Samantha's Gift (4 page)

Stomach in knots, Rachel tightened her grip on the wheel of her compact car, sweating in spite of the airconditioning. She mustn't think such negative thoughts. They only made everything seem worse.

Prayer would be a much better choice, yet she was unable to force her worried mind to concentrate
enough to come up with a lucid plea. Finally, she resorted to a misty-eyed
Please, God,
and left it at that.

She made good time until she turned off the highway onto the narrow, winding road that ran between Glencoe and Heart. According to old-timers, Heart had once been a thriving little town. It had even had its own post office inside a mom-and-pop grocery store. For decades, that had been a favorite local gathering place, especially on Friday nights when weekly paychecks needed to be cashed. Now, however, Heart consisted of a couple of isolated houses and a community center building that was used mainly on Wednesdays by a quilting club.

This was Tuesday. If Samantha got off the school bus in Heart, she wouldn't meet a soul who could help her.

Rachel chewed on her lower lip. “Calm down. Stop imagining the worst. You'll find her.”

Head spinning, thoughts churning, Rachel pictured possible scenarios. If Samantha truly had boarded that particular bus because Sean was on it, she'd want to stay near him. She wouldn't be likely to get off at all! Then again, if she hadn't…

The pavement ended abruptly. Rachel slowed and pulled over in front of the Heart Community Center to double-check her map. She frowned. She'd seen kindergartners draw clearer diagrams.

The building sat in a rocky, dusty triangle at the confluence of the roads. One track was supposed to
lead to Saddle, one to Salem with a cutoff to Camp, and the other to Agnos. Bus seven should be headed for Camp, which meant the first thing she needed to find was the branch of the road that led toward Salem.

She peered west.
That one.
It had to be that one. She could see the red lights flashing on the radio station antennae atop the hill called the Salem Knob.

Decision made, Rachel tromped the accelerator. Her car's wheels spun in the loose gravel and dirt, leaving behind a cloud of powdery red dust. It was a blessing that Max was driving the bus, because he knew where he was going. She'd lived around here all her life and she still sometimes got turned around when she left the highway. An inexperienced person like Sean, using the same map she'd been given, would be likely to get lost.

Seeing more dust ahead was encouraging. Rachel cautiously increased her speed. She didn't want to go too fast. The roads had recently been scraped by county graders, making the center smoother but uncovering and scattering enough sharp rocks to make driving more hazardous than usual. Previous vehicles had left tracks in passing; Rachel tried to keep her tires in those same ruts to avoid unnecessary risk.

Rounding a corner she came upon a sight that made her heart pound. Bus seven! Now, all she had to do was get it to pull over so she could be certain Samantha was still safely aboard.

Approaching the slow-moving bus she flashed her lights and honked. Small faces peered out the bus's
rear windows at her, grinning and waving. She signaled as best she could, but the children apparently thought she was merely being friendly because they returned her greeting with renewed vigor.

According to the map, it was miles before the next bus stop. Rachel was too frustrated to wait that long to learn Samantha's fate, yet it was unsafe to pass the lumbering bus on such a treacherous road.

“Give me patience, Lord, and hurry,” she muttered, laughing at the contradiction.
God is in charge, God is in charge,
she reminded herself.

Finally, she laid on the horn and held it. That worked. Max pulled the bus over. Rachel stopped behind it, jumped out and was immediately enveloped in a noxious cloud of exhaust fumes and unsettled dust.

Ignoring the discomfort, she forged ahead, waving her arms wildly, and circled to the front of the bus. Max had already opened the folding doors.

Sean was standing on the top step, steadying himself by holding on to a chrome support pole. He wasn't smiling. “Are you nuts?”

“Yes.” Rachel coughed as she boarded and pushed him aside. “Where's Samantha?”

“Right there.” He pointed. “Mind telling me what's going on? Or do you always drive like a maniac?”

Aside from being choked up by the fumes, Rachel was also dizzy and breathless with relief. She wavered, then plunked down next to Samantha, speaking
to the wide-eyed child. “I was so worried. This isn't your bus, honey. It won't take you to Mrs. Brody's.”

The little girl's eyes grew moist. She blinked. “Oh.”

Sean made himself part of their conversation and addressed Rachel. “Then, why did you let her get on it in the first place?”

