Rancher's Deadly Risk (22 page)

She suspected the conversation would go on for days, and she was determined to have it if that was what the students wanted. So she gave them the situation: if they wanted to continue the discussion, they’d have to make up time on the lessons. They voted to make up the work with very few dissenters.

Having allowed them to choose, she was quite certain they would do so. At the end of the day, she was feeling a whole lot better about everything, and already figuring out how to alter her lesson plans for the makeup without pushing the students too hard to keep up.

“Ready to go, Teach?”

She looked up and saw Linc framed in the doorway, his jacket hanging open, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

“It’s been a good day,” she said as she gathered her last few things.

“You, too? We talked about bullying all day.”

Her heart lifted and she returned his smile. “Yes.” Then her smile faded. “Why does it always take a martyr to get a point across?”

“People can ignore a lot until they get jolted out of their ruts. How else could we survive?”

That was an excellent point. Walking with him across the parking lot as the afternoon faded rapidly toward twilight, she tried to tell herself not to expect too much, that it would take a long time to really change anything, that after the shock passed it would be easy to forget. “Shock works just so long.”

“I know,” he said as he opened the truck’s door for her. “That’s why I didn’t ignore it today. Strike while the iron’s hot.”

She slid into the seat. “Don’t you have a practice?”

“Canceled. We’re going to be playing a makeup for the game Saturday. I’ll have to get back here by six and we’ll play at seven.”

“On a school night?”

“Yeah. Only way to prevent messing up the season schedule. Want to come?” he asked as he pulled the truck onto the road.

Since she was feeling considerably better today than yesterday, she actually had to think about it. A football game would be fun, but she had to rework all those lesson plans. And when she tested the sore space inside, the place left by the events of the past couple of weeks, she found it wasn’t terribly tender. Her faith had been restored, and she was inclined to figure that nothing would happen that she couldn’t handle.

“I need to work on lesson plans,” she said. “We’re going to get into a real mess with the syllabus if I don’t figure out how to space things so the students don’t get overwhelmed. I’d better just stay home and work.”

“Not afraid?”

She glanced his way and smiled slowly. “Actually, no. Like I said yesterday, whoever did those things is a bully and a coward.”

“And today you believe it?”

“Actually, I do. It was like everything changed today. Peoples’ opinions seem to have swung around. The bully will probably crawl back under his rock now that people aren’t upset.”

He was silent as he steered them around a corner. “Probably.” He spoke the word slowly. “I don’t know, Cassie. I wouldn’t have expected anyone to vandalize your car, or put a rat on your desk. Someone has a kink.”

“Obviously. Are you trying to frighten me?”

His head shake was quick and certain. “No. I just want you to be cautious. People around here may be experiencing a shift in opinion, but that doesn’t mean he has.”

She couldn’t argue with that, but she felt more confident than she had since this whole affair had started. And despite her burst of fear yesterday, she had begun to realize that the thing she most needed to do for herself was stand up. If she had begun to lose sight of that, her students today had definitely reminded her. They needed her, and other teachers, to help them work through this, and they had shown good hearts for the most part. Turn tail now? No way.

“None of it hurt
me,
” she reminded him, and maybe herself. “All of it was done in a way that would seem to indicate the bully doesn’t want to be identified.”

She gasped with surprise as they came around the corner. Her car was sitting in the driveway, and it sparkled. “Oh, my! Morris even washed it!”

Linc chuckled quietly. “I told you most people around here are good folks.”

He pulled in behind her car, and she grabbed her backpack and climbed out before he could assist her. She walked around her compact and peered inside. “He even vacuumed it! My word!” She touched it. “I’d forgotten it could look this good.”

“The key is probably under your doormat,” Linc said.

She checked immediately and was relieved to find it. Any mischief-maker could have helped himself if that was a custom around here. Finding the key reassured her
even more.

Linc came inside with her. She dropped her bag on the battered couch and faced him, smiling. “It’s amazing how fast things can change.”

