“Isn’t the school board meeting this week?” Jim asked.
“No,” Annabeth assured him. “Not yet.” She smiled. She had a few more weeks to worry over a job she couldn’t afford to lose—especially not with twins on the way. Annabeth turned right as a piece of fruit cocktail flew across the cafeteria. “That’s my call.”
“Go get ’em,” Carol called after her.
Annabeth made her way to the kindergarten table. She arched her discipline eyebrow and waited. At this age, all it took was a stern face before the culprit came clean. Sure enough, Hugh burst into apologetic tears.
“He didn’t mean to, Ms. Upton,” another classmate, Franz, sounded off. “It...slipped.”
Annabeth refused to smile. “It slipped?”
Hugh, still crying, looked at Franz in sheer confusion. But Franz refused to budge. “Off his spoon.”
Annabeth narrowed her eyes. “Will any more fruit be slipping off your spoon?”
Every head at the table shook simultaneously, making it even harder to maintain her disciplinarian stance. “I hope not.”
She walked around the cafeteria, trying to ignore the way her stomach rebelled. She couldn’t throw up; there was nothing left in her stomach. And she didn’t want to go back to her office. Sitting only made it worse. Being up and walking around made her stomach bearable—most of the time.
“My turn,” Ken Branson said as he approached her.
“It’s fine.” She smiled.
“No, really, I’ll take it from here,” he assured, patting her shoulder.
“Okay.” She headed back to the main office, confused by Ken’s willingness to stay in the cafeteria. He hated cafeteria duty. He hated pretty much anything to do with actual kid interaction at this point. Once she walked into the main office, his attitude made sense. Kevin Michaels sat, his arms crossed, scowling. When he was angry, there was no doubting he was Winnie’s son.
“Is Kevin here to see me, Ms. Barnes?” Annabeth asked the school secretary.
“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Barnes nodded, looking apologetic.
“Do you have a teacher’s referral for me?” she asked Kevin.
He thrust the paper at her but wouldn’t look at her.
Annabeth scanned over the notes the teacher had made. “Looks like we need to have a talk in my office.”
Kevin looked at her then, so angry his jaw was tight. “Gonna call my mom?”
Annabeth read over the referral again. Maybe not. “I’d like to hear your side of things first.”
Apparently that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. His eyebrows rose and his jaw relaxed a little. He stood, leading the way to her office. Once he was seated in one of the two chairs facing her desk, she sat in the other.
“Why did you threaten to punch Billy in the face?” she asked.
Kevin frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You and Billy are friends,” she prodded gently.
Kevin glanced at her, then at the picture of Cody on her desk. He frowned. “He said something.”
Annabeth’s stomach chose that moment to make a sci-fi movie sound.
Kevin laughed, too surprised not to. “You okay, Ms. Upton?” He looked at Cody’s picture again. “Mrs. Boone.”
“Haven’t had time for lunch.” She tried to redirect him. “What did Billy say? Exactly?”
Kevin sighed. “He was talking about my mom.”
Annabeth didn’t say a word. Kevin Michaels might be a pain in her rear, but he loved his mother. “Can you tell me what he said?” Her stomach clenched, so she shifted in her chair.
Kevin shook his head.
“How about you write it down.” She shifted again, trying to find a comfortable position.
Kevin didn’t react.
Annabeth stood, rifling through her drawer for a packet of crackers. “I can call Billy in,” she offered.
Kevin shook his head fiercely.
“Kevin, if you’re not willing to tell me what happened, then I don’t have a choice.” She broke off a tiny piece of cracker and chewed it slowly. She was out of ginger ale, so this would have to do. “This is your chance.”
“He said my mom was a piece of trash and nobody likes her.” Kevin’s voice hitched. “And he called me a liar.”
Annabeth’s heart sank. Nobody liked to hear someone talk about their family that way. “What happened before that?”