She raised her gaze, her expression a clear challenge. “I made a mistake, okay? I know that now. I thought I'd be… Oh, never mind.” Getting to her feet she reached for the little girl's hand. “Come on, honey. I'll take you home.”

Sean blocked her path. “Over my dead body. You're far too agitated to drive. The way you were acting just now you shouldn't even have been behind the wheel of a car, let alone consider transporting kids.”

“I beg your pardon.”

Facing him, Rachel stood as tall as her short stature would permit and tried to appear formidable. Pitted against his broad chest and wide stance, her effort seemed more pitiful than confrontational. He'd removed his jacket and tie and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. If anything, that made him look even more rugged, more powerful than usual.

“You should beg everybody's pardon, lady.”

Before Rachel could reply, Max cut in. “Save your breath, folks. Miz Rachel ain't goin' nowhere. Looks like she's gettin' herself a dandy flat tire.” He leaned
to the left to get a better look at her car in his rearview mirror.

“That's impossible,” she insisted. “I was very careful. And I wasn't speeding.”

“Out here it don't matter much,” Max said. “You'd best go check before I head on down the road with these here kids. It's a mighty long walk to town.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake.” She edged past Sean and hurried back to inspect her car. It was definitely listing to one side. Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, no.”

Sean had quietly followed. “I'd help you change that tire,” he said, “but unless you carry two spares, we'd still be one short.”

“What?”

He pointed at one of the rear wheels. “Looks to me like you've got a second tire going flat.”

Thunderstruck, Rachel realized he could be right. Her eyes widened. “I don't believe this!”

“I do. I may be from the city but even I know better than to go racing around on rocky roads like these.”

“I wasn't racing!” Disgusted with everyone and everything, she let it show in her expression.

“Tell that to your car,” Sean said.

“Okay, okay. You don't have to rub it in.” Pausing, she considered her current options. “I suppose I could walk to the nearest house and call a garage.”

“You could. Or, you could just leave your car where it sits and ride back to school on the bus with
us. That way, you and I could take Samantha home in my car, then I could drive you back here afterward.”

“What good will that do if there's more than one ruined tire?”

“Simple. We'll take them off, load them in my trunk and find a garage that'll patch them.”

Rachel was astounded. “You'd do that for me?”

“No problem. I'm glad to help—as long as I don't have to
ride
with you,” Sean chided, ignoring the face she was making at him. “I don't think I'm that brave.” He chuckled softly, enjoying her discomfiture. “I don't think
anybody
is.”

B
y the time Max had dropped off his last regular passengers and returned to Serenity Elementary, it was nearly five p.m. There were only two cars in the parking lot—Sean's black sedan and a silver-colored, dusty van.

Rachel led Samantha up the front walk toward the school office as she spoke over her shoulder to Sean. “Before we go, I need to phone Mrs. Brody so she knows everything is all right.”

“I don't think that'll be necessary,” he said, gesturing. “We've never met, but I'd say she's just found us.”

Oh dear.
He was right. She was about to face
another
irate grown-up. Hannah Brody had thrown open the door of the van and was shuffling rapidly across the parking lot, shirttail flapping, bangs glued to her
forehead with perspiration. Rachel had never seen the poor woman look more frazzled.

“Hannah! I'm sorry if we worried you,” Rachel shouted before she reached them. “Samantha accidentally got on the wrong bus. I was just bringing her back.”

“You couldn't
call
me? Let me know?” The older, slightly portly woman wheezed to a stop as she confronted Rachel. “Do you know how hot it got in that there van? I coulda croaked, waitin' on y'all.”

“I'm really sorry,” Rachel said. “I was worried, too. Guess I wasn't thinking clearly.”

Hannah leaned down to focus on the child. “And you. How old are you?”

“F-five.”

“So, how did we say you could remember the number of your bus?”

The child stared at the toes of her worn sneakers. “Five. Same as me.”

“That's right.”

“What a good idea,” Rachel interjected, trying to sound upbeat.

Hannah straightened and glared at her, hands fisted on ample hips. “Now you, missy. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

“There is no excuse for what you did.”

Sean stepped up beside Rachel, clearly taking sides. “Most teachers would probably have left the
child's welfare in the hands of the bus driver. Ms. Woodward, however, took it upon herself to try to put things right. That speaks very well for her, don't you agree?”

