Grigsby was a bigger town than Wynott, with a more industrial flavor. Instead of a grain elevator and quaint, brick-fronted Main Street, it was cluttered with pole buildings and crumbling brick garages. Molly finally turned into an empty parking lot that surrounded a yellow brick building, the largest in town.
Grigsby Elementary.
Surprised, Jess slowly passed the school. Maybe Molly, a long-time substitute teacher, had arranged to meet with a former coworker. It seemed like an unlikely spot for an assignation, but there was no accounting for taste. And it was summer, so the building was probably empty.
Jess parked her truck on a side street behind a tree as Molly walked into the school, which was apparently unlocked. In moments, a van pulled into the lot.
Dang. Jess should have brought binoculars. She could barely see the outline of the driver as the van stopped in front of the door, and the vehicle blocked her view of whoever emerged from the back seat and entered the school.
The van drove off, which seemed odd. Had someone dropped off Molly’s paramour? How many people were in on this affair, and how would her dad feel if the whole town knew about it?
Shutting off the ignition, Jess watched the entrance for a while, wondering what to do. It was summertime, so school was out of session. Maybe Molly was having an affair with a teacher she’d worked with before she got married.
Suspicion coiled and circled in Jess’s mind like a snake about to strike as she stepped out of the truck and stared at the now-closed door. Now that this was actually happening, she felt suddenly rooted to where she stood, unwilling to confront her stepmom and learn the truth. It would change everything—for her and for her father.
Her belly burning with indignation, she marched across the parking lot. She didn’t know what was going on, but she aimed to find out—and save her father from making the biggest mistake of his life.
Chapter 21
Stepping into the school, Jess was swept away by a wave of nostalgia. The mingled scents of paste, crayons, and floor wax carried her back to a simpler time, when teachers had told her what to do and she’d obeyed without question. She’d admired her teachers, all of them, but she had a feeling that image was about to be shattered.
Heading down the hall, she peered into the narrow sidelight beside each closed classroom door. Old-fashioned oak teachers’ desks still fronted neat rows of Formica-topped ones for kids. The color scheme of the plastic chairs was turquoise and orange, like an old Howard Johnson’s motel.
The hall turned sharply to the right, and a child’s voice intruded on the silence, reading aloud, stumbling on the hard words.
Huh. Must be summer school.
There was a pause in the reading, then a rustling of small bodies and scraping of chairs before a new voice took over. This one was smoother than the first, adding dramatic flair to the story.
Jess peeked into the classroom to see a boy standing at the teacher’s desk with that back-bowed, tummy-first posture peculiar to little boys. Despite thick-lensed glasses, he held a battered paperback book so close to his face that he risked pinching his nose in the crease. He occasionally paused, sniffed, and pushed the glasses up the slope of his freckled nose.
When Jess moved a little closer to the window, he glanced over and widened his eyes.
“There’s someone at the door, ma’am.”
Fudge. Now Jess would have to explain why she was there. If the teacher knew Molly, the rumor mill would start churning. The Baileys had provided plenty of grist when Jess’s mother had left. With Molly’s betrayal, they’d be big news all over again.
She wanted to cry. Either that or kill somebody. Preferably her stepmother.
“Tell them to come in, Josh.”
Huh. That sounded like—
“Okay, Mrs. Bailey.” The kid waved. “Come in, ma’am.”
Jess set her face in a pleasant smile, but she had a feeling she looked stunned, awkward, and guilty. “Um, Molly?”
“Jess!”
Six boys and one girl sat at the child-sized desks, with Molly in the back row. Smiling, she scrambled to her feet and scampered to the front.
“Class, this is wonderful! I told you we’d get to know each other, and what did I say was the most important thing about a person?”
“Family!” shouted a boy in a Harley T-shirt at the back.
“That’s right. Family is the biggest and best part of a person’s life. Sometimes you’re born with a family; other times, you create one of your own.”
Jess realized at least a couple of the kids were probably from Phoenix House, Wynott’s home for foster kids. The van must have picked them up, brought them to summer school.
She felt like a fool. She was a fool.
“This is Jess Bailey, and she’s my stepdaughter,” Molly continued. “Does anyone know what that means?”
“She isn’t your real daughter,” shouted a skinny kid with braces.
“Hmm. She looks real to me.” Molly cocked her head and smiled. “It means she’s not my blood relation. We’re family because we chose to be. And that’s very, very real.”
Jess flushed as her stepmother continued.
“Jess is a very important part of our family, because she helps my husband run the ranch. She rides horses better than anyone I’ve ever seen.”
Jess’s eyes stung. She’d built a tower of assumptions, including a firm belief that her stepmom was a liar and a cheat. Obviously, she’d been wrong.
“Maybe you could come sometime and tell the class about your horse.” Molly turned back to the class. “His name is Buster. He’s the most beautiful animal, and he comes when she whistles!”
Josh, the smooth reader at the front of the room, burst into the conversation.
“My friend Jeff has a horse like that. It used to be bad, but now it does everything he says, and it comes when he calls it. It’s a yellow horse, but Jeff says it’s golden.”
