Winds of Change: A Sweet, Inspirational, Small Town, Romantic Suspense Series (Heart Lake Book 1)

by Jo Grafford

  He nodded, looking puzzled.

  “And if I hit the floor too hard, call an ambulance.”

  This time, he glanced down at her sneakers, understanding she was about to go off script. His hand reached out to cup her elbow. “Whatever you have planned…” he hissed. He had one of those leathery, bronze faces that was hard to read. It was equally hard to determine his age, though she suspected he was only a few years older than her and Josh. Regardless, there was no mistaking the concern in his body language.

  “I need you to trust me on this. Just back me up.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.” Her assistant principal dropped his hand, his face settling back into its usual stoic lines.

  She nodded across the stage at Chuck, who was turned in her direction awaiting her signal. He launched into the opening notes of the NFL Prime Time theme song. Shrugging off her blazer and dropping her suit skirt, she let them fall atop her discarded heels and kicked them out of Principal Lighthorse’s way, so he wouldn’t trip on them. Underneath her business suit, she was wearing her old high school cheerleading outfit. It was a little faded after ten years of non-use, but it still fit. That was most the important thing.

  Hope proceeded to jog and jive her way across the stage and down the stairs. It took an extra second or two before her audience realized what was going on. When they did, their cheering was deafening. Behind her on the big screen flashed scenes of everything that made Heart Lake, well…Heart Lake.

  She had video clips strung together of farmers on tractors, herdsmen with lassoes flying, Josh Hawling being jerked and yanked within an inch of his life on the back of a snorting bull, last year’s rodeo queen careening around barrels on the back of her horse, electricians hanging and waving from their lines, and so on.

  The cheerleading team instantly parted to make room for Hope in their midst. She took the center spot as they broke into a contemporary dance sequence. Their routine finished setting the energy level in the gym on fire. Even a bunch of the teachers were getting into the spirit of things.

  Hope’s gaze briefly landed on the oldest teacher in their school district, Dr. Milton Schotzkommer, chairman of the Science Department. By the way he was shaking his head at her, she couldn’t tell if he approved of what she was doing or not. A moment later, her heart squeezed when he took out a white handkerchief and wiped his eyes. Her gut told her that, although he might not fully approve of her antics with the cheerleaders, he understood what she was trying to do and applauded her efforts. She was so moved by his emotion that she missed a step.

  The cheer team captain to her right did a stutter step to compensate for Hope’s mistake. Then she bent to cup her hands and give Hope a leg up.

  “You’ve got this, ma’am,” she shouted as she proudly boosted her head principal onto the shoulders of the two girls planted in the center of their formation. The team chanted a countdown while the two girls spun Hope around, then tossed her into the waiting arms of two cheerleaders serving as bases.

  The team cycled through a rapid routine of cartwheels, backflips, and rolls. Then they converged in the center of the gym once more, this time to form a pyramid. They swiftly popped girls atop the shoulders of other girls to form two long layers of the pyramid.

  The music crescendoed again, and this time Hope did a triple backflip, landed in front of the pyramid, and was vaulted by several bases to the top of the stack. Though she hadn’t done much cheering lately, years of discipline as an athlete and rodeo rider kicked back in as naturally as breathing. Her lithe and agile figure proved it was still up to the task. On the final beat of the song, she pulled her left leg up behind her head in a perfect scorpion.

  The band rocked out the final notes of their fight song. Then the cheerleaders hopped carefully down in practiced sequence from their pyramid, sliding into their final positions and freezing in place as the song ended.

  All of them were heaving from exertion, but they were smiling like maniacs. Their performance had been extraordinary, and they knew it. As their audience erupted into more shrieking and clapping, the girls huddled around Hope, dancing up and down, wildly waving their pompons.

