by Laura Moore
Margot frowned at him. “It’s not nearly as exotic as you think. More and more college papers have them. In my opinion they serve an important function in allowing the students to talk openly and responsibly with their peers about sex and relationships. But someone—and I’d bet every acre of Rosewood that it was Christy Harrison or Nonie—went to Ted Guerra and told him about Jade’s column.”
It was Rob’s turn to frown. “Because he didn’t know about it?”
“Right. Jade put down on her CV that she’d worked on the school paper but didn’t specify that she’d written her own column.” Margot broke off to drag her fingers through her hair in a gesture of frustration.
With a sigh, she continued, “Okay. Maybe Jade should have informed Ted Guerra about her advice column, but I can see how she would have thought that what she wrote was strictly part of her college experience and it was the fact that she carved out the time for a demanding extracurricular activity in her already loaded schedule that was significant. It’s not as if she’s teaching sex education to her class, for God’s sake.”
“What burns me is that Nonie and Christy and Pamela and Blair will make this into a referendum on Jade’s morals,” Jordan said.
“A real case of the pot calling the kettle black,” Margot said scornfully.
“We brought this for you.” Jordan slid her bag off her shoulder and opened it, then withdrew a manila envelope. “Inside are some of Jade’s old articles. It’s not everything she wrote, but it gives a good idea of the subjects she was addressing and how she handled them.”
Handing him the packet, she said, “Rob, you’re a parent in Jade’s class and an important figure in our community. Could you please read these and, if you don’t find them offensive or alarming, could we count on you to do what you can to help her?”
“To say she’s devastated by this would be putting it mildly,” Margot said. “You’ve seen firsthand how much she loves teaching, how good she is at it. Now not only is her future as a teacher in jeopardy, but so is her riding program. She can, of course, ride for Rosewood and show our horses in the ring and compete with them in cross-country events, but it would be such a terrible shame—a waste of her talents and a huge loss for the kids she could teach. It infuriates me that Nonie and Christy are willing to be so vindictive.”
“So you really think the Harrisons are involved in this business?”
“Definitely,” Margot said. “Jade saw Blair Hood—Nonie Harrison’s niece—at the Brass Horn last weekend. Blair hasn’t gotten past her high school hatred of Jade. And Nonie was livid at not being able to prevent Jade from being hired, and Christy has obviously decided to emulate her in-laws in all things bitchy.”
“But Margot and I intend to make it very clear to the Harrisons as well as the Hoods that we’ve had enough. Their spiteful vendetta against Jade ends now.” Jordan’s usually serene face was a study in cold determination.
If half of what she and Margot were saying was correct, he could understand their attitude. He’d never been impressed by the Harrisons. Nevertheless, he was a cop.
“Whatever it is you’re going to say—or do—to the Harrisons, should I be concerned as a keeper of the peace? Are we talking violence or anything illegal?”
“Rob, anyone who knows me will tell you that I am not an aggressive person,” Jordan said. “But our next stop is Overlea, the Harrisons’ house, where Nonie, Pamela, Christy, and Blair are doubtless gathered with their cells and phonebooks. And right now I’ll admit to wanting desperately to charge in there and begin bloodying their noses. Hanks of hair might start flying too—”
Margot cut Jordan off before she could continue describing her bloodlust. “But luckily we won’t have to go against Jordan’s peaceful nature. We’re simply going to drop by and share some key information that we’ve recently learned. We think Nonie and her sister, Pamela, will be quite interested to hear it. I have every confidence that once we’ve had our nice, friendly chat, they’re going to reconsider pursuing their campaign to fire Jade.”
“Yes,” Jordan said. “We’re expecting a major attitude adjustment. But if our friendly chat doesn’t produce the desired effect, then you should prepare for Warburg to become a very exciting place, scandal-wise. And there may be bloodied noses too.”
“Jade’s been hurt too many times by these people.”
