by Cindi Myers
“Thank you.” He looked at each of them. Had he been so young and earnest once? “Are you sure you really want to stick your necks out for us?” He looked around them at the sometimes hostile faces. “I don’t think we’re all that popular at the moment.”
Jessica stepped up beside Berk. “One of the things we learned from your father’s book is to do what’s right, not what’s popular.”
He nodded, too moved to speak. Did you hear that, Dad?
“I call this meeting of the Cedar Creek Independent School District to Order.” The board president, Sandy Ames, pounded his gavel and the audience settled into their seats. Dylan found a spot next to Troy along the wall while those who had signed on to address the board lined up behind a microphone in the center of the room.
The first speaker was a refined-looking woman who stated she was “appalled” at “this blatant corruption of our young people by persons responsible for the formation of their character.” Subsequent speakers railed against young people being involved in politics at all, the arrogance of big-city lawyers who came into town and tried to change things and the questionable morals of some of those in the teaching profession.
Dylan ground his teeth together, hands clenched into fists. “These people would question the morals of Mother Teresa,” he growled.
Troy put a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. Our side gets a turn, too.”
Dylan watched Taylor. She sat stone-still, head up, facing forward, her skin the color of parchment. She scarcely blinked as angry parents and citizens called for her resignation. What was going through her head right now? Was she sorry she’d ever met him? Or only sorry that he wasn’t beside her right now?
Grady Murphy stepped up to the microphone and cleared his throat. “I’m Grady Murphy, head of the English Department at Cedar Creek High. I’ve known Taylor Reed and Dylan Gates a long time, since we were all at school together. I think I know their characters pretty well.”
Taylor jerked her head around to stare at him, eyes blazing. Grady continued speaking, his voice gravelly. “I have to say, Taylor Reed is one of the best teachers we’ve ever had. She has the rare ability to make her students want to learn. She teaches them, not just the subject matter of the course, but how to think and to use their minds.” He cleared his throat again. “She’s made me rethink some of the ways I teach myself. As for Dylan Gates…” He glanced over at Dylan. “He may have gone off to the big city, but he came home because he is a part of this community. He wants to give back to the place he calls home. I guess like anyone who’s lived long enough, he’s made his share of enemies. Maybe one of them had something to do with what happened last night, but I know Dylan is innocent, as is Taylor.”
As Grady moved away from the microphone, Dylan met Taylor’s eyes across the room. She looked stunned, her cheeks flushed.
“I’m Clay Walsh, principal of Cedar Creek High School.” Clay took Grady’s place at the microphone. “I want to second Grady’s assertion that Taylor Reed is one of the top teachers on our staff. As some of you may know, Taylor was recently awarded a prestigious Oxford fellowship. It’s quite an honor, though I’ve been doing my darnedest to convince her not to go. We need more teachers like her on the staff. I’m certain she had nothing to do with those students either drinking or being present at Mr. Gates’s campaign headquarters that night.”
Mindy spoke next, about how Taylor had inspired her as a teacher and a friend. “I was at Dylan Gates’s campaign headquarters Saturday night,” she said. “Those boys came in uninvited and it was clear they’d been drinking before they ever walked in the door. Dylan and Taylor had nothing to do with their being there.”
Another teacher and a parent took their turn at the mike. Then Alyson stepped up. Taylor frowned and looked away. Dylan’s shoulders tightened. What would Taylor’s life-long nemesis have to say about her now?
“My name is Alyson Michaels and I teach physical education at Cedar Creek High School. I’ve known Taylor Reed since the first day she walked into that building as a student ten years ago.” She grinned at the audience. “She was a California girl who looked like she’d just stepped off a movie set and I was green with envy when I saw the way all the boys looked at her.”
Nervous laughter floated up from parts of the audience. Alyson looked at Taylor. “But I don’t think you can be jealous of someone unless you secretly admire them, too. And I always admired the way Taylor handled herself. She could be a little stuck up sometimes, but she was never mean. And I know as a teacher, she truly cares about her students. I think the board would be doing us all a disservice to take any action against someone like her, who has always given her best as a teacher.”
Alyson flashed her smile again and walked away, hips twitching. Dylan stared after her, then glanced at Taylor. She was sitting, head down, hand over her eyes.
“I understand we have a group of students who would like to speak,” Sandy said.
“Yes, sir.” Berk stood, followed by Dale, Jessica and Patrice. “We’re students in Ms. Reed’s class, and we were at Mr. Gates’s headquarters Saturday night.”
Sandy nodded. “All right. You have five minutes.”
Berk shuffled to the mike and cleared his throat. “Saturday night, we went to Mr. Gates’s to help stuff envelopes for his campaign. We went because he’d been a big help to us with a class project we’re working on and we wanted to pay him back.” He looked at the others, who nodded.
“Anyway, while we were there, these three boys came busting in. Rudy Halberg, Craig Derrazo and Mike Palermo. It was pretty obvious they’d been drinking. Mr. Gates asked them to leave right away, but they wouldn’t. They said they’d been invited.”
“Who invited them?” the president asked.
“They wouldn’t say.” Jessica leaned into the microphone. “They just kept loading their plates up with pizza.”
