by Gina Wilkins
“Saturday evening?” he added enticingly.
She took a deep breath, then answered rashly, “Okay. Fine. Saturday evening.”
He sounded just a bit smug when he replied, “Great. I’ll look forward to it. I’ll call you later in the week to set up a time, okay?”
“Yes, that will be fine,” she murmured, hoping she hadn’t made a serious mistake. She reassured herself that she was only agreeing to dinner. A simple date. How big a mistake could that be?
“I suppose I should let you get back to your nephew.”
“Yes. I promised to help him with his homework.”
“Then I’ll talk to you later in the week. Good night, Blair.”
“Good night, Scott.”
It occurred to her as she hung up the phone that she now had a date with Scott McKay on Saturday evening.
And she hadn’t had to pay for this one.
*
THE WEEKEND with Scott had not, of course, accomplished miracles. When Blair stopped at her aunt’s house to pick Jeffrey up Wednesday afternoon, she could tell immediately from Wanda’s expression that something was wrong. She braced herself. “What happened?”
“Jeffrey got into a fight after school. He’s been suspended for the rest of the week.”
Blair was horrified. “He got into a fight? What happened? Who did he fight with? Is he all right?”
As if in answer, Jeffrey slipped into the room, looking braced for trouble. He sported a colorful bruise beneath his left eye, accenting the scabbed-over scrapes on his chin from his fall at Scott’s cabin. The pocket of his knit shirt had been ripped at one corner. His expression was a mixture of dread and defiance.
Blair moved to his side, tilting his chin with her finger to examine his injuries. Satisfied they weren’t serious, she leveled a frown at him. “All right. Let’s hear it.”
“I got into a fight with Jason Pritchard. One of the teachers reported us, so now we’re both suspended for the rest of the week,” he muttered.
“That’s hardly enough information, Jeffrey. What was the fight about? Who started it?”
“He shot off his mouth.”
“And who threw the first punch?”
Jeffrey’s lower lip jutted outward. “He wouldn’t shut up.”
“So you hit him?”
He shrugged, looked at the floor and shuffled his feet, refusing to answer. But, then, he really didn’t have to.
Blair sighed. “ We’ll talk about this at home.”
Dragging his backpack, Jeffrey trudged out with only a mumbled goodbye to his great-aunt.
Wanda rested a reassuring hand on Blair’s shoulder. “This is part of raising a child, too. They make bad decisions sometimes and have to be shown the consequences.”
“I’m not sure how to handle this,” Blair admitted wearily. “If I’m too lenient, he won’t learn a lesson and he might do it again. If I’m too strict, he’s likely to rebel and do something even worse.”
Her aunt looked at her sympathetically. “Since I never raised a child, I’m afraid I can’t be much help. All I can suggest is that you follow your instincts, Blair. They’ve served you well with Jeffrey so far.”
“I hope you’re right,” Blair said, turning toward the door without much enthusiasm.
Because it was raining lightly, Blair had driven into her aunt’s driveway rather than parking in her own garage and walking over to collect Jeffrey, as she usually did. Jeffrey climbed silently into her car, looking so much like the angry, sullen, withdrawn boy he’d been before that it made Blair’s chest ache.
She had been so focused on her nephew that she was surprised to find an unfamiliar vehicle parked in her driveway when she pulled in. It was one of those big four-wheel-drive sport vehicles in a gleaming silver. It looked new and expensive. It looked like something Scott McKay would drive, she thought, even as the driver’s door opened and Scott stepped out into the drizzle, looking lean and tough—and darned near irresistible—in denim shirt, jeans and boots.
Just what she needed to top this day off.
A flash of excitement crossed Jeffrey’s face. “It’s Scott!” he said, then remembered that he was in trouble and fell silent again.
Blair drove past Scott into her garage, parked her car and turned off the engine. Scott stepped forward to open her door for her. “Hi. How’s it going?”
