“We have that in common.”
“So?” Jane studied her face, her expression hopeful but resigned to whatever Hannah might say. She’d obviously put thought and prayer into this petition.
So had Hannah. She leaned forward and grasped Jane’s hand. “Yes.”
Jane’s features softened, a layer of worry removed. She squeezed Hannah’s hand, her grip strengthened by hope. “Thank you.”
Helen’s voice interrupted the moment. “You asked her?”
“She did. I assured her you were both crazy. I’m a librarian now.” Hannah gave Jane’s hand a reassuring squeeze, letting her in on the joke.
“A librarian with a master’s degree in biology and education,” Helen retorted as she moved into the room. “Three Ironwood Central School Teacher of the Year awards and three nominations to the President’s Award for Academic Excellence in Math and Science, two of which you won.” She grasped Hannah’s free hand and squeezed, imploring. “I wouldn’t ask if the need weren’t so great. Will you consider stepping in, taking over Jane’s classes? Please?”
“Helen.” Jane’s deep tone drew Helen’s attention.
“Yes?” Helen faced Jane, her concern evident. Jane nodded toward Hannah and smiled. “She’s already said yes. Stop annoying her.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Hannah met Helen’s gaze, amused. “Since seeing Helen beg is a rare occurrence, I’m noting the day and time in my PDA.” She paused, all kidding aside, and swept both women a look. “The better question is, can I do this?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you can.” Helen’s agreement sounded more vigorous than Jane’s for various reasons. First, she’d never had to deal with a room full of hormone-stricken teenagers.
Helen thought everyone was invincible. Hannah had proven that wrong once, did she have what it took to try it again?
“God gifted you with a rare talent, Hannah Moore.” Helen drew up a chair alongside Hannah and set her small purse down on the bed. “Don’t allow evil to steal that gift or shroud that light under a bushel.”
“What do we need to do?”
“The board needs a copy of your application, transcripts and the letters of recommendation you used when applying for the library job. Luckily I already have that.”
Hannah wasn’t surprised. This was Jeff’s grandmother, after all.
“I’ve already downloaded your information into the database,” Helen went on. “So all you need to do is fill out the forms attached to the email I’m about to send you and we’ll proceed from there.”
“You’ve begun the process already?”
Helen didn’t even try to act embarrassed. “Weeks ago, when I saw you sparring with my grandson at our initial meeting.”
“It’s not hard to see where he gets his driven personality from,” Hannah noted, her wry tone spurring Jane’s smile.
A nurse stepped in, gestured to the clock and said, “Five minutes. She needs to rest.”
“‘Plenty of time for that in the grave,’” Jane barked. Hannah stood and laid a calming hand on her shoulder.
“Benjamin Franklin,” she noted. She gave Jane’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I love that quote. It’s one of my favorites.”
“Mine, too.” Helen rose, walked around the foot of the bed and leaned down to hug her friend. “We’ll go straighten out the details. You work on getting better.”
“Helen.”
“Don’t throw in that towel without a fight, Jane.”
Jane sighed. “I’ve been fighting, Helen. Maybe it’s time…”
“See what they say in Buffalo, okay?” Helen turned toward Hannah again. “They’re sending her up to Roswell for an evaluation. If they say there’s no hope…” She shifted her gaze back to Jane. “Then we’ll talk. But until then, we fight.”
“We?”
Helen laughed, hugged her again and shrugged a shoulder toward Hannah. “I helped with this, didn’t I?”
Jane yawned and smiled, fatigue weighting her eyes. “You did.”
“Well, then.”
Hannah studied Helen as Jane’s eyes drifted closed. The stark worry was apparent, but when Helen pivoted, her features were calm, business as usual. “How soon do you think you can have that paperwork filled out?”
“This afternoon.”