“We only had pizza and sodas,” Patrice added. “No beer. They brought theirs with them.”
“Mr. Gates and Mr. Sommers made them leave and that was it,” Dale said. “Nothing happened.”
“And Ms. Reed didn’t have anything to do with it,” Berk said. “She was over in a corner working on something when all this happened.” He shoved his hands into his pants’ pockets. “I just think y’all would be making a big mistake to try to blame any of this on her or Mr. Gates. Somebody screwed up, but it wasn’t them.” He nodded. “That’s all.”
“Thank you, son.” The president slammed down his gavel once more. “If there are no more speakers…”
“Wait.” Dylan pushed his way forward. “I’d like to address the board, if I may?”
The board members frowned and consulted one another. Dylan saw Maidy Sellers shake her head. Finally, Sandy turned to address him. “Your name is not on the list of speakers, but in the interest of fairness, I feel we should make an exception. You have five minutes.”
“Thank you.” He squared himself in front of the microphone. “I came back to Cedar Creek after some years on the West Coast because I knew that this was where I belonged. This town is a special place and I want to do my part to keep it that way. That’s why, when a group of citizens asked me to run for school board, I agreed. I saw it as a way to give back to this community.
“About that same time, I renewed my old acquaintance with Taylor Reed. I’ve seen the fine woman she’s become and how much she’s done for her students. I was concerned and disappointed to see that anyone felt this meeting tonight was even necessary. Any accusations that have been made against her are entirely false.”
“Of course you’d think that.”
Dylan turned to see who was speaking and found himself staring across the room at Darrell Spivey. Though in his sixties now, the city councilman stood as straight and broad-shouldered as he had years ago when he’d railed against Dylan’s father. “You’re in an illicit relationship with the woman,” Spivey continued.
“Councilman, you are out of order.” Sandy slammed down his gavel.
“It’s all right,” Dylan said. “I’d like to address this, if I may.” He nodded to Spivey. “I wouldn’t call my relationship with Taylor Reed illicit.” He looked at Taylor, willing her to meet his eyes. But she kept her head bent, forcing him to speak to her slumped shoulders. It didn’t matter. She would hear what he had to say and know that he meant it.
He raised his voice, so that everyone else would hear it, too. “The fact is, I’m in love with Taylor Reed. I have been for a very long time.” He focused his gaze on Spivey again. To think he’d once been intimidated by this man. “Do you know what that feels like, Councilman? I pity you, because I think you don’t. I think you’ve let your bitterness over the past destroy any joy you might have in the future. I don’t intend to let that happen to me.”
He was dimly aware of the cheers that rose up around him, of hands patting his back and people jostling his side. Taylor still had her head down, her shoulders shaking, as if she were weeping. All the bravado he’d felt a moment before deserted him. What if Taylor didn’t return his feelings? What if he’d just made a very public fool of himself?
He barely had the strength to push his way to the door. He needed air. As he shoved open the door, he heard Sandy Ames adjourn the meeting to an executive session to consider the matter at hand.
AS THE CROWD FILED OUT of the boardroom, Taylor slipped down the hall to a private office to hide. She was too overwhelmed by everything that had happened to face anyone right now. Not bothering to turn on the light, she sank into a desk chair and covered her face with her hands. Had people really said all those wonderful things about her—even Grady and Alyson?
She lowered her hands and stared out at the dimly lit room, Alyson’s words replaying in her mind. Her comment about Taylor being “a little stuck up” hit home. Had her attempts to appear indifferent to others’ opinions of her come off instead as aloof and unfriendly? Had she been guilty of judging too harshly?
Was Dylan right? Was she wrong about what people thought of her? Was her love life not the only part of her stuck in the past?
And Dylan. Oh, God, Dylan. She sank lower in the chair, heart beating so hard she thought it might burst. He’d said he loved her. That he’d loved her for a long time. Hearing those words she’d known they were true for her, as well. She’d loved Dylan Gates for ten years now. What had made her think she could purge herself of those feelings by retreating into fantasy?
She’d thought she could keep physical passion separate from emotional intimacy. What a fool she’d been.
What would she do now? She’d been wrong about so much. She didn’t want to be wrong about this, too.
She put her head down on the desk and closed her eyes, willing her mind to empty, praying for direction.
She didn’t know how much time passed before Mindy came to get her. “They’re ready to announce their decision,” Mindy said.
Taylor nodded and reached for her purse. “All right.”
“Here. You’d better fix your makeup.” Mindy turned on the light and handed Taylor a tissue.
She found a mirror in her purse and dabbed at her smudged mascara. “I look hideous.”
“It’ll be all right.” She put a hand on Taylor’s shoulder and squeezed.
Taylor looked up at her friend. “Thanks. For everything. I know I don’t say that enough.”
“I haven’t really done anything.”
“You’re here with me now. That’s something.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
But would she? Taylor wondered how good a friend she’d been to anyone. Was it too late to change that?
Together, they walked down the hall to the boardroom. Dylan was already there and when he motioned her over, she went to stand by him. She slipped her hand into his, holding on tightly, hoping that handclasp would tell him things she didn’t yet have the words to say.