  But that wasn’t quite all. Principal Lighthorse inclined his head toward the microphone. “Let’s cheer our team on tomorrow night, folks,” he shouted. “Six o’clock at James Remington Stadium.” At his words, the football players came roaring onto the gym floor from both sides of the room. They formed two long, straight lines in front of the bleachers, proudly sporting their white HTHS jerseys over their jeans. Several were making rally signs in the air with their fists. Then the double entrance doors flew open, and one more senior student strutted in.

  It was Dylan Conner, a kid Hope had discovered was serving as a K9 apprentice at the sheriff’s office downtown. She beamed a smile at him as he danced farther into the room in a borrowed police department uniform shirt. He’d paired it with jeans, boots, and a Stetson, just like the local members of the PD usually did. The pièce de résistance, however, was the wriggling, writhing chocolate labrador retriever he’d stuffed inside a K9 dog vest. Conner led his pet forward on a leash. The dog’s tail was wagging so wildly, it was a wonder he didn’t wag it right off.

  Dylan approached the huddle of cheerleaders, pivoted to face their audience, lowered his aviator glasses, and spread his hands. His dog took a seat on his haunches at his feet.

  In unison, the cheerleaders, marching band members, and football players shouted, “Heart Lake Heroes!”

  That was the end of their show. Hope had timed the rally to end only seconds before the final bell of the day rang. Teachers spread across the gym floor, waving the students out of the room to their awaiting buses.

  Chapter 8: Old Rivalries

  Josh

  Josh was cheering as loudly as the students by the time the spirit rally ratcheted to its grand finale and drew to a close.

  Even Principal Lighthorse was grinning, a rare occurrence, indeed. Josh wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen the guy smile before. They stepped closer to slap each other on the back.

  "Well.” The Native man raised his brows. “Dr. Remington sure knows how to get stuff done.” He turned to watch the students pouring out of the gym. “The kids will be talking about this rally for days. Probably weeks.”

  Josh nodded. “I know there are many more battles ahead, but it’s starting to feel like we have a shot at winning the war.”

  “It does.” Principal Lighthorse folded his arms. “Even so, she’s smart not to take any chances. I’m assuming you’ve seen the memo she sent out earlier?”

  “Yep. I was planning on going, anyway,” he joked, not that it was an option since he and Deck served as coaches. Hope was requiring every staff member without a medical or religious excuse to be at the football stadium tomorrow evening.

  “Me, too. Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I have a nephew on the team.” Principal Lighthorse reached up to loosen his tie and undo the top button of his shirt. “My sister would string me up if I didn’t show.”

  Though Josh nodded, he had to choke down a golf ball sized stab of envy. Must be nice to have a sister. Or any family, for that matter. He couldn’t wait to marry Hope and finally belong to someone again — legally and otherwise. While some guys complained about balls and chains, he couldn’t wait to be tied at the heartstrings to the love of his life.

  Speaking of which, he watched his woman greet students and teachers alike on the gym floor. She was truly phenomenal. If he’d ever had his doubts — and he had — about Elmer Remington hiring someone relatively inexperienced, his opinions had done a complete about-face on the subject. Hope was the right person for the job. Anyone who couldn’t see that was either jealous of her many accomplishments or as blind as a bat. Striding down the stairs to join her and do his usual hovering, he was surprised to feel a feminine hand land atop his arm, stalling his progress.

  “Josh!” It was Daisy Peterson. “Just wanted to invite you to the pre-game show tomorrow.” She giggled
and curled two fingers in the air to form quotes about the words pregame show. “It’s at the Crooked Cowboy.”

  “Thanks for the invite.” He inwardly grimaced at the fact that she considered it even remotely professional to gather at a bar before a student event.

  “No problem. I’ll see you there.” With a merry wink, she continued across the room to join a group of her teacher friends. But not before he caught a curious sideways glance between her and one of the football players, Ty Remington. The captain of the team, no less. He mentally reviewed what he knew about them, trying to establish a connection. Ty’s father was a commercial building contractor, whereas both of Daisy’s parents were attorneys. Both were affluent, uptown families, who’d lived on the north side of town for decades. Maybe their families were simply friends. Regardless, he tucked their exchange into his memory. The situation would bear watching.