“That horse sounds marvelous, Josh. I think you might call him a palomino. Is that right, Jess?”
Molly turned to Jess with such an earnest expression that what little remained of the tower of assumptions crashed to the ground.
“Um, yeah. That’s right. Or maybe a buckskin.”
“Now I think Jess must want to talk to me, since she followed me here.” Molly’s eyes sparkled, and Jess wondered if Molly knew why she’d come. Thank goodness she had a genuine message from the hospital for an excuse.
Molly pointed to the lone girl student, whose hair was styled in beaded braids that clicked when she glanced up. There was guilt in her brown eyes, as if she was used to being in trouble.
“Destiny, you’re in charge.”
Destiny widened her eyes in panic, but Molly stayed calm.
“Please lead your classmates to the art table.” Molly lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “Your mission is to draw a picture of the horse you’d like to have for yourself. It doesn’t have to be a real horse. Remember we talked about imagination?”
The class nodded.
“There’ll a prize for the most original drawing,” she continued. “Show me just how wild your imagination can get, and draw a horse like I’ve never even dreamed of!”
Jess watched the little gang march to the back of the room under Destiny’s leadership. They gathered art supplies with minimal tussling, and soon six heads bent over sheets of paper. The only sound in the room was the gentle scrape of crayons. The only laggard was Josh, who shuffled reluctantly to the back of the room.
“I’m not a good drawer,” he said as he passed Molly.
“Nobody’s good at everything, and you’re a wonderful reader,” Molly said. “Just remember ‘most original’ is about ideas, not how well you draw. I think a golden horse would be a good start.”
Shrugging, Josh sat in the one remaining chair and began fishing through
the crayons as Molly led Jess out into the hall, her face shifting from perky and smiling to grave and concerned as soon as the door closed behind them.
“Is your dad all right?”
“His blood pressure’s sky-high.” Remembering the nurse’s clipped tones, Jess felt a little more confident in her mission. “The nurse said he’s upset because you’re not there.”
“Oh dear.” Molly glanced through the narrow window at the kids and wrung her hands. “I was afraid that would happen.”
“What are you doing here?” Jess asked. “I mean, they’re cute kids and all, but Dad’s sick. He needs you.”
“The doctor said he didn’t.” Molly thrust her hands into the pockets of her skirt and stared at the floor like a chastened child. “He said your dad wouldn’t sleep when I was there, and he was so stern, Jess. He said, ‘Don’t you have a job?’ And I didn’t, because your dad wanted me to quit, but…” Leaning back against the wall, she sighed. “I feel like I’m cheating on him just by being here, but it was doctor’s orders. Your dad—I know supporting me is a point of pride for him, but I’ve missed the kids so much. So I called David and asked to come back.”
I miss the children.
Jess resisted the urge to smack her own forehead and groan.
“Who’s David?”
“The principal. He was looking for someone to help with the boys from Phoenix House and a couple kids from Springtime Acres whose parents can’t afford child care.” She lowered her voice. “We call them the Loose-Ends Gang, because they don’t have anything to do when school’s out. And you know what they say about idle hands.”
“I need red! Where’s the red crayon?” a boy bellowed from the classroom.
Molly and Jess watched through the window as Destiny threw a stubby crayon toward the boy, missing him by a mile. Three boys took the opportunity to race across the room, chasing the crayon as it rolled across the floor.
Molly edged the door open. “Boys.”
Shamefaced, they returned to their seats and resumed work.
Molly closed the door gently. “That darn doctor. How am I going to get out of here?”
She glanced at the boys, nibbled on her thumbnail, then turned a thoughtful gaze on Jess.
“Oh no.” Jess put her hands up as if to stop an oncoming train. “Call that David guy or something. I’m no good with kids.”
“It’s less than an hour. You’d just have to judge the contest, supervise lunch, and then get them to the bus.”
“I’m not a teacher.”
“You don’t have to be. David was using volunteers before I called.”
Jess peered into the classroom. The kids were behaving remarkably well, but beneath their furrowed foreheads and protruding tongues as they colored, she could see the tough little nuts they really were.
“They’ll be good,” Molly said. “You just have to have confidence. If you believe in yourself, they will, too.” She giggled. “It’s like walking through cows.”
“What?”
“Like walking through cows,” Molly repeated. “Your dad had a whole bunch of them gathered up for branding one time, and didn’t he forget something in the house and send me back to get it? I had to wade through all those cows. Big as Buicks, every one, but your dad said to pretend I wasn’t scared. And you know, it worked.” She smiled. “Kids are just the same.”
Molly sailed back into the room. Gathering up her handbag, she turned to the class and clapped her hands. Immediately, their chattering hushed.
“Class, I need to go take care of an emergency, so Miss Bailey’s going to judge your work and have lunch with you.” She showed Jess a brown paper bag on her desk. “There’s a sandwich for you there.” She turned back to the class. “Miss Bailey’s going to report back to me on your behavior for the rest of the day, and I don’t want to hear that any of you treated her with disrespect, okay?”
“Okay.” The response was grudging but unanimous.
Jess felt a rush of panic. “Molly, I’m no good at this,” she hissed.
