Freight Trained

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Freight Trained Page 3

by Sarah Curtis


  He'd been staring at his boots but now, he looked up. "It's okay, I don't need a flashlight. Just gonna take a quick look around," he nodded his head to the open trap door, "then be on my way."

  Okay, she also knew what that was code for. She may be shy and socially awkward, but it didn't take a brain surgeon to read between the lines of that statement. He couldn't get the heck away from her fast enough. 'Nuff said. She retreated back into her shell. She'd actually started growing comfortable around Cole, had opened up a little, and had interacted more than her usual when meeting a new person.

  He did his thing in the attic, reporting he didn't see any critters up there, either, but stated it was possible it could be mice because he did see their droppings, he just didn't know how old it was.

  And through it all, she silently nodded, led him to the door, quietly thanked him for his time, then carefully shut the door behind him before leaning back against it, eyes closed, head bowed, strangely and utterly upset. How she could be devastated over something that never was, would forever remain a mystery to her, but that's how she felt, crushed. Crushed that the first man to catch her eye, the first man to give her tingles, the first man that made her want to burst out of her shell and explore the new and fascinating world of lust, didn't feel all those things back. Yeah, that was definitely crush worthy.

  Chapter Four

  Abby was a bundle of nerves. She had her first face-to-face meeting with the school principal in a few hours. While back in L.A., she'd had a phone interview with Principal Thomas, and the school board had hired her sight-unseen, but what if they hated her after they met her? Would they renege on their job offer? Could a person be fired before they started?

  She was working herself into a tizzy, and that was never a good thing. She needed to relax. She went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea. As she sipped, she looked around admiring her handy work, everything sparkled. She hadn't set one foot out of her house all day yesterday, not even into her own backyard (she would admit, only to herself, fear of running into Cole had spurred that decision) and had not only finished cleaning but had unpacked everything as well.

  As usual since the Cole incident, she felt her cheeks heat and her heart pound whenever thoughts of Cole entered her head, which unfortunately for the longevity of her heart, happened quite a lot. She must have reenacted their encounter at least a hundred times, tweaking and altering her actions until she did and said everything perfectly. So instead of walking away, leaving her alone with his embarrassing rejection, he falls to his knees, declaring his love, sweeping her off to live happily ever after.

  Abby snorted, almost choking on a mouthful of tea. Only in her dreams would something like that ever happen. She needed to stop dreaming and obsessing about Cole, get her head out of the clouds, and focus on real life issues. Speaking of which, she looked at the clock on the microwave, she needed to get ready for her interview.

  She rinsed out her teacup then headed to her bedroom to change into her teacher persona. She had a certain standard she maintained, pencil skirts no more than an inch above her knees, button up blouses, and stiletto heel, platform pumps. It was a boost to her confidence when she dressed in what she liked to call, adult clothes. She always wore her waist-length hair piled into a sophisticated twist that had taken her months to perfect and applied a light dusting of make-up—a little mascara, some shiny, lip-gloss, and two small dabs of perfume behind each ear. Embarrassingly enough, she'd even perfected her teacher face, so she could hide her shyness behind a veil of self-confidence.

  An hour later she walked out her front door, locking it behind her. She probably didn't need to do that here but if growing up in L.A. taught her anything, it was safety first. She started her car then stood outside, waiting for the air conditioner to cool the interior. The last thing she wanted was to arrive for her first meeting a sweaty mess.

  She wondered what the meeting would entail. Hopefully, they'd give her a guideline to follow. School started in less than two weeks, but that should be plenty of time for her to create some sort of study plan. Back in L.A., she'd taught mostly eighth-grade algebra, but because class sizes were so small here, the junior high and high school were merged, so she'd been hired on for a mixed bag of grades and math courses. Guess she'd need to brush up on her calculus.

  Ten minutes later, she pulled into a parking spot at the front of the school. She found the office with no problems, and a middle-aged woman behind the counter directed her to take a seat, saying the principal and director would be with her shortly.