Helen’s smile made Hannah feel ten feet tall, but the fear nagging her gut made her wonder what she was doing. She could have said no with no hard feelings on either side. She knew that. But she had to say yes, uncertain if that was conscience or God-willed or a combination of the two. In any case, Hannah Moore was about to retake her place at the front of a classroom, and hopefully wouldn’t lose her breakfast doing it.
You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine, you’ll be fine….
Whatever strings Helen pulled to put Hannah in front of the classroom Monday morning were quite impressive, but then this was Helen Walker they were talking about. Hannah approached the school bright and early. Her cell phone rang as she climbed the steps. She saw Jeff’s number and answered quickly. “It wouldn’t take much to talk me out of this right now, so if that’s what you’re hoping, now’s your chance.”
He laughed, which was the best reassurance she could ask for. “Not on your life, I called to encourage you and tell you I’m thinking of you. Got your lunch?”
“Right here.”
“And your pencils are all sharpened?”
“Yes, Mom.”
He laughed again. “I just wanted you to know I’m praying for you. Thinking of you. Caring about you.”
Her heart swelled to impossible proportions. His tender words pushed her to succeed. “Thank you, Jeff. Oops, gotta go. Even teachers aren’t supposed to use cell phones in the school.”
“A rule that gets broken regularly, I expect. Have a good day, Hannah.”
“I will. You, too.”
She walked through the doors and nodded to the security guard seated to the left. Hannah wondered what it would have been like to teach a few decades ago, when the idea of school security was a vice principal. Now teams of former sheriffs and police patrolled district schools, and even with all that, assaults happened.
“Hannah?” A woman stepped forward, tall and solid, her short, crisp haircut framing a strong but kindly face. “I’m Laura Henning, the principal.”
“Nice to meet you.” Hannah accepted Laura’s hand and hoped the older woman couldn’t feel her thrumming pulse. She looked around. “It’s a beautiful school.”
“And a little scary right now, I’d expect.”
“Downright terrorizing, but I made it this far.” Hannah gave the entry a look as they moved to the stairs. “And not to belabor a bad thing, can you give me a mental sketch of security? It helps me preplan a course of action.”
“Did you learn that in therapy?” Laura asked as they climbed the wide stairway.
“Nope. In fourth grade during fire safety week. I always scout out my options in the light of day so my brain can kick in as needed.”
“That’s remarkable.”
Hannah sent her a small smile. “It gets the job done. And it helped at Ironwood, because I always have a plan of action in the back of my mind.”
Laura nodded, turned left and headed down a hall. “I’ll have one emailed to you as soon as I’m back in my office. You have a computer here on your table, a printer alongside, and you’re one of only two computer stations with full access to the internet. Most stations have limited access, but Jane was given a reprieve because of the research nature of her methods.”
“Wonderful.”
She thought she’d hate stepping into the classroom, thought she’d go a little crazy inside, but she loved it. It felt like coming home. The science room was cluttered enough to be user-friendly, the walls covered with great quotes, equations and thoughtful insights Jane commandeered for motivation.
“Give me a call if you need anything.” Laura passed along her direct access c
ode to Hannah. “We have security checkpoints on each floor, but there’s been little need for them. Still…”
Hannah nodded, understanding. “You never know.”
“Exactly. Here is your schedule. I’m having Rose Tomer assist for the first few days. She knows the kids and might be able to defuse any situations that come along.”
“A babysitter?” Hannah tipped her head slightly, one brow up, facing Laura directly.
“A facilitator,” Laura replied, meeting Hannah’s look with frank honesty. “One of these little darlings is going to look you up, see who you are and start asking questions.”
Hannah’s heart dropped to somewhere in the vicinity of her left foot.
“Rose’s presence allows you the option to step away if necessary. And maybe I’m wrong, maybe it won’t happen—”
Hannah waved her off as she settled things into her desk. “Oh, it will. I’ve been working with kids long enough to know that. Having Rose here gives me leverage. Thank you.”