For the first time, Hannah took notice of Sean. She gave him a critical once-over. “And who might you be?”

He introduced himself and extended a hand of friendship. The annoyed woman begrudgingly accepted it. Then, instead of stuffing his hands into his pockets the way he initially had when he'd run into the pretty teacher in the hallway, he took half a step closer to Rachel and nonchalantly looped one arm around her shoulders. The gesture was casual yet obviously protective.

Mrs. Brody noticed immediately. Her eyebrows arched. “Oh, I see. You two were too busy playing patty-cake to pay attention to anything else.” She grabbed the child's hand and started away. “Well, what's done is done. Come on, Samantha. It's too late to take you shopping for new clothes today like I'd promised. I got to go start supper.”

The little girl glanced back over her shoulder, silently pleading with her teacher and Sean to rescue her as Hannah Brody led her away. That soulful look was enough to put Rachel's heart in a twist and leave a lump in her throat.

For an instant she wanted to weep. Instead, she
waved, smiled and called, “Bye-bye. See you tomorrow, Samantha.”

“Will she be okay with that old grump?” Sean asked softly.

“Hannah?” Rachel glanced up at him while deliberately removing his hand from her shoulder. “Hannah's not a bad person. She gets a little irritable sometimes but she's basically good-hearted. She's been taking in the kids nobody else wanted to bother with for years.”

“Samantha's one of those?”

“Apparently. Her social worker did say she was having trouble adjusting. That's probably why they gave her to Hannah.”

“I see. What else can you tell me about the Brody woman?”

“Well…” Rachel's smile stayed. “She baby-sat for lots of folks here in Serenity who're all grown up, now. Me included.”

“You're kidding! No wonder you let her talk to you like that.”

“Hannah means well. And she was right. I should have called her so she wouldn't worry. I was so worried about finding Samantha, I guess it just slipped my mind.”

“That's understandable. Don't beat yourself up about it.”

“I won't. The only thing that bothers me is the way
the small-town rumor mill is going to have fun with us.”

“Us?” Sean's expression showed bewilderment. “What
us?
”

With a wry chuckle, Rachel shook her head. “You do have a lot to learn about living in a place like this, don't you. There doesn't even have to be an
us
for people to talk. By tomorrow morning, half the folks in town will be saying you and I are practically engaged. And the other half will be trying to decide if you're good enough for me.”

She'd expected Sean to enjoy the lighthearted banter. Instead, he seemed upset. She pressed on. “Hey, don't look so glum. I didn't say it was my idea. It's just how it is in a place where everybody knows everybody else, and half of them are related, besides.” That statement brought a further conclusion. “Oh-oh.”

“What's wrong now?”

“I just had a horrible thought. Hannah's my mother's second cousin by marriage.”

“So?”

“So, I'll bet Mom is the first one she calls.”

Sean huffed. “Don't tell me you're still worried about pleasing your mother at your age?”

“Hey. I'm not
that
old.”

He deliberately took his time looking her up and down and fully appreciating what he saw. Chances were good that he was at least seven or eight years
older than she was, maybe more, yet they had to be contemporaries in spite of her youthful appearance. For starters, he knew this wasn't Rachel's first year of teaching. A person didn't usually finish college and earn a degree until they were in their twenties at least, so she had to be halfway to thirty by now.

“You don't look a day over sixteen,” he finally told her.

“Actually, I'll be eighty-four my next birthday,” she said. Struggling to repress a giggle, she twirled in a circle to put herself on display. “Pretty good for an octogenarian, huh?”

“Excellent.” Sean was shaking his head in disbelief and laughing softly under his breath. “You certainly had me fooled. What's your secret?”

“Clean living. I never miss a Sunday in church, either.”

“Very commendable.”

“I think so. Hey! Since you're new in town, how'd you like to come visit my church?”

“Church and I don't exactly get along.”

“That's too bad. We won't eat you, you know. We really do accept everybody, even
sinners.
” The astonishment in his expression made her chuckle. “That was a joke, Bates.”

“I'll laugh later, okay?” He reached into his pocket for his car keys and jingled them in one hand. “You ready?”

“As soon as I go grab my purse,” Rachel said. “Wait here. I'll just be a minute.”

Starting away she heard him mutter, “I don't believe it.”