The board president, Sandy Ames, stood behind the lectern at the center of the dais, every line of his face deepened by the harsh fluorescent lights. She remembered seeing him in the grocery store he’d managed when she was a girl and thinking him old then, but he wouldn’t have been over forty in those days. Funny how time changed all sorts of perceptions she’d had about people.
“Thank you for your patience at this late hour,” he said. “Now, I’ll make this brief.” He consulted a piece of paper in his hand. “This board finds no grounds for disciplinary action in this matter.”
Cheers went up around them. Taylor felt hands jostling her, congratulations echoing in her ears. She clung to Dylan. He put his arm around her, holding her up. “Come on.” He spoke close to her ear, his breath warm, stirring her hair. “I’ll take you home.”
He led her out a back door, avoiding the press she was sure was waiting out front. She didn’t bother to ask about her car; she didn’t really care. She could think about those things tomorrow. There were too many other thoughts crowding her mind right now.
Neither one of them said anything until they were several miles away, past the turnoff to her house. “Where are we going?” She turned to look at him. His face was in shadow, but she thought she would have known the jut of his chin and the firm line of his brow anywhere, the way she knew her own profile in a mirror.
He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “There’s something I want you to see,” he said.
Soon enough, she recognized the road leading to his parents’ house. She hadn’t been here in years, but little had changed. The same ranch property stretched on either side of the two-lane road. The same gas and grocery sat on the corner a mile above his place. “It’s like time stood still out here,” she said.
“There are a few newer houses,” he said. “New families in some of the old ones. But mostly things are the same. I guess the developers don’t consider this side of town attractive yet.”
He pulled his truck into the driveway and parked by the back door. They entered through the kitchen, which smelled of fresh paint. Gloss-white cabinets reflected the glow of overhead floods, while a white granite island would have looked at home in a Los Angeles loft. “Everything looks great,” she said, running her hand across the smooth countertop.
“I was able to keep a lot of the fixtures in the house, but this room needed updating.” He opened a cabinet in the island. “Would you like a drink? Gin and tonic?”
“That sounds good.” Anything to pull her out of the numbness stealing over her. She could feel her senses shutting down from overload.
Drink in hand, she leaned back against the sink. “You’ve been really busy to get all this done in so short a time.”
“The other rooms aren’t this far along. Most of the paint is done and some of the floors. There’s still plumbing and electrical.” He looked around. “I’d have probably come off cheaper if I’d started over building a new place from scratch.”
“But that’s not the point. Those places wouldn’t have been your home.”
He settled against the island, facing her. “No. I wanted to be here, even if I didn’t necessarily want it the same.”
“Your parents would be proud.”
A smile quirked the corners of his mouth. “It felt good coming back here. Right.” He raised his eyes to meet hers, his gaze searching. “I know what that word means to me, but what does it mean to you?”
She set her glass aside and hugged her arms tight across her chest, digging deep for the right words. “I—I don’t know. I think home is a place I’m still looking for.”
“Do you think you’ll find it in Oxford?”
“Before tonight, I might have said yes, but now…” She shook her head. “No. I don’t think so.”
“People meant what they said tonight about you. They respect you. They value your friendship.” He set his own drink aside. “And I meant what I said, too. I do love you.”
She nodded, her heart racing, her throat squeezing around her words. “I know you do.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “And I think I love you, too.”
He moved to her, wrapping his hands around her shoulders, pulling her close. She rested her forehead against his chest, trying to stop shaking. The words she’d said…the things she felt…why did they terrify her so? Was it because they seemed so fragile, something one wrong move would send shattering into dust?
He slid his hands down her arms and twined his fingers in hers. “Isn’t that enough? Can’t we take that and make our own future together?”
She looked up at him, into those brown eyes so full of trust. So full of faith in her. “I—I don’t know. So much has happened tonight. So much to think about…” She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chin. “I’m tired. I don’t want to think anymore. I just want to…be.”
He cradled her face in his hand and tipped her chin up until her mouth found his. The kiss was gentle, but insistent, demanding an intimacy that both thrilled and frightened her.
He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. “Stay here with me tonight.” His gaze searched her, probing deeper. “All night.”
She nodded. “All right.” Maybe there was something to be learned from staying with him until the sun rose.
Wordlessly, he took her hand and led her from the kitchen, down the hall to a large bedroom. In the dim glow of one bedside lamp, she had an impression of heavy mahogany furniture and a blue-and-white quilt in a Texas Star pattern. He shut the bedroom door behind them, then turned and unfastened the top button of her blouse.
She reached up to help him, but he stilled her hand. “No. I want to undress you. All you have to do is relax…and be.”
He worked swiftly, fingertips barely grazing her skin as he unfastened her blouse and skirt, letting the garments fall to the floor around her ankles. He undid the clasp of her bra and skimmed it back over her shoulder. She felt his gaze on her, as intense as any touch, and her nipples rose and tightened.
He helped her step out of her panties and panty hose, and now she was naked in front of him. He stepped back and looked at her, not speaking or saying anything. She fought the urge to cover herself with her arms. “What is it?” she whispered, not wanting to break the silent spell that held them.