“I see everyone just loves the new teacher. A word of advice? Don’t let it go to your head.” Amy placed her hand on the door handle so Paige couldn’t leave. “Just a hint, Paige. If you were trying to get anywhere with Caleb, it’s not going to happen. It would really be best if you kept your distance from him.”
She didn’t care about Caleb, but Amy didn’t know that. This woman needed to realize that it wasn’t okay to push other people around. Amy had done just that to all the girls at volleyball tryouts, but she wasn’t about to get away with treating Paige that way.
“What’s that even supposed to mean? You can’t go around threatening people.” Paige’s hands popped to her hips making the straps on her bags dig into her shoulders. Hard. Amy didn’t answer her. She lifted her hand off the door handle and walked off down the hallway.
Oh! Paige would have loved to say something to get under Amy’s skin. But she didn’t know Caleb well enough to know if he enjoyed the attention from Amy. In the truck after the teacher’s institute he’d seemed annoyed when Amy flirted with him. Then again, Paige’s record at judging men was not the greatest.
Either way, Amy could have Caleb because Paige sure didn’t want him.
* * *
The ride to Brookside took a solid thirty-five minutes. Quaint shoreline towns and winding roads near the dunes gave way to flat-grid neighborhoods and then a sprawling downtown. The economic difference from the tourist section to the normal towns in the state shocked her.
After passing the Welcome to Brookside sign, Paige drove by empty lots, weaved around trash in the street and gawked at the boarded-up homes and warehouses. The condition was far worse than the part of Chicago where she taught last year. Brookside looked like it was dying.
A crumbling concrete lot made up the area in front of Sarah’s Home. Weeds grew knee-high through the cracks near the sidewalk. Shouldn’t someone cut those? A single light flickered on the front of the building and only illuminated half of the nonprofit’s sign. Chills washed down Paige’s back. Maybe this had all been a mistake.
Maybe Caleb was right.
No, he couldn’t be. Mistake or not, she’d go in. If only to prove Caleb Beck wrong and show one more man that he couldn’t call the shots in her life.
Five other cars, including Caleb’s truck, filled the lot. Paige sucked in a deep, fortifying breath and left her car. She checked the door handle to make certain her Mazda was locked and then headed into the building.
The tight feeling in her lungs went away the second she stepped inside. Fresh paint in bright colors filled the first few rooms. There were tables and desks to work at, a room with five old computers, and another with science equipment. Inside felt like a safe haven in the midst of the darkness shadowing Brookside.
She followed the sound of voices to the back dining room where everyone huddled around a table over bowls of pasta. The room fell silent when she stepped through the doorway.
Caleb’s mouth hung open and his fork stopped midair. “What are you doing here?”
Great. Now she’d been asked that same question twice today.
“I’m here to help.” Paige shrugged.
Caleb rose and crossed to where she stood. His brows formed a deep V. “I thought we talked about this.” His voice held an insistent tone.
Paige tugged a hair tie from her wrist and tossed her hair into a messy bun, then she leaned to look around him at everyone else. Did he really want to get into a heated conversation in front of the other volunteers?
Principal Timmons motioned for everyone to bring their bowls to the large kitchen sink. “I think it’s about time we start working. Marty and Sam, you’ve got the floors. Vick and Claire, you have the bathrooms, and please also make a list of supplies that need to be restocked. I’ll be in the office or the basement with Wayne. Smalls—” he pointed at a teenage boy wearing orange high-tops and boasting what looked like the beginning of a patchy mustache “—you can wash up these dishes. But before we get started, I’d like to introduce Paige Windom. Paige is the woman I told you about at our last board meeting, and she’s going to be a great asset to our team. She’s come all the way from Chicago to help us.” Timmons offered an encouraging smile. “Paige, we’d love to hear your ideas about ways to improve Sarah’s Home.”
“Now?” Paige’s voice squeaked. Her gaze darted to Caleb. He looked like a bull about to start pawing the ground.