Her calm acceptance eased Laura’s features. She nodded, then backed toward the door. “Remember, if you need anything…”
Hannah held up the slip of paper with her code. “I’m covered.”
“All right.”
Once Laura left, Hannah breathed a sigh. The rumble of buses drew her attention to the window, the winding Genesee River a beautiful sight as the sun’s rays pinked the hilltops beyond.
Ready or not, here they come.
Jeff’s car idled alongside hers when she came out of school at five-fifteen. He climbed out and came toward her, his expression wondering until she stepped beneath a parking lot light. He took one look at her face and relaxed into a smile. “It went well.”
“Very well.” Hannah hunted for words to express her feelings, then settled for a shrug. “I was fine.”
“One of us isn’t surprised.” Jeff pulled her in for a hug. The feeling of being in his arms warmed her despite the cold, bleak afternoon. “Congratulations, Hannah.”
She stepped back, trying to remain objective. “It was just one day. I taught long enough to know that’s not necessarily indicative of success, but…” She smiled and slanted her gaze up to his. “It felt great.”
“Good.” He grasped her shoulders and jerked his chin toward their cars. “Can I buy you supper?”
“Don’t I wish.” She held up her bag as proof. “Lesson planning. I stayed late to get an idea of where Jane was going, but if I’m doing this, I’m doing it right. I’ll be lesson planning for this week’s classes tonight, then for the month over the weekend.”
“But you need to eat.”
She nodded. “I ordered a sub from the deli. Tomorrow night, tuna. Wednesday, who knows? But we could get together before the meeting on Thursday. How does that sound?”
He sent her an exaggerated frown. “Like life just got lonelier on me.”
She grinned, poked his shoulder and headed for her car. “Presidential science awards come with a price tag, my friend.”
“I see that. But you know what else I see?”
Hannah turned, Jeff’s warm smile a blanket of comfort in the dull, gray cold. “What?”
“The woman you were born to be.” He reached out, tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear and let his hand linger along the side of her face, his tender smile approving. “And it’s wonderful, Hannah.”
Hannah glanced around, sighed and smiled, amazed and satisfied, unable to disagree. “It sure is.”
“Knock it off, guys,” Hannah scolded a group of girls in a first-floor hallway the next day. “Does what Chrissie said to Amelia really matter in the worldwide scheme of things to care about?”
Two of the girls flushed. A third rolled her eyes, her expression saying Hannah was out of touch. Hannah sent the fourth girl a knowing look. “And lose the cell phone. You know you’re not supposed to have it out during the day.”
“But…”
Hannah arched a brow, glanced at her wrist to show she hated wasting time and tapped her foot.
“Sorry, Miss Moore.”
“Thank you, Angie. And for your information, ladies—” she leaned in, inviting their confidence “—I think Chrissie’s wrong. Randy Lessman is that cute. Totally.”
Angie blushed while the other girls laughed. Hannah was glad to see some things never changed. As she rounded the corner to the teacher’s lounge, a young man stepped in front of her, angling left while she turned right. She stopped short of bumping into him, then smiled and put a hand on his arm. “Dominic, right?”
“Hey.” He nodded, not smiling but looking pleased to meet her. “You work here now, too?”
“I’m Miss Dinsmore’s long-term sub. Are you taking science this year?”
“AP Physics.”
Hannah paused, surprised. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“That’s a hefty load. Do you like physics?”
“Hate it.”
She gave him a sympathetic look. “Then why take it?”
He shrugged. “I’m smart. My dad is a physics professor at Alfred University.”
“A chip off the old block, huh?”
The vehement shake of his head came quicker than Hannah would have liked. “No.”
“Then just be yourself, Dominic,” Hannah advised. “If you’re good at science, it’s an easy A for you, but it’s okay to follow your own path.”
“You don’t know my father.”
“True enough. Hey, if you ever want to talk or go over science stuff, I’m here after school.” Dominic’s lost-puppy demeanor tugged at Hannah’s heart. “And the science team is prepping for the Christmas contest. Have you ever thought of joining us?”