“We’ve seen a really huge swing since you found those boys bullying James,” he agreed. “First all the way down and then up.”

“What can I do to thank the mechanic?” she asked him, still thinking about the loving care he’d bestowed on her car for free. “That was really above and beyond. A bottle of wine?”

“Beer would probably go over better. I think he’d appreciate the gesture.”

“That’s what I’ll do, then.” Feeling ever so much better, she spun in a little circle. “I can’t believe that yesterday I felt like everything was crashing down on me. A weight is gone.”

She noticed, however, that he didn’t appear quite as thrilled as she was feeling. She glanced away, wondering if she had overreacted yesterday or if she was overreacting now. Yesterday she had been seriously frightened, wondering what kind of attack would come next. Then she had decided that whoever had been bothering her really hadn’t done all that much, and what he had done indicated that he was a typical bully, a coward.

She still believed that. Whoever had butchered the rat and vandalized her car had wanted to frighten her, but he hadn’t had the gumption to face her directly.

“Do you think I’m being foolish?” she asked finally.

“No.” He stepped toward her and surprised her by wrapping her in his arms and hugging her close. It felt so good to be near to him again, to feel as if he weren’t holding her at a distance. Last night’s feeling that he was drawing away had lingered throughout the day, a subtle sort of ache, a sense of impending loss like a backdrop to all the good things that had happened since this morning. Part of her wanted to pull away, but another part of her took charge and she returned his hug.

“I understand,” he said, “that yesterday it all crashed down on you. I’m not quite as sanguine that this bully will settle down now that public opinion is starting to rise against bullying. But maybe you’re right. So far he’s been a coward, that’s for sure. Trying to frighten you without facing you. Typical of bullies.”

“Exactly.” Reluctantly she stepped back, reminding herself that she shouldn’t get in any deeper. He had his reasons for fearing involvement; if there was ever a woman made to fit the bill of what worried him, it was her. She’d been here only a few months, she might decide not to stay.

Her own fault, too, because she could clearly hear herself saying more than once that she should resign and leave. After the rat, especially, she’d been unnerved enough to think about it seriously.

Equally important was that she was certain he had only spent so much time with her because he felt he needed to protect her and reassure her. He seemed like that kind of man, and the sexual attraction...well, little could be built on that. It flared, but it always quieted. She had enough married friends to have observed that.

So they’d been overcome, but that didn’t mean she had to put her heart at his feet. Asking to get trampled once again, and this time by a man who had good reason not to trust her, didn’t seem bright. If the background ache she’d been feeling was any indication, she was already in too deep. Definitely time to step back.

“Want something to eat?” she asked brightly without quite looking at him. “You’ve got to eat before the game.”

Linc felt her pull away, saw how she avoided his gaze, and wondered what the hell he’d done wrong. Then it struck him: she was pulling away because she no longer felt she needed him.

Why should that be such a shock? Martha hadn’t needed him enough to stay. Cassie had needed him since the day when that rat showed up on her desk, understandably. She was a newcomer around here without resources of her own yet. He had stepped up like some kind of hero and she’d welcomed the support and the protection he’d offered.

But now she felt everything was going to be okay. He believed the passion they had shared had been real, but beyond that? Beyond that there was evidently nothing.

He’d been a fool once again. His stomach turned to lead and his mouth soured. Another Martha? Maybe just a different version. But why should he be surprised? Why would any woman who hadn’t grown up here want to hitch her wagon to a man who was just a teacher and part-time rancher. There were certainly better prospects out there, even around here.

“No thanks,” he said. “I’ve got something back at the school. Maybe I’ll stop by for a few minutes after the game. If anything disturbs you, I’ll have my cell phone on, but I might not be able to hear it during the game.” He started toward the door, then hesitated, his conscience plaguing him.

“Cassie? Are you sure you don’t want to come to the school?”

She shook her head. He wondered why her face suddenly looked a little...wooden? Sad? He couldn’t quite read it.