She had rather hoped that time and distance had diluted her response to this man. The moment he took her hand to help her out of the car, she knew she’d hoped in vain. A jolt of excitement sizzled all the way through her, and she reclaimed her hand the moment she was on her feet.
“This is a surprise,” she said unnecessarily. “We weren’t expecting to see you today.”
“I know. I just happened to be in the neighborhood and I thought I’d drop by and meet the cat. Unless this is a bad time?”
“Well...”
Jeffrey walked around the front of the car to join them. “Hi, Scott.”
“Hi, part—hey, what happened to your face? Were you in an accident?”
“He ‘accidentally’ connected with another boy’s fist,” Blair remarked dryly.
“Some jerk hit him?” Scott’s brows drew into a scowl. “Who was it? What’s being done about this?”
“Before you get too outraged, you should probably know that Jeffrey hit first,” Blair informed him.
That made him pause for a moment, his gaze on Jeffrey, who huddled miserably in front of them. “I see.”
“Both boys have been suspended from school for the remainder of the week.”
Scott nodded. “Sounds like you’ve got yourselves a situation here.”
“You could say that.”
“Right. So why don’t we talk about it over dinner. I brought barbecue.”
Blair blinked. “You—”
“I figured you’d like an excuse not to cook after a long day at the office, so I stopped for take-out. You don’t mind if I hang around to help your aunt yell at you, do you, Jeff?”
“Uh, no, I guess not,” Jeffrey answered, looking tentatively at Blair.
This evening was definitely spinning out of her control. Scott was obviously not asking permission to stay, though he would have no choice, of course, if she asked him to leave. Knowing she would do no such thing, she pulled her purse and briefcase out of the car and closed her door with a snap. “All right, you can stay. But it’s only because you brought food,” she added.
He grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind in the future.”
They would talk later about whether this would happen again in the future, Blair decided. She had to deal with Jeffrey first.
She sent Jeffrey to put away his backpack and wash his hands while Scott carried in a box from which wafted tempting aromas. “What happened to our
Saturday-night date?” she asked as she helped him set out the food on the kitchen table.
“Still on. This is simply a predate dinner.”
“It might have been nice if you’d given me some warning.”
“Sorry. Want me to leave?”
She could tell from his expression that he expected her to do no such thing. “Just call first next time.”
“Sure thing,” he said a bit too easily. “So tell me about this fight Jeff got into. What started it?”
“I don’t know yet. I had planned to sit him down and get all the details as soon as we got home.”
“So what are you going to do to him?”
“I suppose that depends on the circumstances.”
Jeffrey entered the room carrying his cat in his arms, his expression still wary but not as sullen as it had been before Scott appeared. “This is Belle,” he announced.
Scott made a production of taking the cat and looking her over carefully. “She’s a fine specimen,” he pronounced, cradling the cat in his arm and rubbing her head. From her blissful expression and loud purring, it was evident that she enjoyed the attention.
Jeffrey seemed pleased by Scott�
�s approval. “She’s very smart.”
“Yes, I can tell. She obviously likes me.”
Jeffrey grinned, then remembered to look somber again.
Blair served the dinner of sliced barbecue meat with a spicy sauce, baked beans, coleslaw and potato salad. Scott had even provided soft, yeasty rolls to accompany the meal. He kept a running, humorous commentary going as they ate, maintaining a pleasant atmosphere so they could enjoy their food.
No one mentioned the fight.
“I brought peach cobbler for dessert,” Scott said when the plates had been emptied. “But maybe we should wait on dessert,” he added, patting his tummy to show that he was full.
“I think so,” Blair agreed, wondering if she would be able to eat another bite that evening.
Scott turned to Jeffrey then. “Ready to tell us how the fight got started?”
Jeffrey shot a quick glance at Blair, then looked at Scott. “Can’t I just tell you about it? You know, guy-to-guy?”
“No,” Blair said firmly. “I want to hear this, too. What happened, Jeffrey?”
He sighed heavily. “Jason made me mad.”