“You’ll be fine.” Molly patted her cheek. “Remember, it’s like walking through cows.”
For half an hour, Jess watched the kids work. They seemed to be on their best behavior, and it was a lot more fun than she’d expected until she had to decide whether a horse with wheels and handlebars was more original than one with wings like a fighter jet. She had to smile at Destiny’s picture; it was clearly inspired by Barbie’s Dream Horse and looked a lot like Pride.
She solved her dilemma by having the kids vote, and three creations made the cut. The boys said there had never been a three-way tie before and seemed impressed with her judging ability.
Lunch went well once she quashed their attempt to test her mettle with a food fight. A tossed cookie was returned to its owner without comment, and the shenanigans stopped as she entertained them with stories about Buster the Wonder Horse.
They almost missed the bus because she lost track of time. After herding the last kid into the van, she walked out to her dad’s truck and headed for the hospital with shame and relief warring in her mind, making her a little light-headed.
She’d been convinced Molly was cheating. Before that, she’d resented her stepmother for sponging off her dad. But she’d been wrong on both counts. In fact, she had to admire her soft-spoken stepmother for managing the Loose-Ends Gang so well, for loving her work so much, and for being so wise about the art of walking through cows.
When had she started expecting the worst from people—even people who loved her? Her dad wouldn’t choose a woman who lied and cheated, and Molly wasn’t gunning for the Bailey family fortune. She’d given up work she loved to make Jess’s father happy.
Hauling her hair back in her fist, Jess gave the resulting ponytail a painful tug and told herself Molly had her dad’s best interests at heart. And she was right; he would never give up the work he loved as long as he lived on the ranch. The idea of a retirement community was a good one. A safe one, if not the one Heck would choose himself.
But maybe there was another way. She remembered Cade’s eyes, the warmth of his hands on her skin, the way they fit together, as if nothing had ever changed. As if they were meant to be together.
We could help each other more than you realize. With you here and me helping out, Heck could stay.
All of a sudden, the ocean waves that had loomed so large in her mind seemed to recede from the shore. Hadn’t she heard Hawaiian beaches were always crowded? And that ocean smell was kind of fishy. Did she really want to give up her home, her horse, and her cowboy for that? When she imagined waking to Cade every morning, kissing him before she slept each night, she wondered why she’d ever left.
She’d been wrong about Molly, and she’d been wrong about Cade. Was it so hard to believe she’d been wrong about herself and what she really wanted?
It was time to trust people more, to open her heart and let love in.
Chapter 22
Jess’s dad was asleep when she reached the hospital. Molly, sitting by his bed, looked a little peaked. She gave Jess a weary smile.
“The doctor gave him something to help him sleep. He wouldn’t notice if an elephant walked in the room.”
“Good.”
It was like talking to a stranger. Jess’s evil stepmother was gone, leaving Jess herself the villain in this story—the evil stepdaughter, turning the fairy tale on its head.
No wonder she hadn’t found her own happy ending. She didn’t deserve one.
“You and I need to talk. I thought the coffee shop would be good.” Molly sounded a little stern. “Your dad won’t notice we’re gone.”
Jess glanced at her father, who looked strangely angelic with his eyes closed, a serene smile on his face. The little hair he had left curled around his head in tousled disarray.
“Okay. I could use a latte.”
/>
Jess thought she’d covered up her undercover mission with the message from the hospital, but it was obvious Molly had figured out her motives. She was a little worried about the upcoming conversation. Molly was a teacher, after all, and they always had a unique ability to show you all your mistakes.
At the café, Jess angled through the crowd to grab a corner table while Molly stood in line. Clearing off some empty coffee cups and crumpled napkins, she pretended to study the courtyard outside while her mind raced through possible excuses for her behavior.
It was a short race. She really had no excuse, and by the time Molly set a tray bearing two lattes and a pair of enormous chocolate chip cookies on the table, Jess was so worked up, she jumped like a nervous cat. Molly simply smiled.
“It’s been a hard day. I thought we deserved cookies.”
You deserve cookies. I deserve a swift kick in the pants.
Opening her latte, Jess blew on the hot liquid and tried to calm the thoughts that stampeded through her mind like panicked horses. She felt a flush rising to her face, but it felt like anger, not embarrassment, and she wasn’t sure why.
“What’s the matter?” Molly asked.
“I don’t know.” Jess sipped her drink and replaced the lid, wishing she could cool her feelings that easily.
“You’re upset I left your dad alone today.”
“It isn’t that.” Jess searched her mind for the source of her emotions. “It’s just—why didn’t you react when you saw me at the door? You had to know something was wrong, but you let that kid keep reading. It was like they mattered more than my dad.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. That’s awful. They’re kids, and they matter more than anybody. It’s just…”
“Everybody matters.” Molly broke a cookie in half and took a bite. “But you’re right, these kids matter a lot. Two are on the autism spectrum, one has a really severe case of ADHD, and the others—well, they tend to act out. They need a teacher who’s calm and in control. I wanted to react, believe me. But I can’t let my personal issues ruin their chance to learn.”
Cowboy Summer Page 14