Miss Liz’s Passion
New York Times Bestselling Author
Sherryl Woods
Elizabeth Gentry put all her passion into her students. Educating them, encouraging them, reaching them—that was easy. It was the living that was hard. After the betrayal, the grief and the pain, there was a kind of peace in giving away her heart to her pupils.
That was what made Todd Lewis so dangerous. With his dogged determination and rugged handsomeness, he had slowly staked his own claim on her heart and made her feel again. Made her want to hope and dream. But her hopes, her dreams, her heart—were so fragile. Could she entrust them to him? Or would he destroy them for good?
Also by Sherryl Woods
WHERE AZALEAS BLOOM*
CATCHING FIREFLIES*
MIDNIGHT PROMISES*
THE SUMMER GARDEN***
AN O'BRIEN FAMILY CHRISTMAS***
BEACH LANE***
MOONLIGHT COVE***
DRIFTWOOD COTTAGE***
RETURN TO ROSE COTTAGE#
HOME AT ROSE COTTAGE#
A CHESAPEAKE SHORES CHRISTMAS***
HONEYSUCKLE SUMMER*
SWEET TEA AT SUNRISE*
HOME IN CAROLINA*
HARBOR LIGHTS***
FLOWERS ON MAIN***
THE INN AT EAGLE POINT***
WELCOME TO SERENITY*
SEAVIEW INN
MENDING FENCES
FEELS LIKE FAMILY*
A SLICE OF HEAVEN*
STEALING HOME*
WAKING UP IN CHARLESTON
FLIRTING WITH DISASTER
THE BACKUP PLAN
DESTINY UNLEASHED
FLAMINGO DINER
ALONG CAME TROUBLE**
ASK ANYONE**
ABOUT THAT MAN**
ANGEL MINE
AFTER TEX
Look for Sherryl Woods's next original novel
SAND CASTLE BAY
Although Dolphin Reach, the characters and the incidents in Miss Liz’s Passion are fiction, a similarly innovative program is currently under way at the Dolphin Research Center in Grassy Key, Florida. A special thanks to Dr. David Nathanson for sharing his expertise, to the enthusiastic Dolphin Research Center staff and to Spring and her family for sharing their time and enthusiasm.
For Moira, who brings dedication, imagination and love to some very special students.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
The bite mark was an angry red, only one shade darker than Teri Lynn’s face as she howled at the top of her lungs and clutched her injured arm. Breathless from streaking across the grassy playground to break up the fight, Liz Gentry knelt between the crying girl and her eight-year-old tormentor.
“Kevin, what is the meaning of this?” Liz demanded as she wiped away Teri Lynn’s tears with a lace-edged, lavender-scented handkerchief.
The towheaded boy she addressed stared sullenly at the ground, scuffing the toe of his sneaker back and forth in the dirt. She put a firm hand on his chin and forced him to meet her gaze. “Kevin?”
She sighed as he remained obstinately silent.
“He bit me, Mrs. Gentry. For no reason, he just bit me,” Teri Lynn said between sobs.
“Did not,” Kevin muttered defiantly.
“Did, too,” Teri Lynn insisted with a sniff as she inched closer to Liz’s side.
“Kevin, if you didn’t do it, who did?” Liz asked impatiently, then sighed again.
Of course, Kevin had done it. She’d seen him herself. One minute he and Teri Lynn had been tossing a ball back and forth on the playground. Seconds later he had flown at her in a rage. Half a dozen shocked classmates had stared on silently, while others, seemingly immune to Kevin’s displays of temper, continued with their noisy games.
So much for her hopes for an uneventful recess, she thought as she comforted Teri Lynn. Thanks to Kevin, at the rate the school year was going, she would have had a quieter time of it in the Marines.
As the bell rang ending recess, she surveyed the combatants. Both of them had cuts and scrapes, but that bite mark on Teri Lynn’s arm was the worst injury.
“Okay, we won’t argue about it now. Teri Lynn, I’ll take you to the school nurse as soon as I get the rest of the class inside. Kevin, you and I will discuss this after school. In the meantime, you will go to the principal’s office and wait for me.”
Her tone left no room for argument. Not that Kevin would have given her one. He simply nodded as he always did. Inside the building, as she watched, he walked down the deserted hall and turned into the office. She knew from experience she would find him there at the end of the school day, sitting on a bench, his expression stoic. Only the telltale traces of tears on his cheeks ever offered any indication that he’d found the recurring incidents of misbehavior or the punishment upsetting.
The last hours of school dragged on interminably. She tried to listen as the students read their English assignments aloud, but she couldn’t get her mind off Kevin. Despite his troublesome behavior, something about the child’s lost, world-weary expression tugged at her heart. She cared about all of her students. She loved the challenge of making them respond, of making learning exciting for them. With Kevin the challenge had been doubled because her usual methods had failed so miserably. Whether it was her own ego or Kevin’s apparent need, he had gotten to her in a way that none of the other students had.