  Abby sat through an uncomfortable five-minute wait, during which, she was scrutinized from head to toe several times by the lady behind the counter who was seemingly displeased by her appearance if her firmly pressed lips and narrowed eyes were any indication. Abby's ridged spine bowed farther with each passing minute, trying to curl within herself and hide. She pretended to be intrigued with her phone but was, in fact, stealing glances of the woman from under her lashes. She was at least twenty years Abby's senior with short, blond hair styled in a way that enhanced rather than detracted from the fullness of her cheeks and was dressed casually in a plain, blue T-shirt. Abby couldn't see the woman's bottom half, but assumed she wore a pair of blue jeans, and if that was the staff's usual dress code, she was ridiculously overdressed and explained the evil-eye she was currently receiving.

  "Ms. O'Neal?"

  Abby popped her head up. An attractive man with short, brown hair and a nice, even suntan stood in the now open doorway of what appeared to be a large office. She was also happy to note, he wore a well-tailored, dark-gray suit over a crisp, white shirt and dark multiprint tie, making her business attire seem less conspicuous.

  Abby stood, picking her attache case off the floor while slipping her phone into the front pocket. She pasted on a bright smile, but not before she darted her own evil-eye at Counter Woman for making her fret about her appearance then chanted her mantra you can do this in her head as she walked the length of the room.

  "It's so nice to officially meet you, Ms. O'Neal, I'm Dan Thomas. We've spoken a few times over the phone."

  Abby slipped her hand into his outstretched one. "Yes, of course, it's a pleasure to meet you, Principal Thomas."

  "None of that, now. Call me Dan. Come on, I've got Dick Peters, head of our school board, in my office, dying to meet you."

  He steered her into the office and sure enough, an older man—and by older she meant old—sat in a chair at the side of a large, wooden desk. He was mostly bald, but the little hair he did have was gray and stuck out at odd angles from the side of his head. His face was weathered, that was the only word she could think of to explain the leathery looking texture of his skin, but his eyes were a clear blue that sparkled with mischief.

  "Dick, this is Ms. O'Neal, our new math teacher."

  "Well, ain't you a pretty little filly. Come on over here, and let me get a better look at you."

  Abby quickly darted her eyes to Principal Thomas. A tight smile stretched his face. "Now, Dick, we've had this discussion before. You know you can't talk that way to female employees." Dan turned to Abby, his smile softening. "You'll have to excuse, Dick. He grew up in another era and doesn't realize there's such a thing as sexual harassment. I can promise you, he's completely harmless." He motioned to a chair on the opposite side of the desk from Dick. "Please have a seat. Let's get this meeting over with so you can move on with the rest of your day."

  Abby sat, making sure her knees were pressed tightly together and gave Mr. Peters a small smile that he returned with a jaunty finger wave. She quickly ducked her head so he wouldn't see her smile, thinking it best not to encourage his lecherous behavior.

  After making some polite small talk inquiring on her travels and settling into her new home, Mr. Thomas got down to bus
iness. "I know we briefly discussed your responsibilities on the phone, but I'd like to give you the curriculum, and the standards we expect the students to meet."

  Abby took the file Mr. Thomas handed her and flicked it open scanning the first few pages. Everything seemed pretty straightforward. "I'll look this over and have everything prepared before the start of school."

  A soft knock sounded at the door. Abby looked up and saw a petite brunette standing in the open doorway.

  "Ah, Maggie, perfect timing. We were just finishing up." Mr. Thomas turned his attention back to Abby. "Miss. McPherson runs the English department. Her classroom is next to yours, and I thought she could show you around."

  Abby stood and held out her hand.

  Maggie, all smiles and chestnut, bouncing curls around a pixie-like face, took her hand in a strong grip, shaking it vigorously. "Ooh, you're a tall one." She really wasn't. She was only five-five but in her heels, she did tower over Maggie's small frame. "I'm Maggie, it's so nice to meet you. You'd be surprised the number of old biddies at this school. It'll be awesome having someone more my age to chat and gossip with."

