrificed so much to offer a clear, clean future, but neither she nor her aunt had respected that as a teen.
Christa was sorry for that now. It was too late to make it up to her late mother, but maybe she and Marta could make a difference together. She eased out the door and started toward her classroom.
“Ms. Alero.”
That voice. Kind, yet commanding.
She’d seen the election posters that had popped up around town the past few days. Now she could put a face to the Tug Moyer for Sheriff signs dotting many front lawns.
Evangeline’s good-looking father wasn’t only a local deputy. He was running for county sheriff, and that position could make him privy to all kinds of information. Like why she had a juvenile record back in California.
She turned and looked at him.
He met her gaze with such a sincere expression that her heart almost melted, but not quite. “Yes?”
He fell into step beside her, as if he cared that she was needed in her classroom and didn’t want to hold her up. “I truly am sorry about this. Impressed, too.” He slanted her a grin and she had to work hard to ignore the way her heart jumped again. “Vangie’s a quick learner, and I’m her project-of-the-day, it seems.”
The fairly laid-back assessment tweaked her. “Project-of-the-day?”
“In her quest for total world domination, my daughter is pretty sure she can fix things if people would simply listen to her.”
His frank words drew her smile. “A lady boss.”
The title deepened the laugh lines around his eyes. “Exactly. And it will be fine with me when she moves on from the current quest because I’m pretty much a lost cause in the romance department.”
She was about to do a mental eye roll because that was about the cheesiest line she’d ever heard, and she’d heard her share over the last few years...
But then he went on.
“We lost her mom three years ago.”
The revelation sparked her sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
He acknowledged her words with a look of appreciation. “Thank you. I won’t pretend it’s been easy, but other than the current debacle,” he added frankly as they neared her door, “we’re doing all right on our own. And while I hate to disappoint my resident matchmaker, that’s how it’s going to stay. I’ve got enough on my plate. As you can plainly see.”
They’d reached her classroom.
She paused.
So did he.
And when she looked up and met his gaze, she read the sorrow and sincerity there, and that expression was enough to make her wish he’d give romance a second chance.
Copyright © 2020 by Ruth M. Blodgett
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ISBN: 9781488060106
Hoping for a Father
Copyright © 2020 by Lois M. Richer
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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