  Another thing he considered worth watching was the sudden appearance of braided rope bracelets around the school. By his best estimation, they’d shown up mid week. The only reason he’d even noticed them was because they seemed to represent old and new school colors. The traditional north side school colors had been red and white; whereas the south side colors had been blue and white. Due to funding concerns, Hope was trying to keep all three colors in play for the time being — red, blue, and white. It would cost too many thousands of dollars to try to replace everything at once, from band uniforms, to football jerseys, to cheerleading outfits, and more.

  Interestingly enough, the bracelets being worn were mostly solid red and solid blue, though Josh had seen a few whites thrown in here and there. It might be nothing. Then again, it might be something. He planned to bring the matter to Hope’s attention at the next earliest opportunity. As he idly watched Daisy Peterson and her friends leave the gym, it suddenly dawned on him that they, too, were wearing the braided bracelets. Red ones, all three of them.

  His inner warning flags went on full alert. Yeah, there was probably something to those bracelets, after all. Might not hurt to have a chat with Sheriff Remington to get his ten cents’ worth on the issue.

  Hope brushed past him, all aglow with how well the rally had gone. “I’m going to grab my things, and we can head back.”

  He watched in supreme amusement as she jogged back on stage to gather her speaker’s notes and discarded shoes and clothing. When she skipped back down the stairs with them in her arms, he motioned for her to hand something over.

  She shoved her speaker’s notes into his hands. “Probably not a good idea to have a red suit draped over one arm and high heels dangling from your fingers,” she teased.

  He shook his head at her. “That was quite a show you put on back there.”

  She cast a mischievous look up at him. “You don’t look mad.”

  “Should I be?”

  She shrugged. “Wasn’t sure how many people were going to freak out about the physical risks I took or the sacrifice of my dignity. No doubt I broke a thousand rules of etiquette for school principals.”

  He leaned closer. “You’ll never hear me complain about the sight of you in a cheerleading outfit.”

  She shot him a look of pure wickedness. “Private meeting in five? My office?”

  He grimaced. “I can do everything but the private part, unfortunately. We need to get the sheriff on the phone about something, babe.”

  She scanned his features, looking more concerned than disappointed. “Okay.”

  He followed her into the main office where Laura was packing her things for the day, preparing to head home. “Omigosh, Dr. Remington!” she gushed. “You look so amazing in that outfit. I can tell I missed an incredible rally.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hope returned gently. “We had a member of the student council record it, though. I promise you’ll get to see a re-run.”

  The wistfulness in Laura’s round features faded. Nodding, she smoothed a hand over her navy tunic. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  Hope walked her fingers down the receptionist’s cabinet as she moved toward her office. “Thank you for holding down the office while we were away.”

  Laura’s smile produced a dimple in her chin. “Somebody had to. Don’t worry. I really don’t mind. Those events get way too loud for my poor, sensitive ears.”

  “Even so.” Hope sobered. “I never stop appreciating what you do every day up here on the front lines.”

  Laura chuckled. “Just throw me a donut now and then, and my job satisfaction will remain sky high.” She slung a beach bag over her shoulder that was stuffed with all sorts of odds and ends. “Tootles, everyone.” With one last flutter of her fingers, she headed out the door to start her weekend.

  Josh reached around Hope to hold open the door to her office. After a quick glance behind them to ensure the coast was clear, he quietly closed the door. Reaching for her before she could step too far away, he tugged her against his chest and sealed his mouth over hers.

  He allowed himself one deeply satisfying kiss before letting her go. There was only so much willpower a guy had, and seeing his super gorgeous, super hot fiancée in a cheerleading skirt more than pushed the boundaries of that willpower.

  “I thought you said there was no time for a private meeting,” she teased, giving him such an adoring look that he leaned in for another quick peck.