“So you hit him.”
He nodded.
“How many times have we discussed this? Violence is never the answer, no matter what the other boy said. Regardless of how angry you were, the correct response was to walk away. You could have discussed the incident with me this evening and we would have decided the best course of action. I can assure you it would not have been a fistfight.”
Jeffrey swallowed and nodded.
Blair didn’t look away from him to judge Scott’s reaction to her words. “Do you understand, Jeffrey? Next time someone makes you angry—and it will happen again—I expect you to handle the situation very differently.”
Jeffrey’s eyes flared. “I’m just supposed to let him say whatever he wants? I’m not supposed to do anything about it?”
“I told you what to do about it. You come to me.”
He didn’t look at all satisfied with her answer. She suspected that she hadn’t quite convinced him he’d been wrong to lash out. She glanced at Scott then, wondering if a man’s perspective would help. Surely Scott would agree that fist fighting had been the wrong choice. “Scott? Would you like to comment?”
He seemed to have been waiting to be invited into the conversation. He looked at Jeffrey. “Why don’t you tell us what he said that made you so angry?”
Still looking furious, Jeffrey spoke in a rush. “Jason’s always giving me a hard time. He makes fun of me because I’m shorter than he is and because I’m new in town and because I live with my aunt. He said he heard my dad dumped me here because he didn’t want me, and he didn’t believe me when I said my dad’s coming back to get me. And then he said I’ll probably end up at Lost Springs with the other losers, and that’s why Aunt Blair was there for that auction thing, because she’s planning to send me there because she doesn’t really want me.”
Appalled, Blair struggled for words to tell Jeffrey what utter garbage that was. Scott spoke before she could. “Do you believe him, Jeff? That your aunt doesn’t want you?”
Jeffrey cleared his throat. “Well, I—”
“Because it seems to me,” Scott continued, “that Blair is happy to have you here. Look at all she’s done for you in the past week. She even got you a cat just because you mentioned wanting one.”
“I told Jason he was wrong,” Jeffrey assured Blair, as if he was worried that she’d been offended. “I said you weren’t trying to get rid of me, but he wouldn’t believe me. He just kept saying it. So I hit him to make him shut up.”
“The thing is that you knew he was wrong,” Scott said. “That’s all that really matters, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but—”
“What he said to you was vicious and unfounded, Jeffrey,” Blair chimed in. “And I don’t blame you for being angry. I feel that way myself. But you were still wrong to hit him.”
“Wouldn’t you have hit him, Scott?” Jeffrey demanded, obviously hoping for masculine moral support.
Blair held her breath.
“No,” Scott answered flatly, to Blair’s relief and Jeffrey’s obvious disappointment. “I never waste my time on jerks, and that guy is obviously a jerk. You’ve got better things to do than argue with morons, and you shouldn’t let them get you into trouble at school or anywhere else. Remember how we talked about keeping your own best interests in mind? Letting some dipstick sucker you into a fight or taunt you into doing something you know is wrong is hardly in your best interest.”
“So I should have just walked away?” Jeffrey asked, his voice subdued.
“Yeah. But with an attitude.”
“What do you mean?”
“Okay, I’ll show you. Blair, want to help me with some role-playing?”
She was willing to do whatever it took to help Jeffrey get the message. “What do you want me to do?”
He stood, hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans and spread his booted feet in a casual pose. “I’m standing here minding my own business and you’re a jerk spoiling for a fight. Go off on me so I can show the kid what to do.”
“Go off on you?” she repeated uncertainly.
“Yeah. You know. Call me ugly or something.”
That was enough to make Jeffrey snort with muffled laughter and Blair smile wryly. If there was one word that did not apply to Scott McKay, it was ugly. But she made an effort to play her part. “Hey, you,” she said, exaggerating belligerence. “You’re ugly.”
He gave her a raised-eyebrow glance, as if she were a bug that had caught his attention with its buzzing. In a cool voice, he asked, “I beg your pardon?”
