by Liz Isaacson
“So I can’t help?”
Shannon blinked at him. “You want to help…how?”
He shrugged. “Maybe I could be in charge of your extended programs.”
“I have teachers for that,” she said, immediately regretting it.
“Of course.” Grant ducked his head and hightailed it out of the office. Just like that afternoon she’d told him he had to leave, he didn’t look back.
She sank into her chair, her mind racing. Had she just done it again? Told him to leave? Frantic, she returned to her budget. Could she afford to hire a summer extended program director?
She ran through the faculty she needed for the morning classes, and calculated the number of students who’d stay for lunch and then the extended afternoon session. She could do the lunchtime recess…and employ Grant to plan and carry out the afternoon activities.
If she limited the program to twenty students, she and Grant could handle the hour and half by themselves.
She leaned back in her chair. And she’d get to see him everyday like she’d hoped. A smile flirted with her mouth, and she quelled it. It all looked good on paper, but she’d have to tell the faculty the summer school positions were only half-time—which most of them already were anyway—and Grant would have to go through the hiring process at the school district.
Which meant she needed to get him started on that right away.
She leapt from her desk, wondering how many minutes had gone by since he’d left. She glanced out her window, which faced the front parking lot and saw the flash of a red truck as it pulled out of a stall and eased onto the road.
That had to be him. Her heart fell, but it rebounded quickly, and she lifted the phone again.
Half an hour later, she sat in the nearly empty diner, the mid-morning crowd limited to a couple of elderly gentlemen and a single waitress.
Grant finally pushed through the door, making the bells jingle, and swept the diner before heading her direction. He slid into the booth across from her and glared. “All right,” he said. “I’m here.”
She pushed a folder across the table to him and lifted her lukewarm coffee to her lips. “I’ll need you to fill out the paperwork for the district if you want to be my summer extended program director.”
He blinked and didn’t make a move for the folder. “What now?”
“I ran some numbers, and I can afford to hire you if you want the job.” She sipped the coffee again. “Of course, I have to officially list the job, and technically I have to interview for the position, but, well, you’ll come down for an interview, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“We’ll have to plan the program together. I can’t afford another advisor, so you and I alone will run the program.”
Grant leaned forward. “Is that so?”
Shannon recognized flirting when she saw it, and she suppressed her smile behind her coffee mug. “Totally so.”
He flipped open the folder and looked at the top page. “I have to do all this to apply for the job?”
“The school district is very thorough.”
“Fingerprints, wow.”
“We require them for parents coming on field trips too.” She shrugged. “You’re working with kids.”
He closed the folder. “I’ll get it done.” Grant swallowed and slid to the end of the booth as if he was going to leave already. “Hey, Shannon—uh, Miss Sharpe? Is there a policy about co-workers, um, bosses and employees, maybe, you know, dating?”
Shannon stared at him, at a loss for words for maybe the first time.
“I’ll look it up,” Grant said, grinning. He left her sitting there, even more attracted to him that he’d made the first move.
Chapter Four
Grant whistled as he went about his work, his thoughts revolving around the pretty blonde he’d met with that morning. He couldn’t believe she’d called Megan and asked for his number. Couldn’t believe Megan had given it to her. Couldn’t believe Shannon wanted him to be the elementary school’s summer program director.
At the same time, he thought it sounded like fun. He’d always liked kids—and he definitely wanted to get to know Shannon better. Right now, she pretty much scared him to death. The way she had every hair in place, jewels sparkling on her fingers, and all her rough edges polished.
Grant wondered how he could carry on a conversation with someone as sophisticated as her, and his stomach tightened. What would she think of his past failures? For sure she had never failed at anything. No, she was the type of woman who put her mind to something and made it happen.
Grant finished cleaning out the calf pens and headed outside. His phone rang, and he hoped for half a second that it would be Shannon.
But it was his sister, Jordan. At least it wasn’t Meredith. Both of his sisters lived in San Antonio, only miles from where they all grew up. They were both married, with several kids between them, and Grant was the baby brother—the black sheep—who’d broken ranks.
He thought briefly about telling her about Shannon, but decided against it. He swiped the call to voicemail and continued into the horse barn. He saddled Gwyneth and led her across the lane and into his yard. He threw the reins around a tree branch and went inside to get Bullseye.
He needed some time out in the open, away from the ranch, in order to find his center again. Everything had been thrown off since Friday when he’d come face-to-face with Shannon.
The bulldog jogged ahead of him and down the road while Grant swung himself onto Gwyneth’s back. He let the horse plod along, not pushing her toward any goal. She’d get him to the stream without any direction from him. Horses always did.
He let the sky swallow him and all his thoughts. He even forgot about Jordan until she called again.
“Hey Jordan,” he said. Maybe she just had something funny to say about their dad, who was getting kookier by the month.
“Grant,” she said. “Mom’s wondering if you’ll be coming home for the fireworks this year.”
