by Debra Webb
“What in the world are you talking about?” Patty adopted a properly incensed expression.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Donna fired back.
“Please.” Patty’s gaze shot to the workmen at the end of the hall. “Don’t make a scene here,” she scolded in a low voice.
Frustration mounting, Donna glanced at the workmen at the end of the hall. This was a very small town. Gossip was no doubt a beloved pastime, especially when a newcomer was involved. She and her sister needed some privacy to continue this conversation. She grabbed Patty’s arm and pulled her into the tiny supply room. “Look,” she demanded, shutting the door behind them, “You will tell me the deal with this teacher right now.”
“There is no deal.” Patty shrugged, crossed her arms over her chest and propped against a shelf. “You’re overreacting. Lots of mothers go a little wacky when they send their young off to school for the first time. Trust me, it’ll pass.”
Donna laughed. “Right.” Oh, yes. Something was definitely amiss. Something big.
“It never occurred to me to mention the gender of Melissa’s teacher,” Patty insisted.
“Maybe not,” Donna countered, “but the fact that I spoke to Melissa every night for the past two weeks and she never once mentioned she was a he seems awfully suspicious to me.” Donna leaned back against the door and matched her sister’s stance.
“Are you accusing me of instructing your child to lie?”
If the outrage in Patty’s tone had only reached her eyes Donna might have believed she was actually offended, but her eyes gave her away. “No, sis, I’m accusing you of advising my child to avoid the subject.”
“What makes you think she would’ve mentioned it at all?”
Donna rolled her eyes. “We are talking about a child who has always had a female caregiver. Not to mention—”
“You’re making too much of this.”
“Not to mention,” Donna repeated, “the fact that there has never been a male figure in our household. I seriously doubt that walking into the classroom the first day and laying eyes on a man who looks like a linebacker for the Denver Broncos is something Melissa considered the norm.”
“That’s it,” Patty broke in. “That’s the whole issue in a nutshell.” Her eyes blazed with real anger now. “You don’t like Hank Bradley because he’s good-looking, self-confident and athletic.”
“You know that’s not all there is to it.” Donna had her reasons and they were damned good ones.
“Oh, yes.” Patty threw up her hands in exasperation. “I forgot the most important part—he’s nothing but a no-good heartbreaker just like Melissa’s father.”
“Don’t start,” Donna warned.
Patty’s eyes narrowed in accusation. “This is exactly why I didn’t tell you. There’s only one kindergarten class and Hank Bradley’s the teacher. I knew you’d overreact when you found out. You’re completely unreasonable when it comes to men.”
“I am not unreasonable.” The idea was ridiculous. “I’m entitled to my own opinion. I simply don’t like Hank Bradley’s type.” Between Melissa’s father and Donna’s former partner, she had a legitimate reason to feel this way.
“What difference does it make what he looks like? A teacher is a teacher—as long as they’re good.”
“It’s the attitude that goes with the look that I despise. The whole I can take whatever I want and no one else matters mentality.”
“Hank Bradley is a good teacher,” Patty insisted, “not to mention the best coach Huntley has ever had.”
“Coach?” Every sensory receptor in Donna’s body went on alert. “Melissa’s teacher is a coach? As in basketball or football or some other ego-driven sport?”
“Football,” Patty mumbled with a grimace. “But before you go ballistic on me, just remember that you can’t judge all men by one or two. No matter what you think, Hank is a nice guy.”
Donna shook her head and looked heavenward. “Why couldn’t there be two kindergartens?” It wasn’t like she could decide to move again. Her entire life’s saving was here…in this former butcher shop!
“Give the man a chance. It isn’t his fault they put him in the kindergarten class this year. He—”
“This year? You mean he’s never done this before?” Donna felt her blood pressure rising. Any minute now it would reach stroke proportions.
A sharp knock at the door made Donna jump away from the sound. Her hand went to her throat. The electrician. “Just a minute!” She narrowed her gaze on her sister. “Well?”
“Of course he’s taught before,” Patty huffed in a stage whisper. “He was the high school history teacher last year.”
“High school—”
“Dr. Jacobs.” A gravelly voice called through the closed door. “We’re all through checking out your electrical system.”
After giving her sister an I’m-not-finished-with-you-yet look, Donna turned and opened the door just far enough to stick her head out. “Any problems?” she asked, manufacturing a smile. She wondered just how long he’d been standing outside the door listening before he knocked. He probably heard the whole sordid conversation. By sundown all of Huntley would know that the new doctor didn’t care for her daughter’s teacher.
The tall, lanky man in tan coveralls eyed Donna with plain old impatience. “There’s a bit of work that needs to be done. It’s all in the report.” He shoved a copy of a handwritten report in her direction.
“Thank you.” Donna accepted the form and frowned at the scrawled handwriting. This guy should be a doctor. He certainly had the handwriting down pat. “Do I need to pay you now?”
“Nope.” He tipped his hat. “You’ll get a bill.” With a gesture that seemed more grimace than smile, he turned and strode away.