“I said you’re ugly,” she repeated, crossing her arms over her chest. “And what’s that getup you’re wearing? You think you’re some sort of cowboy or something?”
“Whatever.” He turned his back to her and glanced pointedly at his watch.
“You’re ugly and your horse wears army boots,” Blair said, rather enjoying herself.
The look he gave her was chilling, though there was an undercurrent of amusement in his voice when he warned, “Don’t talk about my horse.”
“Or what, cowboy? You going to make me shut up?”
Jeffrey was giggling now, his hands over his mouth to quiet the sound.
Looking utterly bored, Scott stifled a yawn. “Not today. I have much better things to do.” And then he dismissed her with a condescending look, turned and sauntered away, his head high, almost exuding cowboy confidence.
Blair chuckled. “Okay,” she said. “You win.”
“You take it all back?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Oh, yes,” she assured him, then added meditatively, “except what I said about your horse.”
He grinned and ruffled her hair on his way back to his seat. “Cute.”
“That was real funny,” Jeffrey commented, his smile gone again. “But it’s not that easy. What if she didn’t shut up? What if she followed you and kept yelling things at you?”
“Then I’d have kept walking,” Scott replied. “Without a reaction, she’d have gotten bored and gone away.”
“And what if he—I mean, what if she had thrown the first punch? Wouldn’t you fight back if someone hit you?”
“I would never use my physical strength against someone who is smaller or weaker—as your aunt obviously is. So it wouldn’t have mattered if she had hit first, I wouldn’t have hit back.”
“Jason’s not smaller than me or weaker,” Jeffrey muttered. “What if he had hit me first?”
“Well, he didn’t, of course,” Blair had to point out.
“And if he had,” Scott added frankly, “you might have been forced to defend yourself. A man does everything he can to avoid a fight, but sometimes he isn’t given a choice.”
Blair frowned. “Fighting is never the answer.”
Scott gave her a look. “C’mon, Blair, you don’t expect him to let someone
beat the crap out of him, do you?”
“I would hope he would try to get away without fighting.”
“Of course. That’s what we were just talking about. I said it should be the last resort. So what Jeffrey should agree to is to never again be the guy who throws the first punch, no matter what drivel someone else spouts off. Can you promise us that, Jeffrey?”
“I’ll try,” the boy muttered.
Scott shook his head. “Not good enough. Before I went to Lost Springs, I was in a fight nearly every day. If someone even looked at me funny, I punched him. My counselor at Lost Springs made me promise I wouldn’t start any more fights and I kept that promise, even though sometimes it was very hard to do.”
“You’ve never been in a fight since then?”
Scott hesitated only a moment before answering, “I’ve never been in one without trying everything I could to avoid it. And I haven’t struck the first blow.”
“Scott made a promise,” Blair emphasized before Jeffrey could ask for details about the fights Scott hadn’t been able to avoid. “Will you make the same promise, Jeffrey? Will you agree that you won’t start any more fights, no matter what the provocation?”
“Okay,” Jeffrey conceded. “I won’t hit first.”
She supposed that was the best she could get at the moment. “Thank you. Now, as far as the next two days go, you’ll have to spend them at Aunt Wanda’s house since I’ll be at my office. I’m going to instruct her that you are not to watch television or play video games during school hours. You’ll attend to your schoolwork and read the book you’ve been assigned for your book report. I want the report finished by Sunday.”
“But it isn’t due till Wednesday,” Jeffrey protested.
“Then you’ll be finished early, won’t you?” she asked implacably. “You’ll have plenty of time to work on it.”
“Psst,” Scott said behind one hand. “Better quit while you’re behind, partner. She’s little, but she’s feisty.”
Jeffrey’s mouth twitched in what might have been a faint smile. He nodded. “Okay. It will be finished by Sunday. Can I still play with Belle when we’re home?” he asked worriedly.
“Of course. I’m not going to punish Belle because you messed up.”