Kevin leaned forward, his face turning red. “You mean did I do something?” he yelled.
“I need the whole picture, Kevin.” Annabeth stayed calm. “Billy had no right to say those things, but it will help me decide how to handle it if I know everything.”
Kevin sat back, crossing his arms over his chest again.
She sat at her desk, turning her attention to the paperwork spread out across her desk. If he wasn’t ready to talk, she’d give him some time to think things through. Kevin was very good at pressing buttons. Something more had happened to make Billy fight back.
“I said Ryder Boone had asked my mom to marry him and she turned him down.” Kevin’s words were thick, as though he was having to work to get them out.
Once they were, Annabeth wasn’t sure what to do about it. Billy’s parents worked on the Boone Ranch—his mother was a cook at the Lodge and his father a gamekeeper. So Billy, like so many in Stonewall Crossing, were protective of the Boone family.
“Is that true?” Annabeth asked. She knew it wasn’t.
Kevin scowled at her.
“Kevin—”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Kevin snapped. “My mom’s way prettier than you are.” Kevin’s voice rose as he kept talking. “And I don’t talk funny like Cody does. He could love us, if he wanted to. Why wouldn’t he want us instead of you?” He sniffed, on the verge of tears. “Why not?”
He broke her heart. She couldn’t be mad at him, even if the words were hard to hear. Every boy wanted a father, someone to love their mother. By defending the Boones, Billy had hit on Kevin’s biggest weakness.
Movement in the doorway caught her eye. Bryan Goebel stood there, hovering just outside, probably concerned over Kevin’s noise level. She gave the slightest shake of her head. He stepped back, but his shadow lingered on her office floor.
“People can’t choose who they love, Kevin.” She spoke softly. “It’s hard, isn’t it, living without a dad?”
“You don’t know.” Kevin frowned at her. “Your life is perfect.”
She folded her hands on her desk, swallowing down the laughter his words stirred. “My parents died when I was in first grade. In a car crash.”
Kevin’s eyes went round.
“I moved here to live with my grandmother.” She shrugged. “She took good care of me, but it wasn’t the same.”
“My dad left when I was in second grade.”
Annabeth knew the story. Most of Stonewall Crossing did. While Winnie Michaels had a questionable and very public relationship with a married man, Winnie’s husband got involved with that man’s wife. They left town together—leaving Kevin behind. As far as Annabeth knew, the only good thing about Kevin’s father was the reliability of his child support.
“It’s hard. And it hurts.” She nodded, searching for the right words. She didn’t know what to do for Kevin. But she wished he was involved in something, some outlet that would keep him out of his toxic home environment and let off some steam for a few hours each day.
Kevin stared at his hands. “I get angry sometimes.”
“We all do.” She nodded. “How we deal with the anger is what matters.”
“You get angry?” From the look on his face, he didn’t believe her.
She smiled, nodding. “Yes, I do.”
“Doubt it.” He shrugged, then asked, “So what’s
my punishment?”
“What do you think it should be?” she asked.
He looked at her, thinking hard. Finally, he shrugged again.
“I have an idea.” She sat forward. “Coach Goebel, are you out there?”
Bryan popped his head in.
“Didn’t you say you needed some help after school? Inflating balls, checking gym equipment and scraping the marks off the court?” she asked, hoping he’d take the not-so-subtle hint she was sending him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded, walking into her office.
Kevin looked up at him, surprised. “After school?”
“Yep.” Coach Goebel nodded.
“For at least the rest of the week,” Annabeth added. “I’ll have to tell your mom, Kevin.”
“Okay.” He nodded, looking back and forth between the two adults.
“You can go back to class now,” Annabeth said. “But ask your teacher to send Billy to me.”
Kevin frowned. “Can’t I just apologize to him? He never would have said that if I...if I hadn’t made that stuff up about my mom and Mr. Boone.”