“Okay.” Rob gripped the manila envelope containing Jade’s articles. A part of him wanted to tear it open and start reading. Another part was filled with trepidation. What if she’d gone too far and been outrageous? She’d been a college student, after all. If the material was inflammatory, would he be able to help her and convince other parents to support her?
“Thanks, Rob. We were hoping we could count on you. We’ll be in touch after our visit to Overlea. And, to make your job easier, if we find ourselves forced to inflict bodily damage, we promise to turn ourselves in.” Jordan smiled sweetly.
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks.” But as the sisters turned to leave, Rob said, “Wait. Before you go, do you mind telling me who someone named Greg is and what’s his relationship to Jade?”
Margot gave him a considering look. “If we don’t, will you still help Jade?”
Rob was all too aware of how quick he’d been to judge and condemn Jade in the past and was determined not to repeat the mistake. Yes, he and Jade needed to repair the rift between them. But that would have to wait until he’d read her articles and figured out a way to help her. As far as he knew, none of the college-newspaper business had anything to do with this man named Greg.
It was time to follow his heart and trust his love for Jade.
“Of course I will,” he said.
“Good answer.” Margot smiled warmly. “And just so you know, Rob, I think you’re a great man for her. But, for both your sakes, it’ll be better if Jade explains about Greg Hammond herself.”
Alone in the lounge, Rob sat down on the sofa. Flipping the envelope over, he fingered the flap and the metal clasp, hesitating. He was nervous, unsure of what he’d find inside.
Why? he asked himself. He already knew Jade. She was passionate and, yes, at times wild and reckless. But she was also incredibly smart and sensitive. He simply could not imagine her being less than forthright and honest when writing a column about sex.
He hoped that the Jade he knew—the Jade he’d fallen in love with—was going to shine through in the articles she’d penned.
Twenty-five minutes later, he sank back against the sofa. A broad smile lit his face. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, “you are a miracle.”
Rob knocked on Eric Drogan’s door. Expecting him, his friend opened it immediately.
“Glad you got here so quickly. They’ll be putting the paper to bed in an hour, so I’ll have to write this editorial damned fast.”
Following Eric past the living room and into his study, Rob handed him the envelope with Jade’s articles. “After reading a couple of these, I think you’ll have plenty to say.”
Eric merely grunted, sank into an overstuffed chair in need of reupholstering, and picked up the first of the articles.
Leaving Eric to his reading, Rob wandered into the kitchen, where he called Emma to let her know he’d be home in time to tuck Hayley into bed. Then, grabbing two beers from the refrigerator, he opened them and headed back into the study.
Silently, he passed one to Eric, who took a slug, set the bottle by his sneakered foot, and resumed reading. Rob pushed aside an already messy pile of papers and books covering the sofa and sat down to wait.
His beer was only three-quarters finished when Eric looked up.
“Quite an interesting woman you’ve gotten involved with.”
“Yeah. I think she may be one of a kind. So, can you do anything to help me sway public opinion in her favor?”
“I’ll certainly do my best. Is she as good a teacher as she is a columnist?”
“She’s fantastic. The kids in her class love her.”
; “Oh, well.” Eric gave a philosophical shrug. “I was going to suggest that if the board votes against her, she can come work for me at the Courier. It would do Warburg a world of good to have a column like this. And it would definitely boost readership among our younger demographic.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “I suppose I can’t deprive Hayley of her beloved teacher, but perhaps I can convince Jade to write a guest column? A monthly spot in the health-and-fitness section perhaps,” he said, as much to himself as to Rob.
Rob grinned. “Give it a shot.”
“I think I will. But first things first.” Eric stood up, suddenly all business. “I have an editorial to write, so finish your beer and get the hell outta here.”
Rob didn’t need to be told twice. He wanted to get home and tuck Hayley into bed. If he hurried, he might even be able to read her a few pages from Misty of Chincoteague, then he had a long list of parents to call. The more people he reached tonight, the better chance he had of countering the effects of the Warburg gossip mill.
“I owe you, buddy,” he said, shaking Eric’s hand.