“No.” He paused, a mix of regret and angst painting his features. “I don’t have time for that stuff.”
“Well, if you find time, come see me,” Hannah told him, remembering the bereft look she’d seen at their first meeting in the candy store. “We’re weak in physics and could use your help. Of course, understanding the physical properties driving molecular biology would be a huge help….”
His brightened expression said she’d dangled good bait. “I’m doing a paper on processes for interrupting or diverting proteins to block the spread of cancer.”
“Wonderful.” Hannah put a gentle hand on his arm. He didn’t flinch, a good sign. “Come find me anytime. Maybe we can solve the world’s problems together.”
She laid the phrase lightly, telling the boy she’d help if she could, but not enough to make him feel targeted. “Maybe.”
“Good enough.”
He headed down the hall, head bowed, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, the abject picture of a singular young man.
“Problems?”
Hannah turned and found Laura approaching her. “No. Just a conversation with a kid.”
Laura followed the direction of Hannah’s gaze, pursed her lips and sighed. “Rough situation. Mother died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound when he was seven. He’s brilliant, introverted, hates his stepmother and has been in therapy for as long as I’ve known the family. They moved here when he was eleven, thought it might help him to be in a new place.”
Hannah thought of the interaction she’d witnessed between the stepmother and the boy. A change of setting that didn’t address the verbal abuse of a sensitive kid wouldn’t accomplish much. “I invited him to sit in on the science team practices.”
“So did Jane. He refused.”
Hannah shrugged. “Well, the invitation’s been issued again. We’ll see.”
“Everything’s going okay?”
Laura’s cautious note said she was willing to let Hannah find her way. The fact that she’d found it so easy delighted Hannah. “Wonderful, actually. The thought of coming back intimidated me far more than the reality. I’m having the time of my life.”
“That’s what Rose said.” Laura met Hannah’s look. “She told me you’re a marvel and the kids are eating out of your hand.”
Hannah laughed. “Her assessment’s a mite generous, but we’re having fun and they’re learning. It’s all good.”
“Glad to hear it. And now I must go convince Mr. Bernard to stop haranguing the staff for overuse of paper towels in the ladies’ rooms.”
“Good luck with that.”
Laura smiled. “Thanks. I’ll need it. And Hannah?”
“Yes?”
“Good job.”
Hannah smiled, the heartfelt praise a blessing. “Thank you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Jeff did an internet search for Cavanaugh Construction Thursday morning. Several entries popped up, along with a few current images. Jeff couldn’t miss Matt’s tough gaze or firm expression, but they were balanced by fairness in his eyes, a welcome new addition. He punched Matt’s number into his cell phone, determined. He’d scoured the Nunda area on Friday night, but came up with nothing. One way or another, he needed to see Matt. Talk with him face-to-face. Settle old wrongs.
Matt answered with no preamble. “What’s up, Jeff?”
His quick tone tweaked Jeff, but that wasn’t Matt’s fault. “I need to see you.”
“Why?”
“Nothing I can go into over the phone. Where are you?”
Matt didn’t answer the question. Instead he said, “Your house. Fifteen minutes.”
Jeff stood and headed for the door. “I’m on my way.”
He pulled into his driveway and parked alongside Matt’s black truck, wondering what to say. As he reached to open his car door, he glanced heavenward. “I could use guidance here. And maybe a clue about when to talk and when to shut up.”
He climbed out of the car, motioned Matt to come in and opened the front door, the home’s warmth a welcome reprieve from a sharp wind. Matt strode in behind him, eyed the door, then Jeff. “A heavier grade storm door will block that wind and keep the house warmer.”
Jeff grimaced. “I actually know that. Just haven’t gotten to it yet.”
Matt angled him a look and folded his arms. “And you’ve lived here how long?”
“Eight years.”
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