Timmons didn’t seem to notice. “If you have any ideas now, we’d love to hear them. The board’s made up of Marty, Claire and myself, and we could all head to the office if you’d like.”
Paige clutched her purse, suddenly feeling inadequate. “Maybe we should wait until after I’ve been here a few weeks.” These people were looking at her like she had a special plan to save their nonprofit when the truth was, she didn’t even know what was wrong with it. She’d left her life back in Chicago thinking Sarah’s Home would save her. It was disheartening to find out the place she’d depended on for redirection needed rescuing instead.
Everyone but Smalls and Caleb dispersed to their assigned tasks. Smalls whistled long and low. “You’re a fine-looking lady. I wouldn’t mind—”
Caleb grimaced. “Be respectful.”
Smalls stood a bit straighter, although it was hard to tell with his baggy pants. “Apologies. I mean, you’re one pretty woman, Miss Windom.”
Paige laughed. “Thanks. I think. But you can just call me Paige.” She sidestepped Caleb and placed her purse on the counter. “Nice shoes. Very bright.”
“You like them? Orange beats all.” The boy’s chest puffed out like she’d just given him the best compliment.
“Could you use some help with those dishes?”
Caleb stayed rooted in the same spot. He worked his jaw back and forth like he wanted to say something, but fought the urge.
Smalls motioned for her to join him at the deep, industrial sinks. He nudged her as she rolled up her sleeves. “See how I did that? I’m a player. Got you to come do my work.”
“Between you and me, you still have a lot to learn about women.” Paige smiled at the teenager. His forced charm, seasoned with street smarts, had a way of softening her heart and made Paige miss her Chicago students.
“Aww, haters gonna hate.” He grabbed the scrub brush and laughed.
“So, you volunteer here?” Paige tried to ignore Caleb looming in the doorway. Go do something.
“Kind of. More like, they can’t shake me even if they want to.” Smalls grinned, showing a chipped front tooth. “Timmons said you’re from Chicago—that right?”
Paige plunged her hands into the lukewarm water and fished out the tattered rag. “I’m from the suburbs outside of the city, but I taught there for a few years.”
“Chicago’s off the hiz-zay.” He said it like it was two words, his voice getting louder on the last part. “I’d give everything to go there.”
“Let me guess—for the deep-dish pizza?” Paige glanced behind her. Thankfully Caleb had left at some point during her conversation with Smalls.
Smalls started drying off the plates. “Naw, man. Keep up. Chicago’s the home of slam poetry.”
“You do slam poetry?” She’d gone to a slam contest before, where poets competed against one another—rattling off poems they made up. A couple of the well-known improv theaters in Chicago hosted slam poetry events. She’d enjoyed attending them and marveled at people who could come up with intelligent work on the spot.
“Sometimes.” Smalls shrugged. “There’s a place on the west side of town that does it once a month. I’m not so bad at it.”
Paige rinsed off the last bowl. “I’d love to come see you sometime.”
“Really? You’d do that?” Smalls broke into a huge, genuine smile.
“Sure.”
After Paige and Smalls finished the dishes, they went to the basement and scrubbed shelves and helped Vick and Claire compile a supply list. She learned that Claire was a retired cop from Brookside who specialized in the juvenile division while on the force. She was also the only other woman, besides Paige, currently serving at the nonprofit.
At the end of the night everyone gathered in the kitchen. Timmons offered her his chair.
Marty, an aging man who looked like he might have been the leader of a motorcycle gang at some point, cleared his throat. “I wanted to thank everyone for their hard work tonight. It looks like we’ll be shining for our opening next week. Please remember we’ve moved our open night from Tuesday to Thursday this year. Unless anyone else has something to say, let’s head out. We’ll see you all next week.”