Annabeth’s stomach made another disturbingly loud noise, drawing Bryan’s and Kevin’s eyes her way. “I think apologizing would be the right thing to do. But I still need to talk to Billy about choosing his words more carefully.” She might not be a Winnie Michaels fan, but calling the woman trash wasn’t okay. “Please think about what I said though, Kevin. We can’t pick who we love—that applies to our friends, too.”
Kevin nodded, then hurried out of her office.
She really wanted to rest her head on her desk. And she really wanted to throw up the small amount of cracker she’d just eaten into her trash can. But Coach Goebel was still there, watching her. As ridiculous as it sounded, there was still the chance Bryan Goebel was Ken Branson’s ally. And, even though she felt like quitting this very minute, she would not give up this job.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I heard him yelling and thought you might need backup.” Bryan grinned. “You did a great job with him.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“He can hang out with me and Cody for the rest of the week.” He nodded. “Easier to play basketball when there’s more players.”
Cody. She bit back her groan. She’d just forced her son to give up basketball for the week. Or to spend time with the boy who bullied him the most.
* * *
RYDER BALANCED ON the top step of the ladder.
“You know you’re not supposed to stand on that, right?” Annabeth said.
“How would you know? Unless you’ve done the same thing,” he replied, draping the strand of lights over the hook he’d hung.
“Ryder.” Her exasperated sigh made him chuckle.
He climbed down the ladder, his smile fading. “Annabeth, I got this. Why don’t you take Cody home?” She seemed to be getting thinner each day. He knew she was having a hard time keeping her food down, but there had to be something they could do.
“I’m fine.” She waved him away, turning to the last box.
“More lights,” Irene said. “The last of them.”
“Good.” Ryder smiled at the parent volunteers, appreciating the work they were doing for their kids. And he didn’t mind pitching in—he wanted to be an involved parent. But Annabeth had done enough. She’d already been here twelve hours.
“I can get the last of it.” Annabeth opened the box and tilted it onto its side. A huge rat jumped out and skittered across the table where the box rested, leapt to the stage and ran straight for the cover of the curtains. Annabeth jumped back, pinwheeling her arms to steady herself. Ryder was there, his big hands catching her about her waist and steadying her. “Rat! Big big rat.”
“Oh, my God,” Holly moaned. “I brought that into the school.”
Ryder shook his head. “Now we just need to get him out again.” His eyes swept over Annabeth. “You okay?”
She nodded. “What do you need?”
“A broom, a trash can, and something large enough to slide under the trash can.” He was already looking around the gym.
Annabeth pulled a ring of keys off her hip. “Broom’s in the janitor’s closet, over there.” She pointed in the direction the rat had run.
“Great.” He chuckled. “Anyone else wearing boots?” he asked.
“Me,” Jim volunteered. “Anyone not wearing boots might as well climb on the tables or get out of the gym. Those bastards bite, and they carry all sorts of bacteria and disease.”
Ryder approved of Jim’s no-nonsense approach. He took Annabeth’s keys and retrieved a broom while Jim found a trash can.
“If we prop open the side door, maybe it’ll run out?” Carol said.
The chances of that happening were slim, but he agreed. “Sure.” Ryder propped open the side door. As luck would have it, there was a trash can right outside. After a few minutes’ search, he located a piece of wood that should work. And that’s when the screaming began.
Ryder ran inside to find the rat running around the room, searching for a way out. Maybe they’d get lucky and the damn thing would run outside.
But just as Irene’s screaming stopped, Cody, another boy and the coach ran into the room and directly into the path of the rat. Ryder ran faster than he’d ever run, swinging that broom with all the strength he had. He hit the rodent, sending it across the room from Cody. But now the damn thing was mad. Jim approached it, holding the trash can at the ready, but the rat stood on its hind legs and charged the man. Jim backed up, startled, but the rat kept coming.
Ryder kicked into gear. “Coach?” He nodded in the direction of the board.