His report looked longer than she’d hoped for. Just one more thing to worry about. She shut the door and turned back to her sister. At least this was going to get straightened out this morning. One way or another Donna would get the lowdown on Hank Bradley.
She squared her shoulders and prepared for the worst. “How long has Hank Bradley been a teacher?”
“This is his second year.” Patty visibly braced.
“And before that?” Donna knew she was getting close to the ultimate issue now.
“Before that.” Patty stared at the tiled floor. “Before that...he was a quarterback for the Miami Dolphins.”
“Oh…my…God.” Feeling as if the walls of the small room were closing in on her, Donna jerked the door open and stormed out.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Patty called after her.
Halfway across the lobby Donna halted and turned on her. “You’re telling me that my baby’s teacher is a professional jock.”
Patty hesitated and then nodded. “Well, at least he used to be, before a knee injury ended his career.”
“And it gets worse!” Donna rubbed her throbbing forehead. “I knew it. The concept actually flitted through the back of my mind. How could...?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I hate jocks. I hate that surly tough-guy attitude.” On top of that this one was probably mad at the world because he couldn’t play ball anymore.
“I know you do. But, Donna, there’s more to him than that. Hank really is a good guy. He’s nothing like—”
“Don’t,” Donna cut her off. “I don’t even want to think about him. Ever.” Brick Wallace was nothing but a jerk. If Donna never saw him again it would be too soon. He could take his pro ball career and…
Patty slid her arm around her sagging shoulders. “Honey, despite the horrid experiences you had, all jocks aren’t low life bastards. If you hadn’t avoided the male species other than Melissa’s father and your partner these last few years you might have learned that by now.” Patty gave her a squeeze. “You shouldn’t hold Hank’s physical attributes against him. Besides, Melissa absolutely adores him, and he’s a wonderful teacher.”
“If you’re trying to reassure me, it’s not working.�
�� Donna dropped into a padded, gray chair. On some level she understood her sister was right but that didn’t make her feel any better at the moment. “What I’d like to know is how did this man—this coach—end up teaching kindergarten?”
“I don’t know all the details. Hank was hired by Mr. Taylor, the principal who died last spring. I think maybe it has something to do with the interim principal, Ms. Masters.” Patty shrugged. “She’s a real—well, you know. She’s smart, beautiful, and she likes things her way. Rumor has it she does everything she can to make Hank’s life miserable. I’ve heard she’s a cougar and wants…well you know.”
Donna closed her eyes and leaned her head against the wall. She didn’t even want to consider what her daughter’s teacher had done to make the principal dislike him so. “I came here to get away from all the stress and insanity.” She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. “All I want is a nice, quiet life. No big staff meetings. No cocktail parties. And no hidden agendas like insurance fraud.”
“I know.” Patty sat down beside her. “But no place is perfect.” She took Donna’s hand in hers. “No matter how it looks at the moment, coming here was the right thing to do.”
Donna looked directly at Patty. “Starting over is the pits.”
“You chose the path that matters. You needed a fresh start for your career. Melissa needed a safe, happy environment to grow up in. I think you’ll find both those things here in our not quite perfect little town.”
Melissa’s unexpected daddy question elbowed its way to the front of the issues lined up on Donna’s plate. “You aren’t going to believe what Melissa asked me this morning.”
Patty made a face. “What?”
“She wants to know when she’s going to get a daddy like her cousins and friends.”
“Oh, my.”
“I knew it would happen eventually; I just hoped it would be later rather than sooner.”
“Maybe it’s because she spent the last couple of weeks with us. Sam spends a lot of time with the girls. And starting school changes things, too. She probably hears the other children talking about their daddies.”
“Now, I have to decide what to tell her.” Did being a mom ever get easier?
“Don’t make too much of it just yet. Wait and see if she mentions it again. Five-year-olds are like butterflies, they flit from one fancy to another.”
“I hope you’re right.”
It started with a rumble. Donna frowned. The sound or the feeling got closer and closer until it felt as if the whole building was shaking. A whistle like shriek filled the air.
Donna straightened away from the vibrating wall. “Is that a train?” She vaguely remembered crossing tracks somewhere on the way from Patty’s house to here.
“Yeah.” Patty winced. “I forgot to mention the train. It comes through about nine every morning.”
The rumble faded and the room fell calm again but the full realization was only then fully setting in for Donna. She turned on her heel and marched out the front entrance and around the corner of the building. Sure enough there was that train track cutting right through the already harvested cornfield not a dozen yards from her clinic.
Maybe she and Melissa should jump on that track and start walking. They could just keep going until they reached the end.
Donna squared her shoulders and dismissed the thought. This was home now. One by one she would work things out.
She hoped.
~*~
Hank shut off the lights and locked up the gym. The team was coming along. A couple of the freshmen were a little rowdy but they would learn that if they wanted to be on his team, they had to be a part of the team. This wasn’t junior high anymore.
When he crossed the deserted parking lot, he considered the town’s new doc. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to play nice either. If he were lucky maybe she would be too busy with opening her clinic and getting settled in a new town to give him any more grief. She definitely didn’t like him.