Paige hoped to catch a couple of the people she hadn’t gotten to visit with yet, but then realized that wasn’t going to happen. At past nine on a school night, everyone at Sarah’s Home seemed to want leave right away. She grabbed her purse and almost made it out the door before remembering she’d brought a coat. Where did she leave it? Paige turned back down the hallway and took the stairs to the basement two at a time. Her coat wasn’t downstairs, either. No matter, she’d be here next week and find it then. But now, the muscles in her back ached, and she just wanted to get back to Maggie’s inn, take off her shoes and relax. It had been a long day.
Caleb’s truck was parked next to her compact car, but besides that everyone had already left. She clicked the button to unlock her Mazda then froze. Someone waited in the space between her car and Caleb’s truck, right outside her driver’s door. A scream died on Paige’s lips. She never could find her voice when scared.
“Are you really set on being a part of this?” Caleb. Only Caleb. She should have known. A man’s voice had never sounded so good.
Her knees stopped wobbling.
She loosened the hold on her purse. “You know, you really shouldn’t hide behind dark trucks and scare women. I could have maced you.”
He crossed his arms and leaned against her car. “At least you’re admitting there’s something to be afraid of.”
Paige blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Yeah. Creepy science teachers who huddle by my car.”
Caleb’s hands dropped to his sides. “I wasn’t huddling.”
“You kind of were.”
“It’s cold outside and—wait, you made me lose my train of thought.” He took a step closer to her. Close enough she could see his eyelashes; they were long for a man. She’d love to have lashes like that.
Despite the warm temperatures during the day, the evening had chilled. Crisp puffs of breath escaped from both of their lips and vanished into the air. The streetlight in front of Sarah’s Home flickered three times before going out completely. Darkness almost cloaked a homeless man crouched near the doorway of a boarded-up store across the street. A police siren echoed in the distance, and down the block a man slammed a car door and started to yell at someone.
Paige shivered. From cold. Or the reality of Brookside. She couldn’t tell.
Caleb tilted his head. What must he be thinking?
“After tonight. After actually seeing this place...do you still want to be involved?” He spoke so quietly, she had to lean even closer.
Did she? Paige bit her lip. “Yes. Of course.” If only to prove she could.
“But I don’t understand. You’ve now—”
“Listen, because of Principal Timmons, my dad has been involved with this place from the start. We’ve received every newsletter you sent. I used to scour the mail for them. I always wanted to be a teacher, but Sarah’s Home opened my mind to helping students outside of my comfort zone. Because of those newsletters I changed the entire course of my education—helping students like the ones that come here became my passion. You don’t just back down from something you’ve thought about for years.” Paige tried to keep the quiver out of her voice.
Caleb brought one of his hands to his mouth and took another loud, deep breath. “It’s not safe, Paige. Don’t you see that?” He braced one hand on her car and one hand on his truck. “For instance, tonight—what if I hadn’t stayed and made sure you got to your car safely?”
Defuse the situation. “Then you wouldn’t have been hiding by it?”
He tipped his head back and looked up at the sky for a moment. “Be serious. This is a dangerous city.”
“So you keep saying.” Oh, she just wanted to get in her car and go home.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ll continue to remind you of that until you get it.”
Enough. Paige folded her arms, pressing her hands into her armpits to hide that they were shaking. “And what exactly does getting it mean? Dropping out? Not being a part of this? You know, why are guys like this?”
“Like what?”
She took a step closer to him. “Just because you don’t agree with something, doesn’t mean you can bully me until—”
“I’m not bullying you.” He put his hands on her shoulders, making her look up at him.
“You are.” The words should have come out with more force and in a more convincing tone, but some of her fight was gone. Speaking up was harder than she imagined. No wonder she’d never been able to state her feelings with Bryan. It was tiring to disagree with someone, and he wouldn’t have let the conversation go on this long if she’d tried.
Paige swallowed hard. Caleb’s chocolate gaze locked with hers, full of questions she didn’t have answers to. The pressure of his hands on her shoulders wasn’t forceful. Not like he wanted to stop her from talking. Instead, they felt comforting and reassuring in a way that didn’t make sense. With his eyes he asked her to keep talking—to let him in on whatever secret formed this wall of tension between them.