Thankfully the man was sharp. The coach grabbed the board, approaching Jim and the rat from the right while Ryder took the left.
“You ready?” Ryder asked, hoping Jim realized he was holding the trash can.
Jim snapped out of it then, glaring at the aggressive little rodent before nodding.
“On three?” the coach asked.
It worked. The rat was under the trash can and everyone breathed easier.
“How’re we going to get it outside?” the coach asked.
“With this.” Ryder took the wood from the coach. “You hold it? Don’t lift it or let it shift, I don’t care if we do pinch its toes.”
The rat was outside and running across the field in two minutes.
“Should’ve killed it,” the coach muttered under his breath.
“At least it’s not in the building.” Ryder nodded. “Ryder Boone.” He held his hand out.
“Bryan Goebel.” The man shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Quick on your feet.”
“Wouldn’t be much of a coach if I wasn’t.” The man laughed.
“You okay out here?” Annabeth hurried outside.
“Taken care of,” Bryan said.
“Thank you.” Annabeth’s relief was obvious. “Ryder, I think I will take Cody home now.”
Ryder nodded, thankful. She needed to be avoiding stress, resting when she could. He’d spent a lot of time researching pregnancy the past few days and, according to everything he’d read, the first trimester was a fairly risky time. “See you in a bit. I’ll cook something when I get there.”
She waved, then disappeared inside the building.
“She okay?” Bryan asked.
“She’s fine.” Ryder glanced at the other man, recognizing the look on Bryan Goebel’s face. The longing, the tenderness... Bryan Goebel was sweet on his wife.
Chapter Twelve
Annabeth smoothed the wispy blond hair from Cody’s sleeping face. She was still wound up from the evening’s events. Yes, she was overreacting, but she was pregnant. Otherwise, seeing that horrible rat running at Cody w
ouldn’t have shaken her up so badly. It was silly. Ryder wouldn’t have let anything happen. Deep inside her, she knew that. He hadn’t let anything happen. Everyone was safe, because of him.
Ryder...
He’d reacted quickly, without thought. If he’d been rattled or uncertain, she hadn’t seen it. He’d had everything in control. Moving with a confidence, and speed, that ratcheted up the already raging attraction she had for her husband.
What really worried her was she knew it was more. She wasn’t ready to face what more meant. But she was afraid her heart had become intensely involved.
She turned off the hall light and walked into the kitchen, the telltale rumble of thunder outside reminding her of the various leaks in the roof. Lightning flashed in the small window over the kitchen sink. The sink, where Ryder stood. He didn’t seem bothered by the coming storm. He was elbows deep in a sink of soapy dishes, humming to whatever country tune was coming from the radio. It looked as though he was content, maybe even a little happy. How she wished that was true.
If she was smart, she’d go to bed. Standing here admiring how his tight gray T-shirt clung to each and every muscle was a bad idea. Her attention lingered on his mighty fine rear. She swallowed, aching with desperate want. If she went over there and wrapped her arms around him, what would happen?
She hesitated for a moment, then did exactly that.
He froze. But not for long. He wiped his hands on a dish towel, then covered hers with his. His hands were hot and damp—encompassing her. She kissed his shoulder, pressing her nose against his back and breathing deep. His head-to-toe shiver surprised her.
Ryder kept her arms in place, even as he turned to face her. He stared down at her, the heat in his gaze challenging the very real warning inside her head. She wanted him and, for whatever reason, right now he wanted her.
His hands cupped her cheeks, tilting her head. The touch of his thumb along her lower lip startled her lips apart. His kiss was fierce. Lips parted, breaths merged, and tongues stoking deep. She melted into him, welcoming the heat that inflamed her. He pressed soft kisses to the corner of her mouth, her cheek, the hollow at the base of her neck. The slight scratch of stubble along her skin plus the sudden tenderness of his kisses had her aching for more. She slipped her hands beneath the hem of his shirt, pressing her palms against his skin.
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