  Abby cut her eyes to Mr. Thomas, but he was all smiles. Between Mr. Peters and now Maggie, speaking one's mind must be par-for-the-course in Jasper Falls, and a social nightmare for her in the making. Pretty soon, all these over friendly people were going to catch on that she didn't fit in.

  Maggie continued talking not seeming in the least fazed that Abby had yet to say one word. "Come on. I'll take you to your classroom so you can look around then I'll give you a tour of the campus." Maggie placed a finger on her chin. "Can this place be considered a campus, I wonder?" She seemed to be asking herself the question, so Abby didn't volunteer her opinion that no, she didn't think it could.

  "Well, it doesn't matter." She waved her hand nonchalantly in the air. "Then after that, we can go out for lunch. I'm starved." Maggie grabbed Abby's arm and steered her out the door, calling over her shoulder as they left, "Catch you later, Dan, Mr. Peters. Don't worry, I'll take real good care of Abigail."

  Caught up in the whirlwind of Hurricane Maggie, Abby was too overcome to mention she'd left her bag behind. Oh well, she could grab it on their way to lunch. Oh, boy!

  Abby discovered the Chuck Wagon Cafe was as busy at lunchtime as it was in the mornings. Also, walking in beside Maggie, she was now included in the greetings shouted upon their arrival. She was also surprised to note how many people already knew her by name.

  Maggie waved excitedly to a group across the room, and Abby soon found herself dragged to an occupied table full of five equally excited women who all looked in their mid-twenties. Introductions were a blur as Maggie forcefully coaxed her into the booth, embarrassingly scrunching her against a woman who introduced herself as Jane.

  "So, tell us all about yourself, Abigail." This came from a perky blonde, sitting directly across the table from her.

  In the past, Abby had learned her shyness led others to think she was stuck-up or too good for them. She desperately didn't want to make that impression in her new home, so she swallowed her queasiness and spoke in a voice that she hoped was loud enough to compete with the din of the other patrons. "Please, call me Abby, and there's really not much to tell. I'm a pretty boring person."

  A glamorous redhead, sitting next to Perky Blonde chimed in. "Come now, you must have something to share with us. No need to be coy."

  Abby felt her back stiffen. Glamour Girl sat, twirling a curl on her finger, a small smirk on her face. Abby immediately decided she didn't like her. Now, she may be shy and uncomfortable around new people, but she was no pushover, and she would stand up for herself if someone tried to walk all over her.

  Just as she took a breath to speak, Maggie beat her to it. "Deb, stop being such a bitch. You're just pissy because you're no longer the prettiest girl at the table."

  Abby turned wide eyes to Maggie, opening her mouth but again, got beaten to the punch.

  "Are you kidding me right now?" Deb asked, in outrage.

  "Of course, I'm not kidding. I would never kid about your overinflated ego."

  "Well, I never!" Deb was shrieking at this point, and Abby wanted to crawl under the table as the whole room turned to stare in their direction.

  "That's not what I've heard." This was snorted by a cute brunette, sitting next to Jane.

  "Shut up, Ellen, you're just jealous." Angry was not a good look for Deb, Abby observed. Her face got red and blotchy, clashing terribly with her hair.

  "Hey," Ellen waved her left hand in the air, "Seems I'm the only one with a ring on my finger. I must be doing something right."

  "Yeah, settling," Deb sneered.

  "Ladies!" Maggie yelled, grabbing everyone's attention. "There's something much more important going on that needs our attention. Enough with the petty squabbling." When she had everyone's eyes, she continued, "Has anyone noticed that Cole Garrison hasn't taken his eyes off our little Abigail here since she's walked through the door? And I should know because I haven't taken my eyes off him!"