She opened her mouth. Then closed it.
No. She couldn’t tell him about Bryan, Jay and Tommy. And definitely not about Dad. A man like Caleb wouldn’t care to hear about the ribbons of betrayal that each past relationship had woven into the fabric of her heart. So much that the ribbons were all she could see—all she knew about herself. Paige—the woman men don’t stay with.
Suddenly, Caleb turned and placed both hands on his truck. He bowed his head and his eyes snapped shut.
“What are you doing?” She missed the warmth of his hands. It was cold out, after all.
Eyes still closed, Caleb sighed. “Praying. I’m praying.” After a few minutes of silence, he straightened. “You’re cold.”
In a fluid movement, he unsnapped his jacket and slipped it around her shoulders. As he buttoned the first two clasps, a waft of his warmth and scent rushed over her. It was masculine, a perfect mixture of pine trees and fresh night rain and hard work.
Paige reached to unsnap the coat. “It’s not necessary...my car will warm up and—”
Caleb cupped his hands over hers. Paige froze.
“Please keep the coat on.” Caleb’s voice was gentle. “You can give it back to me tomorrow.”
She kept staring into his eyes. As much as she wanted to fight against Caleb and believe he was just another controlling man, Paige couldn’t deny the concern written in his wrinkled brow and open expression.
“I might forget it tomorrow. Let me just—”
Still holding her hands, Caleb leaned a little closer. “Goose Harbor’s a small town. I’m fairly certain we’ll cross paths again.” He let go and clicked the button to unlock his truck. “Be safe, Paige.”
She nodded and fumbled with her keys as she got into her Mazda. Her engine coughed when she turned it on, and she slowly pulled out of the parking lot. Caleb’s truck followed. When she had a bit more money, she’d have to have her car tuned up. What would she do if it broke down in Brookside? Phone AAA and wait by t
he side of the road? Creepy.
At the stop sign she glanced at the truck lights behind her in the rearview mirror. Caleb. He’d take care of her if the Mazda broke down tonight.
For the first time in a long time, Paige was thankful for the protection of a man.
Chapter Seven
Don’t look for her.
He’d checked already and she wasn’t at the farmer’s market. Besides, Paige Windom certainly didn’t need him watching out for her, nor did she seem to want it. Nevertheless, she was on his mind this morning. No thanks to Shelby, who teased him mercilessly the whole walk to the square.
Is that girl you keep talking about going to be here? Paige? She’s pretty, isn’t she? Don’t argue with me, Caleb. You’re a goner for her. I know because you talk about her every day at dinner.
Between Shelby and Maggie, suddenly every female in his life had turned into a matchmaker.
Caleb pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and paid for the produce Shelby picked out from Farmer Turner’s booth at the weekly farmer’s market. The prices always seemed high to him, but because of Goose Harbor’s local ordinance against chain stores within city limits, the closest grocery store was more than a twenty-minute drive away. That alone made the farmer’s market that took over the square each Saturday morning a staple for most of the population.
He grabbed the canvas bag from Farmer Turner and searched the small crowd in the square for his sister. Shelby chatted near the gazebo with Mrs. Clarkson, the old widow who the year-round residents in town made a point to look out for. High-school boys shoveled the Clarkson homestead driveway without being asked. The postman stopped in, and she’d ask him to reach a cobweb on the ceiling. Goose Harbor even hosted an annual event dubbed The Orphaned Sock Mixer, where everyone donated socks without a mate to Mrs. Clarkson, who sewed them into the oddest sweatshirtlike garments. It had turned into a huge potluck event that everyone looked forward to after the tourist season died down.
Goose Harbor might be a strange town, but it was home and it was safe and the couple of people left in the world that he loved could live protected here. He didn’t have to worry about Maggie getting taken advantage of in her business or Shelby being hurt by some man he didn’t know. Not as long as they stayed in town, where the year-round residents knew them and their past hurts, and sheltered them.
Love Inspired August 2014 – Bundle 1 of 2 Page 51