“Nope. This is a good cause. I’m glad to join the fight. Makes me remember what small-town newspapers are supposed to be about: informing and rallying the citizens. Let’s talk tomorrow, after people have had a chance to digest my editorial.”
FOR JADE, the next day had a strangely off-kilter sense to it. Her weekday schedule was already ingrained, her alarm clock ringing early so she could tend to the ponies and then set out for school, always factoring in enough time for a quick dash into Braverman’s to grab a coffee and muffin.
The first segment of the morning began as usual. She fed and watered the ponies at their normal hour, and when they’d finished their breakfast, she turned them out in the pasture so they could nibble on the short, dry grass and stretch their muscles and she could muck out their stalls with maximum efficiency.
Once the chores were completed, however, the morning loomed like a big empty desert she had to cross. It would, she knew, have been the perfect opportunity to hop into her Porsche and make a Braverman’s run. But going into town would entail interacting with any number of people, something she couldn’t face. In a place like Warburg, word spread fast. Some people—friends like Roger Braverman and George Rollins and the Steadmans and Stuart Wilde—would stick by her when they learned of her latest fiasco, but she didn’t want to witness their consternation that once more she’d become the talk of the town.
Better to hunker down and cut off all ties to the outside world.
Needing something to occupy her so she wouldn’t obsess about what was happening in her classroom, she crossed the courtyard and entered the main barn.
Thankfully, Andy and the guys were busy mucking out the stalls in the stallions’ and broodmares’ barns, so she had to muster fake good cheer only with Ned and Travis.
“Hi, guys, reporting for duty and raring to go,” she said when she walked into what had been her father’s office. It had changed remarkably little since his death, the notable exception being a second desk, where Margot had installed a Mac and a printer. While Dad had liked his cars and airplanes to be the very latest models, he would have fought tooth and nail over the invasion of a computer in his office when paper, pencil stubs, and ballpoint pens served well enough. “Morning, Miss Jade. Travis and I were just talking about you.”
“All good, naturally.” A lame joke, but at least she was trying.
Such was the pity level that both men ignored it. “Topher’s vet should be emailing us the results of Carmen’s exam, which means Topher will probably want to pick her up this afternoon. We thought you might like to give her a farewell workout so she’s nice and mellow when we load her into the van,” Travis said.
Ned had poured a cup of coffee for her. Passing it to her, he said, “Owen’s real busy this week. He, Jesse, and Doug are starting work on that house in Upperville. He was wondering whether you could ride Cosmo for him today. And Valentine could use a good cross-country gallop. I don’t want her getting stale in the ring.”
At Ned’s suggestion that she go out for a gallop, Jade felt some of her world return to order. She folded her arms across her chest and nodded agreeably.
“Brown Betty needs a workout too. Margot and Jordan are tied up with some lunch thing with a couple of other mothers. If you’ve got time before your lesson kids arrive, we thought that you might also hop on Griffin. If you want, Griffin could be your new project now that Carmen’s going to a new barn,” Travis added.
“I’m sure Andy would be happy to have you lend a hand exercising the stallions. But I’m guessing that list there will take you right through the early afternoon,” Ned said.
Jade would bet that Ned wasn’t simply guessing. He and Travis had probably devised a schedule that would allow her fifteen minutes between horses and end just in time to bring the ponies in from the pasture for lessons.
One reason why Travis and Ned were so close was that Travis, too, shared the belief that horses were the best cure for whatever ailed a person. As philosophies went, it was a pretty sound one, and she was grateful to them for compiling a list of horses for her to train.
She was also grateful and profoundly relieved that they weren’t hovering anxiously over her. A single grandfatherly cluck of sympathy from Ned or a pat on the back from Travis and she’d have broken down and begun sobbing like a baby.