  Abby didn't even know Cole was there. She swung her eyes wildly around the room, and spied him in the far corner, tucked back in a booth. Several thoughts pinged through her head at once. First, Maggie was crazy. There's no way Cole had been staring at her. He'd made it pretty darn clear the last time she'd seen him that he'd wanted nothing to do with her. Next, she was surprised to realize, she hadn't known Cole's last name. This was her first time hearing it, and she rather liked it. He had a strong name, Cole Garrison, very manly. Which led to her last thought, even from a distance, he was an impressive sight. Enthralled, she watched as he selected a fry, dunking it in ketchup before raising it to his mouth, and popping it in. His jaw muscles flexed as he slowly chewed almost as if he were putting on a show.

  Abby's eyes flew up to his, and sure enough, his were boring into hers. She felt her face flame and quickly turned her head, returning her attention to the girls at the table. "You're crazy, Maggie." Abby spoke her first thought. "The whole restaurant is staring at us, not just Cole."

  Maggie leaned in closer. "I said, he's been staring since you've first walked in, not when Deb started her caterwauling."

  Abby heard a snort from Deb but refrained from looking her direction. "I still think you're imagining things."

  "Girl, I like to imagine many things, most of them centered around Coleman Garrison, but this, I'm not imagining."

  "Maggie get real. He's been living in this town for three years and hasn't gone out with any one of us." Abby's ears perked up at Deb's bit of gossip. "I think he's gay." That was said in a stage whisper.

  Jane chuckled, speaking up for the first time. "Just because he hasn't crawled all over you, doesn't make him a homosexual, Deb. It just means he has good taste and doesn't like sloppy seconds... or would that be thirds? Fourths?" The table erupted in laughter.

  "From what I've read, he was a total manho back in his rodeo days." This was said by Liz, the perky blonde. "Haven't you all ever Googled him? I have, and in every picture he's got a different woman on his arm."

  "Some men grow up. Stop playing the field." This was said by Jane. She seemed the voice of reason for the group.

  "Pete said he saw him at Dusty's a few month back. Had some blonde bimbo crawling all over him."

  Maggie whispered in Abby's ear. "Pete is Cyndi's on-again-off-again boyfriend. They're off at the moment."

  Abby nodded, noting Cyndi as the name of the one who'd just spoken. She was a little chubby but carried it well, had a pretty face, and ash-blonde, pin straight hair cut into a short bob.

  "So I guess it's safe to say, he's not gay. Right, Deb?" Maggie asked, with a smirk. "And I guess it's also safe to say, he's in
terested in Abby." This was said in what Abby could only describe as a teasing coo.

  Thankfully, their waitress appeared, halting all conversation. "You ladies ready to order?"

  "I'll have the patty melt with onion rings and a large diet soda," Maggie said, not missing a beat.

  The waitress looked at Abby. "And you?"

  "I'll just have an iced tea, please." Note to self, talk of Cole added with the big, fat butterflies his nearness created in her stomach apparently causes a loss of appetite.

  The waitress nodded, walking away, and Maggie turned her attention to Abby. "Aren't you hungry?"

  Abby peeked Cole's direction. He was still staring. She shook her head. "I had a big breakfast, I'm still full from that."

  Maggie seemed to accept that answer, and the girls went back to babbling and bickering. Abby tuned them out, instead placing all her concentration on the sugar packet she mutilated with her fingers, and not the sexy guy in the corner booth. She'd been largely successful in her distraction technique until she heard the deep voice she'd committed to memory drawl, "Ladies."

  Startled, Abby whipped her head up. Their eyes locked for a few beats before he tipped his hat to the table and turned to walk out. The table fell silent as they watched his departure from the restaurant.

  Maggie fanned herself with her hand. "Woowee, that man has one nice ass."

  Abby silently agreed. Too bad she was always watching it walk away.

  Chapter Five

  What the heck was she doing? Well, she knew what she was doing, she was sitting in her car in front of Cole's ranch. The question was why. Well, actually, she knew the answer to that, too. Ever since yesterday, when Maggie had said Cole was interested in her, she couldn't get that small kernel of thought out of her head. And like a seed usually will, it took root, growing into the fantasy of Cole wanting Abby. Foolish she knew, but then, most fantasies usually were.

 

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