“Thanks,” she said, giving him a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”

He walked out, feeling as if he had just missed something very momentous.

Wishful thinking, he told himself. That’s all it was. At some level he’d dared to believe Cassie was different from Martha.

Evidently not.

Some unspoken conversation had just been had, but Cassie was only sure of her part in it. She had pulled back, yes, but she had offered him a meal, something far less dangerous than where that hug could have led. Then he had seemed to want to get out of there as fast as possible.

Mine fields, she thought. They were both full of them. She didn’t trust him because he didn’t trust her. He had plenty of reason not to trust her, and she had plenty of experience to tell her that trusting a man too quickly led to grief.

An aching sense of fatigue washed through her. Did she really want all this complexity? Not that it appeared she was going to have much choice. She’d pulled back, he’d left. They were quickly crawling back into their safe little shells.

Early twilight was claiming the world and darkening her house. She looked out the front window, saw the streetlights start to wink on from farther down the street. Surprisingly little snow had caught in her front yard, and the sidewalks and driveway were clear. The wind... Remembering the drift outside Linc’s house, she walked around, turning on lights for comfort, and looking out windows to see where the snow had ended up.

Mostly in her backyard, she realized. Opening the back door and looking out the storm door, she realized she wouldn’t be able to open it. Because of the other houses around, the drift didn’t reach her second floor, but it came halfway up the door. From there she could see that most of the snow in this neighborhood had wound up behind and between houses. The street was swept clean, but everything else was buried.

Well, good to know, she thought, that she had only one way out and that was through the front door. She glanced at the clock, saw it was still plenty early, not quite dinnertime, so she pulled out her computer, looked up James’s home number and called. His mother answered.

“Hi, Mrs. Carney, it’s Cassie Greaves, James’s math teacher. How is he doing?”

“Much better than he was. I’m going to be homeschooling him, though.”

Cassie didn’t argue. There was no good argument. “Is he well enough to see me? And if you want me to, I’d be glad to tutor him at home in math.”

There was a definite hesitation, then Maureen’s voice thawed a bit. “That would be helpful. I’m rusty on some things.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“You come over,” she said. “You tried to protect him. Might do him some good.”

Cassie felt another pang of guilt, as aware as anyone that she might have caused the bullying to worsen by her intervention.

Struggling with the guilt, she grabbed her things and a book she thought James might like to read. Outside, the setting sun outlined the western mountains in fiery red. It almost looked like the sky was on fire.

She was glad she didn’t believe in omens.

James and his parents lived in a neat, small house in a neighborhood that looked like it had been built right after the Second World War. Cassie hiked up the drive, feeling the wind cut at her cheeks and try to snake into her jacket.

Maureen Carney opened the door, and greeted her with a tired but honest smile. “Come in, Ms. Greaves. James is in the living room, but I honestly can’t tell you how he’s feeling. He’s been awfully quiet.”

Cassie stepped in, noting that the house offered only the smallest of foyers, just enough to step inside and doff a jacket before reaching the doorways that opened off either side.

“James,” Maureen called, striving for brightness, “Ms. Greaves is here.” No voice answered her, but the woman continued to smile wanly and led Cassie into the living room.

James, looking even smaller than he had before, lay on the couch. He wore a green sweatshirt, and a ripple afghan covered his legs. There was something on the TV, but the volume was low, as if he wasn’t really paying attention.

He looked awful. His eyes were sunken, and every line of his face seemed to drag downward. His dark eyes fastened to her, but only briefly.

“Hi, James,” she said quietly. “I wanted to see how you’re doing. Your fellow students are very upset about you. We talked about it all day.”

He hunched his shoulder, as if trying to pull away, but he didn’t answer. Cassie sat on an armchair facing him, wishing she knew the right words. Finally, she pulled out the book and leaned forward to place it on his lap.

“I think you’ll like it, since you’re so good at math. It’s full of amusing stories about some great mathematicians.”