Grant didn’t even bother to smother his groan. His mom couldn’t seem to figure out that there were fireworks all over the country on Independence Day.
“Oh, come on,” Jordan said. “You haven’t been home in three years for our family get-together.”
“I come at other times of the year,” he said. “Summer is really hard for me.” Going home at all was hard for him. He loved his nieces and nephews, but sometimes seeing his sisters and their families reminded him acutely of what he didn’t have.
And his mom asked so many questions, Grant always feared he’d end up slipping about his gambling problem. He hadn’t put any bets on games in years—since he’d come to Brush Creek—but the temptation was still there, ever-present.
He exhaled, wishing the sky could swallow this weak part of himself too.
“Just think about it,” Jordan said.
“Well, I’m running a summer school program this year, so I highly doubt I’ll have the time off,” he said.
“A summer school program?” The level of interest in Jordan’s voice sounded heavily in Grant’s ears.
“I mean, I don’t have the job yet. It’s just something I’ve been discussing with the principal.”
“What does he want you to do?”
Grant didn’t correct her incorrect pronoun and launched into the general concept of the program. By the time he hung up with his sister, Grant was eager to get home and get started on all those papers.
The job has been posted.
Grant saw Shannon’s text as he walked from the cattle chutes to the homestead for lunch the following week. She’d texted a lot over the past several days, and Grant had enjoyed their flirtatious banter, even if it wasn’t in person.
Every time he saw her name on the screen, his smiled. Every time she mentioned the job, his heart pumped harder. Every time she asked about Gwyneth and how he’d named his horse, he’d responded with None of your business.
He didn’t want to tell her that he’d alw
ays had a thing for blondes, and Gwyneth Paltrow was his favorite actress. He didn’t want to tell her about a lot of things, but the horse seemed to be at the forefront most days.
So I apply on the website?
Yes, please. Soon. I can interview as soon as someone applies.
I’ll do it right now. He bypassed the homestead, where everyone usually gathered on the front patio for lunch, and headed for his cabin across the lane.
Unfortunately, the school district’s website was less than user-friendly, and it took most of Grant’s lunch hour to get his application in. He fired off a quick It’s done as he hurried back across the street and into the horse barn, where he was slated to work with Justin that afternoon. He had a horse that was only a week or two away from being ready, and he needed all the practice he could get with cattle running from chutes and cowboys riding and roping from his back.
Grant moved down the aisle in the horse barn, stopping at each horse though he was already a bit late. The horses spoke to his soul the same way the soothing words of Pastor Peters did. Though they didn’t say anything in English, their calm spirits spoke to his.
He stopped outside the stall of one of Emmett’s horses, a tall, proud Friesian that had recently been bought by a cowgirl out of Montana. Emmett had been seen brooding around the barn, bathing Double Chocolate Latte and taking him out for rides in the evenings.
Grant understood the emotional connection between a cowboy and his horse, and he wasn’t sure how the other guys could work with a horse for so long and then sell it, let it go.
“You gonna win some championships?” Grant asked the horse, who looked proud and regal. “I bet you are.”
His phone buzzed and Shannon had said When can you come for an interview?
Grant honestly didn’t know. Landon kept a calendar in the office in the arena, but Grant lived it day by day. He knew what training his calves needed, and he worked with them every morning. His afternoons were spent working with horses, or cleaning out stalls, or helping with other ranch tasks. It was the only way he’d been able to convince Landon that he could be the summer program director and keep up with his work on the ranch.
“I’ll put in whatever hours it takes,” Grant had said. “Don’t reduce my tasks. I’ll work well into the evening.”
Because Landon had known of Grant’s interest in Shannon, he’d given his permission for Grant to apply for the job.
Not sure. Need to check the calendar.
Let me know.
Grant turned as if he’d go check right now, but Justin called “Grant, let’s go,” from behind him, and Grant had no choice but to go.
The next day, Grant pulled up to the elementary school again, the sight of it almost as soothing as walking through the horse barn. He entered the office and glanced at the secretary sitting there.
“Is Miss Sharpe in her office?”
“I’ll page her. She had something happen in the gym.” She picked up her phone and sent a message, adding, “You can go sit down, if you like.”
He tipped his hat and entered the office, the scent of Shannon overwhelming him and she wasn’t even present. He took a deep drag of the powdery-lotiony scent, moved behind the desk, and claimed her chair. He sighed as he stretched his arms above his head and looked out the wall of windows behind her desk.
He wondered if she ever took the time to enjoy the view from this chair, or if her tasks as the principal kept her running from dawn until dusk. He wondered if her life simply couldn’t mesh with his. After all, she was in-charge, powerful, educated, flitting from important task to important task.
Grant’s life was much simpler. He knew it, and he enjoyed it. Could Shannon ever understand that kind of life? Did she even want to?
“It’s premature anyway,” he said to himself, swinging around in the chair to find Shannon leaning one hip into the doorway, her arms folded across her chest, a grin the size of the Rocky Mountains on her face.