Shouldn’t bother him but it did. He headed for home. The air held the promise of cooler temps on the way. Perfect football weather: warm days and cool nights. He pulled in a long, deep breath of fresh air. He enjoyed teaching—or at least he would if he could get the principal from hell off his back.
Mostly he enjoyed the kids. But his heart was still in the game. Coaching filled the void to some extent. If he hadn’t been so damned bullheaded things would be different now. When his playing career ended, he’d arrogantly refused all other offers, ESPN included. His bum knee hadn’t allowed him to make a comeback and the other offers never came again.
“Give it a rest, Bradley.” He had burned that bridge three years ago. There wouldn’t be any going back now. He had to make the best of things as they were.
He turned up Main Street and caught a glimpse of someone else admiring the gorgeous September afternoon. He grinned. Things were looking up already. Not far ahead of him, the doc strolled along at a leisurely pace. Might as well put his charm-the-doc plan into action. He quickened his pace to catch up with her. Not too quickly though, he liked the view from this angle.
He’d love to see all that long, chestnut-colored hair hanging loose around her shoulders instead of pulled tight in that long braid. Big brown eyes, flecked with gold. Pouty lips. Before he met her, Hank had imagined Donna as tall and willowy like her sister. He’d been way off. Not much over five feet, she probably wouldn’t weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet, but she was all sweet, soft curves.
Patty Russell had taken every opportunity during the last two weeks to mention her wonderful sister, the doctor. Hank knew a matchmaker when he saw one. He had certainly been plagued with enough of them since moving back home. He liked choosing his own conquests. A time or two he had come close to telling Patty to give it a rest. But now he was having second thoughts—at least, part of him was.
“Doc,” he called, as he caught up to her, “wait up.”
She stopped, but didn’t turn around. He knew when a woman was attracted to him. And this one definitely was—whether she wanted to be or not. Chemistry had exploded between them last night like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
“You just out for a leisurely stroll or did you have another flat tire.” He turned on his most charming smile as he came up alongside her.
She spared him the briefest of glances. “Melissa’s at a birthday party with her cousins. I thought I’d take a walk around town. Get to know the place.”
For all his effort, she didn’t even smile back. She resumed her journey, content to leave him behind.
The doc might be attracted to him, but she definitely didn’t like him. Hank watched her walk away. She didn’t like him at all. He grinned. She would just have to learn to like him. He hustled to fall back into stride next to her.
She ignored him. Something witty to say about now would be good. She appeared engrossed in admiring the scenery. Maybe he would dazzle her with Huntley history.
“If you like old houses, this is the street to live on.” Hank followed her gaze as she stopped to admire the big old Victorian and Colonial houses that dotted the landscape.
“I love old houses.” An almost reverent wonder haunted her voice.
He had never in his life been jealous of the way a woman looked at a house, but damn if he didn’t wish she would look at him that way.
“This street has a reputation as one of the most beautiful in the state.”
“I can see why.”
“In a few weeks the leaves will start to turn. When they reach their peak, it’s an awesome sight.”
She finally allowed her gaze to meet his. And then she smiled. Hank’s heart stumbled.
“I can’t wait to see.”
She tilted her head to look past him at the squirrels scampering around in old man Stedman’s yard. There wasn’t much of a resemblance between mother and daughter. Melissa evidently got her blonde hair and blue eyes from her father.
Nothing—not even the name of the fathe
r—appeared on the child’s registration papers. What did it take, Hank wondered, to make a woman hate a man so much that she wouldn’t even give their child his name? Maybe the man didn’t want the child. Ridiculous, Hank concluded. Who wouldn’t want a sweet little girl like Melissa?
Who wouldn’t want a woman like Donna Jacobs? What fatal flaw lay beneath that beauty and professional title?
“By the way,” he said, “I saw a marked improvement in Melissa’s behavior today. I guess all she needed was you.”
“Good.” She glanced around as if looking for an excuse to escape. “This is my street.” She nodded toward Lucas.
“Mine, too.”
“You live on Lucas?” She looked startled at the news.
Something else her sister hadn’t told her. “Three houses down from you.” He couldn’t help but smile at her dismayed expression. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not.” She looked away and hurried forward.
Hank frowned as he followed along behind her. In all his thirty years he never had to worry about people liking him. Popularity came naturally, even when he didn’t necessarily want it to. He never had to work at it, it just was. This lady sure knew how to put a dent in a guy’s ego.
Not that he intended to give up. He liked a good challenge. “What made you decide to become a doctor?” he asked, pausing to kick a small rock and send it skipping down the sidewalk.
She cut him a look that suggested she considered the question none of his business. “Probably not the same thing that made you decide to become a professional football player.”
Ouch. So the lady had no respect for pro athletes. “Guess not.”
She stopped and looked at him. “If that’s the life you prefer, then why did you become a teacher?”
Hank jammed his hands into his pockets and studied her more closely for some indication as to why she had taken an instant dislike to him. “It seemed like the right thing to do,” he finally said. “My degree is in education.”