“That all sounds dandy.” Going over to the coffeemaker, she poured herself a cup and tried not to think of the latte she wasn’t drinking or the fact that this was first period and the kids would be sitting at their desks, writing in their journals. Had Sue Wilson, the substitute Ted Guerra had arranged to take Jade’s place, given them a good prompt? Was Eugene back at school now that she’d been banned? She hoped so, for his sake. Eugene liked school. Determined not to think of Hayley or Rob, she chugged her coffee and set her empty mug by the machine.
“I’ll ride Carmen first and then take Valentine out while the morning’s fine.”
Testing Ned and Travis’s philosophy to the limits, Jade did find a certain peace in the day’s riding, but it was hard won. Whenever she forgot to consciously block him from her mind, Rob suddenly appeared. A police officer in touch with the town’s goings-on, he would have heard the news by now.
Was he disgusted with her, back to regarding her as some sort of Jezebel who would taint the morals of innocents? Would he cancel Hayley’s riding lessons until he could arrange for her to enroll in a program with another instructor?
As the day wore on, her anxiety mounted. She began to wonder who in addition to Hayley might not show up for the afternoon lesson. Though her cell claimed its battery was fully charged, it was as silent as a tomb. No texts, no voice mails, nothing. Surely the fact that her cellphone hadn’t rung once since she’d slipped it in her vest pocket was a sign she’d become an outcast.
Luckily, she wasn’t in the saddle when the phone did finally ring. The sound of it had her jumping like a marionette in one of Olivia and Georgiana’s theatricals. She’d have spooked her mount for sure. As the phone pealed, her usual coordination abandoned her. She fumbled the soft brush she’d been using on Brown Betty; it fell, bouncing on the concrete floor beside the mare’s hoof. She made an equal hash of digging the phone from her pocket. When her fingers finally pressed the ANSWER key, she was breathless. How much more pathetic could she get?
“Hello?”
“Jade? Ted Guerra here.”
“Oh, hi, Ted.” She felt so awkward.
“I’m calling to bring you up to speed on the events that, as I predicted, have moved … well, er, speedily.…”
Okay, she thought, she wasn’t the only one feeling awkward. The knowledge didn’t make her any happier. Ted’s awkwardness was because of the difficult position she’d put him in.
“After you and I met yesterday, one of the more active board members contacted me, insisting that I call an emergency meeting to decide whether you’ll be able t
o retain your position at Warburg Elementary.”
“An emergency session?” Surely that boded ill for her prospects. There was no need for him to identify the “active” school-board member. Witch Harrison flew mighty fast on her broomstick.
“We’ll be meeting tomorrow afternoon at three-thirty P.M. It will be a closed session, meaning that only board members are permitted to attend. But of course you can come—”
“No—no. I’d just as soon not attend.” She wasn’t a chicken; she’d simply rather face a firing squad and be riddled with bullets and die than face one where she had to live with the wounds and remember the faces of her attackers.
“Yes, well, the discussion at the meeting is bound to be rather heated, especially now that the Warburg Courier has jumped into the fray. I certainly would love to know how they got a hold of the story so fast,” he added.
The Courier had written about her?
Oh God, she thought. Had the Harrisons not trusted in their own power to spread the scuttlebutt and decided to up the destruction quotient tenfold by calling the town newspaper and tipping them off about her own journalistic efforts? Funny, but she’d have thought that Nonie and Christy would prefer knowing they’d personally caused her ruin.
Ted Guerra cleared his throat. “But, Jade, I read some of your pieces, and I plan to fight for you. I’ve forwarded copies to the board members in the hope that others will see what I have—there is nothing objectionable in the things you wrote. Indeed, they’re commendable. Your only mistake was in not alerting us about your advice column so that we could deal with any ramifications.”
“I—” Emotion choked her. “I’m so sorry, Ted. I didn’t think.”
“Let’s hope I can sway the other board members. I’ve got to go. There’s a lot to be done before tomorrow’s meeting.”
Disconnecting, Jade glanced at the clock on her phone. By her estimate, in roughly twenty-eight hours she’d know just how much of her life lay in ruins.
It turned out her estimate was wrong.