“What’s premature?” she asked, stepping into the office and closing the door behind her.
Chapter Five
Shannon sat on the other side of the desk—a whole new view for her. And she liked the view sitting in front of her. Grant leaned onto the desk, a ruddiness entering his face and making his black sideburns stand out.
“Nothing,” he said quickly. “Now, I heard you were down in the lunchroom. Throwing food again?” He wagged his finger at her like she was a naughty child. “We don’t do that here, you know.”
She burst into laughter. When she quieted, she said, “That’s what you think I do, isn’t it?”
A blank look crossed his face. “This isn’t what you do? Reprimand naughty children?”
“Not even close.” She thought of the budget reports, the supply money she needed, the first grade teacher who cried at the drop of a hat, the sixth grade teacher who couldn’t get along with her co-teacher, and the IEPs she had scheduled. Not to mention the scheduling for next year, the faculty meeting she’d be running tomorrow, the fact that the secretary was leaving at the end of the year, and that her whole fourth grade team was in open rebellion against the newly adopted math curriculum.
He grinned and stood. “Well, I really have no idea what you do, but one of those things is interviews, so we should probably do that.” He came around the desk and Shannon met him in the narrow walkway between the wall.
She paused and looked up at him, the charge between them very real and very hot. Surely he had to feel it too. Boldly, she touched his hand, squeezed his fingers, and continued past him. Heat rushed to her face now, and surely she looked like a cooked lobster with a blonde wig by the time she sat behind her desk and faced him again.
“This is more of a formality than anything,” she said. “But I’d love to ask you some questions.” The devilish side of her had all kinds of questions. Personal questions.
He swallowed, and guards flew into place in his expression. “Go ahead.”
“Past work experience?”
“I’ve been a cowboy on the ranch for three years,” he said. “Up there, I help with the farming, and I train the cattle that we then sell to the rodeo. They have to be trained how to come out of the chute, where to run, that kind of stuff.”
“Mm hm.” She didn’t look away from him. He had a strong jaw, and straight white teeth. Along with his full lips, Shannon found him downright attractive.
“Before that, I was—” He cleared his throat. “I wandered a bit after I quit the rodeo, which I did for about eight years.”
“Wandered? That sounds interesting.”
“It wasn’t that interesting.” He shifted in his seat, and for someone who spent all her time analyzing whether a young human was lying to her or not, she sensed something.
“You didn’t work during that time?” she asked.
“Didn’t need to.”
“But you do now?”
“Money runs out, and I wasn’t a champion.”
“No?”
He shook his head and pressed those lips into a line. She focused there, her thoughts only on kissing him. She yanked herself back to her job, her office, this interview.
“I mean, I won here and there. I made enough to support myself and to live for a year. Now I work at Brush Creek.”
She glanced down at the official paperwork she’d had her secretary compile. She had to make this look legit, after all. She’d read through it. She knew how old Grant was, that his birthday was coming up in September, even his middle name.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked.
Grant’s smile was instant and that tether between them pulled. “How is that related to the summer program?”
“Oh, it’s not.” Shannon smiled and picked up a pen. “I just want to know.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked.
“Not at the moment.” She loved this flirtatious banter, liked that Grant didn’t take everything so seriously. All the men she’d been dating for the past couple of years were so
proud of themselves, so into their careers.
“I was just wondering if Gwyneth is going to be a problem.” Shannon ducked her head and looked at Grant through her eyelashes.
He chuckled. “Why don’t you just ask what you want to ask?”
She lifted her chin. “All right then. Why did you name your horse Gwyneth Paltrow?”
He folded his arms. “I like blondes.”
Heat writhed through her bloodstream. “Are you still interested in Claire?” Shannon hadn’t said anything to her second grade teacher about Grant hanging around, but she should probably mention it if she was going to start dating Grant. And she wanted to start dating Grant. Maybe he was free this weekend.
Grant blinked furiously. “Claire?”
“She teaches second grade here? You dated her last fall.”
“Summer,” he corrected. “And no, I’m not interested in her.”
“Summer fling?”
“For her, apparently.” He glared back at her, most of the fun gone from the conversation.
“Just one more question then,” Shannon said.
“Shoot.”
“Are you free for dinner on Friday night?”
Later that evening, Shannon completed the hiring paperwork for Grant and clicked all the right buttons on the back end of the system to get the job filled. She leaned away from her computer desk in her office, one long sigh accompanying the movement.
Her shoulders ached, and her head pounded. She glanced at her phone, the screen as dark as her mood. Hannah hadn’t responded to her message. Shannon had known she wouldn’t. Still, she couldn’t help sending the text, and she’d almost called.
She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t her sister’s birthday. Maybe because the little blonde girl she’d seen skipping to the bus earlier that afternoon had reminded her so strongly of Hannah that Shannon couldn’t stop thinking about her.
They used to talk everyday, even if it was just a simple one-line text. Sometimes their conversations would last for a couple of hours in the evening while Shannon made dinner and tidied up the house.