  “Nope. I had to pencil that one into the outermost margins of the ol’ calendar.” He propped her office door back open and strode across the room. Putting her phone on speaker, he started dialing.

  To his relief, the sheriff was in the station. His office manager, Fran, was able to patch his call through right away.

  “Sheriff Remington speaking.” The older gentleman’s voice boomed across the speaker, filling Hope’s office.

  “Josh Hawling and Dr. Hope Remington here,” Josh returned, kissing her again with his eyes as she took a seat. He hiked a hip on the edge of her desk and leaned closer to the phone.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing from you two younguns?”

  “We’d like your professional opinion on something.”

  “I didn’t expect it was a social call, so shoot.”

  “Our school seems to be filling up with braided bracelets. Mostly red and blue ones, plus a few whites.”

  “A mix of north and south side school colors,” the sheriff mused. “Interesting. I take it they’re not being sold as part of a sanctioned fundraiser?”

  “Not by the PTA, student council, football team, marching band, or cheerleaders. I checked.”

  “Any theories on your end?”

  His jaw tightening in concern, Josh caught Hope’s eye before responding. “I know it’s not something we’ve ever had much trouble with in our county, but my concern is gang activity.”

  Hope’s brows shot up in alarm

  “I was worried you were going to say that,” the sheriff sighed. “Is there anything else pointing in that direction besides your gut? And the bracelets, of course. Like a rise in the number of fights at school, that sort of thing.”

  “Not yet, but rest assured I’ll be on the lookout for it.” The student body was still pretty segmented among north and south lines, so there was the clear potential for gang activity. However, if any extra fights had taken place, they’d happened off campus.

  “I genuinely hope it’s a false alarm.” The sheriff cleared his throat. “I know it’s early in the school year and you have a lot on your plate right now, but it might not be a bad idea to go ahead and schedule our first patrol through the halls with our K9s.”

  “Hope?” Josh lifted his chin, knowing the decision needed to be hers.

  “What do you recommend?” she asked simply.

  “I say yes.”

  “Then I second it.”

  “I can have my team there Tuesday morning. Just name the time.”

  Again, Josh looked at Hope.

  “Nine o’clock,” she supplied. “They’ll be finished with homeroom by then and seated in their secon
d period classes.”

  “Sounds like a plan. We’ll be there.” The sheriff asked a few more questions about logistics, then ended the call.

  Hope leaned back in her chair, pursing her lips and looking troubled. “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked softly.

  Josh deliberated for a few seconds. “The only way I can tell you more is if you’re sworn to secrecy.”

  She raised her pinky.

  He reached out to intertwine his small finger with hers. “Dylan Conner has been serving as a police informant since the previous school year.”

  “You mean the guy serving as our new Heroes mascot?” she squeaked.

  “Yes. That guy.” Josh reluctantly relinquished her hand. “He’s been interning as a K9 handler at the station while also serving as the PD’s eyes and ears here on campus. According to Lincoln, he provided information that led to the arrest of two drug dealers. They were peddling their wares from the back of an RV to a few of my football players.” It was proof there were drugs circulating through the high school.

  “Ouch!” Hope leaned forward to clasp her hands on the top of her desk. “I’m beginning to see the problem with those red and blue bracelets.”

  “The presence of drugs changes everything, doesn’t it?” Though they had no proof yet, all too often gangs and drugs went hand in hand.

  “Unfortunately.” Her voice was bleak. “We’ll have to be on our guard every minute of every day.”

  “We will.” Josh made a mental note to check in with his business partner to see if any more guards could be spared during tomorrow’s opening game. He wouldn’t mind having at least a few more sets of eyes, ensuring Hope’s safety.

  The thump of parade drums and the shrill blast of trumpets greeted Josh as he strode from the locker room onto the field of the James Remington Stadium. The Heart Lake High marching band was already in full swing in the stands, leading their classmates in a few preliminary spirit songs.