But how on earth was she going to handle this ongoing behavior problem? No matter how compassionately she felt toward Kevin, his conduct had to be corrected. There was a fight or a temper tantrum, or a sulking retreat almost every day. The child clearly needed help, more help than she could possibly offer him in a room crowded with thirty-five energetic third-graders.
It was only the first month of school and already she had repeatedly sent notes home to his father, who had sole custody for reasons not made clear in the file. No mention was made of the mother. In her first letter to Todd Lewis she had explained Kevin’s behavior problems in depth, detailing her suspicions about the cause and requesting a meeting to discuss solutions. The second note and the third had been a little more impatient, a little more concise. Admittedly, the last one had been barely polite.
Todd Lewis had yet to call, much less appear, which told her quite a lot about the man’s indifference to his son’s wellbeing and left her thoroughly frustrated. Reaching him by phone had been no more successful. With an increasing sense of urgency, she had left at least half a dozen messages on his home answering machine in the last two days. If he had a business number, or cell phone number, she couldn’t find it. The emergency number in the file had turned out to belong to a neighbor, who looked out for Kevin after school. Liz had been unwilling to draw the woman into the midst of the problem. She had asked her only to relay a message asking Todd Lewis to call. The woman had agreed readily enough, but admitted she rarely saw him.
Liz resolved to try just once more to arrange a meeting. If the man failed to show up yet again, she would have to resort to stronger action. There were authorities she could ask to intercede. Filled with indignation on Kevin’s behalf, she dismissed the class, asked the teacher next door to get her students to their buses, then wrote the harshest note yet, hoping to shake Todd Lewis from his parental apathy.
When she’d finished the not
e, she went to get Kevin. As she’d expected, he was sitting on the wooden bench in the office, his short legs sticking out in front of him, his hands folded in his lap. He didn’t even look up as she sat down beside him. She was torn between wanting to hug him or shake him. He looked as though he desperately needed a hug.
“Okay, Kevin. Let’s talk about this for a few minutes before you catch the school bus. Tell me what happened out there this afternoon,” she began quietly.
He shook his head, his expression hopeless. That look broke her heart. No child of eight should have eyes that devoid of hope.
“Why not?” she probed.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said in a voice so soft she had to lean down to hear him.
“It does matter. Fighting is no way to settle an argument.”
“Teri Lynn started it,” he said with more spirit.
“Kevin, I was watching. I saw you knock her down.”
“Only because—”
“Because what?”
His chin set stubbornly.
“Kevin?”
“She said something,” he mumbled.
“What?”
He shook his head again.
“Kevin, this is not the first fight you’ve had. I can’t help, if you won’t tell me what the fights are about. I don’t want to recommend that you be suspended, but that’s where you’re heading.”
Blue eyes shimmering with tears blinked wide at her stern tone. Liz felt her heart constrict. If only she could get to the bottom of this. Her voice softened. “Honey, please, what did she say that made you so mad?”
His lower lip trembled. Liz waited as he started to speak, swallowed hard, then tried again. “She-she…said…”
“Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me.”
His shoulders slumped and tears spilled down his cheeks. “She said I was a…a d-dummy.”
Liz felt the sting of salty tears in her own eyes at the note of despair she heard in his voice. He believed it! This bright, outgoing child believed he was a failure because of the cruel taunts of a classmate and her own inability to find teaching methods that would reach him.
Kevin needed diagnostic testing. He needed special classes. Most of all, he needed a father who loved him enough to see that the answers to his learning dilemma were found before Kevin withdrew into himself entirely. Damn Todd Lewis!
More than ever, she was glad that this latest note had been worded so strongly. The man’s indifference was appalling. Furious, she decided if he failed to respond this time it would be the last. She renewed her vow to set in motion whatever regulations were necessary to see that Kevin got the help that would enable him to learn. More important, she would see that something was done to restore his rapidly deteriorating self-esteem.
“Kevin, you are not a dummy,” she said with every ounce of conviction she could manage. “You are a very smart little boy.”
He regarded her doubtfully. “But you’re always correcting me. That’s why Teri Lynn said it. She says you don’t like me, that nobody likes me because I always make mistakes.” He sighed heavily. “And I do. I can’t get nothing right.”
“Anything,” she corrected instinctively, then could have bitten her tongue. Why just this once couldn’t she have let a mistake slide? “Honey, I do like you. I know this is hard for you to understand, but I believe that the reason you make mistakes is not because you’re not very, very smart, but because you have something called a learning disability. That’s what I want to talk to your father about. I think we should do some tests to find out why it’s so hard for you to learn.”
“Is that what the note says?” he asked, fingering the sealed envelope suspiciously.
She considered the note’s indignant comments. For a fleeting instant she was almost grateful that Kevin had difficulty reading. “More or less,” she said wryly. “Kevin, is there some reason your father hasn’t been able to come in when I’ve asked him to?”
He stared at the floor and shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s pretty busy, I guess.” There was an obvious note of pride in his voice as he added, “He works real hard.”
“You just tell him that I expect to see him tomorrow. Okay?”
“I’ll tell him.” He frowned. “You’re not gonna be mad at him for not coming before, are you?”
Liz struggled to keep her tone impassive. “Don’t worry about that. We’ll work things out and once your dad and I talk I’m sure things will get better for you. Now run along before you miss the early bus again today.”
He was on his feet at once, his natural exuberance restored.
“Kevin!”
He glanced back at her. “We’ll discuss your apology to Teri Lynn in the morning.”
He nodded once, shot her a cheerful grin and was out the door, leaving her to ponder exactly how many years she would spend in jail if she tarred and feathered Todd Lewis.
Chapter 1
The neat, handwritten letter had all the primness of some Victorian maiden’s blush. According to the indignant opening line, it was not the first such reprimand that Todd Lewis should have received in the past month. The prissy, uptight tone might have amused him had the contents not infuriated him so.
Exhausted by an endless and frustrating day under the hot Miami sun, he reached for the can of beer beside his chair. Perhaps he was overreacting. God knows, it would be understandable. He was bone-weary. His shoulders ached, his back felt like someone was holding a burning knife in the middle of it and his thighs throbbed from the strain of struggling with those damned girders since just after dawn. He had little patience left for someone who’d spent a few hours lolling around in an air-conditioned classroom and still had complaints about how tough the workday was.
He took a long swallow of beer, then slowly read the letter again. The words and the crisp, precise, censuring tone hadn’t mellowed one whit. Neither did his dark mood.
Elizabeth Gentry—he was willing to bet it was Miss Gentry—was sharply criticizing his son. For some reason he couldn’t quite follow, she didn’t seem to be too thrilled with him, either. She demanded that Todd come in the following afternoon at 3:30 to discuss the boy’s “uncontrollable behavior, deplorable manners and inappropriate language.”
Todd felt his blood pressure begin to soar again. He did not appreciate being chastised in such a demeaning tone by a woman he’d never even met. Nor was he wild about the labels she’d slapped on his son. Another sip of beer soothed his parched throat but not his fiery temper.
He could just picture the woman. Gray hair drawn back in a tidy little bun, a spine of steel, no makeup, rimless glasses sliding down to the end of her too-large nose, nondescript clothes in gray or brown or maybe one of those little floral prints his grandmother used to wear. He sighed at the daunting prospect. He had no idea how to deal with a sexless, unimaginative woman like that.
He took another sip of beer and read on. “Your continued refusal to take action in this matter indicates a startling lack of interest in Kevin’s educational well-being and social adjustment. Should you fail to keep this appointment, I am afraid it will be necessary for me to pursue the matter with other authorities.”
What other authorities? Was the woman actually suggesting that he be reported to some local bureaucrat, maybe even a state agency? A knot formed in his stomach at the insulting suggestion that he was an uncaring father, who approved of—what was it?—uncontrollable behavior, deplorable manners and inappropriate language.
Okay, he was willing to admit that Kevin was a handful, but what eight-year-old wasn’t? He just needed a little firm discipline every now and then.
Suddenly the nagging memory of his ex-wife’s endless complaints about Kevin’s manageability returned with untimely clarity. He’d dismissed her rantings at the time as yet another excuse for walking out on them. Sarah had wanted to leave long before the night she’d finally packed her bags and departed. She’d been too young, too immature to accept the responsibility of marriage, much less a tr
oublesome son. He had blamed the inability to cope on her, not Kevin.
The comparison gave him a moment’s pause, but he dismissed the significance almost at once. No doubt this terribly proper and probably ancient Miss Gentry was equally inept with children. If she couldn’t handle an eight-year-old boy, perhaps she’d chosen the wrong profession. Perhaps she should be teaching piano and embroidery to sedate young ladies in frilly dresses and dainty white gloves, instead of third-grade boys who got dirt on their clothes even before the school bus picked them up in the morning.
He glanced across the room at his sturdy, blond son. Kevin was quietly racing small cars through an intricately designed village he’d built from the set of Lego blocks he’d begged for and received for his birthday. Todd figured the subdued behavior would last no more than another ten minutes, long enough for his son to feel secure that this note from his teacher would not result in some sort of punishment.
“Kevin.” He kept his tone determinedly neutral. Still, wary blue eyes glanced up from the toy Porsche that was about to skitter around the village’s sharpest turn. A tiny jaw jutted up, mimicking all too accurately Todd’s own frequently belligerent expression. That look warned him that there just might be something behind Miss Gentry’s complaints.
“What’s this all about, son?”
“Same old stuff.” Kevin directed his attention back to the car. It whizzed around the turn and up a hill.
“What stuff?” Todd persisted. “I gather this is not the first time your teacher has written.”
A guilty blush spread across Kevin’s round, freckled cheeks and he continued to look down. Todd nodded with sudden understanding. No wonder the teacher had been indignant. She thought he’d seen all of her earlier notes and had intentionally ignored them.
“I see,” he said wearily. “What did you do with the other letters?”
There was the tiniest hesitation before Kevin said in a whisper, “I lost ’em.”
“Really? How convenient,” he said, barely controlling his temper. “Suppose you tell me what they were about.”
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