She spun around. “You don't believe what?”

“You. You were driving all over the country without your license?”

“Guess I was. I told you Christians aren't perfect. You'd better start believing me or I may have to keep trying to prove it to you.”

 

Rachel's car was right where she'd left it, without so much as a hubcap missing—much to Sean's surprise. A prankster had scrawled “Wash me” and drawn a happy face in the fresh layer of dust coating the lid of the trunk, but otherwise the car was untouched.

He parked as far off the roadway as he could without scratching his sedan on the brambles and small trees growing along the right-of-way, and got out. Rachel followed.

A closer look at her car made her sigh audibly. Her shoulders sagged. “Rats. You were right. I do have two flats.”

“Apparently.” Sean circled the car, assessing the damage. “Looks to me as if it's going to be dangerous to remove the tires, even if we use both our jacks. The ground is too uneven here. The car wouldn't be stable.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

“Calling a tow truck. If we left your car jacked up and drove into town with two of the wheels, any little thing could knock it over and damage the axles. Then we'd have to call a tow, anyway.”

Rachel was too exhausted to argue. She yawned. “Fine. Whatever. As long as I can get to work in the morning.”

“I don't suppose you happen to know the number of a local garage that does towing?” he asked, reaching into his car for his cellular phone and pushing the power button.

She snorted cynically. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

Sean waited, growing impatient when she didn't recite the number. “Well?”

“It wouldn't be my first choice.”

“This is not a popularity contest. If this place can come get your car and fix the tires, let's get on with it, okay?”

“Okay, okay.”

Rachel gave him the number, then watched as he made arrangements with the garage. To her surprise, Sean knew approximately where they were and gave credible directions, so she didn't have to interrupt to correct him.

That was a plus. So was the lengthening day. If Craig Slocum had already gone home for supper, as she hoped, her personal involvement could be kept to a minimum.

And if not? She clenched her jaw, imagining Craig's superior smirk when he discovered she needed his help. Since their failed engagement, Rachel had managed to avoid him almost completely. If he showed up this evening it would be the first time she'd spoken to him face-to-face since he broke her heart.

Her chin jutted out, her spine stiffened. If she had to face Craig, she would meet the challenge head-on. That man was never going to learn how deeply he had hurt her.
Never.

 

Sean noticed Rachel's growing uneasiness. When they heard the approach of a truck, her head snapped around and she stared in the direction of the sound as if expecting a stalking tiger instead of deliverance.

“Want to tell me why you're so jumpy?” he asked.

“I'm not jumpy.”

There was nothing to be gained by arguing with her. “Okay. Sorry.” Sean smiled. “Maybe you're just hungry. Personally, I'm starved. What do you say we grab a pizza or something while we wait for your car to be fixed?”

Rachel nodded without taking her eyes off the distant roadway as the truck rumbled closer.

Sean decided to test her. “Your treat.”

“Sure. Fine.”

His resultant laugh finally got Rachel's attention. She frowned. “What's so funny?”

“You are. I could have asked you anything just now and you'd have agreed without hearing a word I said.”

“Don't be silly.”

“Okay. We are on for dinner, then?”

“Dinner? Oh, sure. Only around here, dinner is what we eat at lunchtime. The evening meal is called supper.”

“I'll remember that.” He saw the tow truck slowing. Inside the cab, its driver was grinning from ear to ear. The man's eyes were shadowed by the brim of his baseball cap, but it was still evident he was concentrating on Rachel.

“You know him?” Sean asked.

“I told you. Everybody knows everybody around here.”

“Let me put it another way,” Sean said quietly. “Do you dislike him as much as I think you do?”

She huffed and managed a momentary smile. “Actually, Craig and I used to be engaged.”

“Engaged? You were going to marry
him?
”

“Yes.” Her frown returned. “Why is that so surprising?”

“I don't know. I guess he just doesn't look like your type.”

“Why not? Because he drives a tow truck?” The Slocums owned several lucrative businesses in Serenity and the surrounding area, and Craig drove the tow
rig because he liked to, but Rachel wasn't about to explain all that to Sean.

“Listen, Mr. Bates,” she said firmly, “if a man does an honest job and is proud of his work, I see no reason to put him down simply because he may not have a college degree like you and I do. If you choose your friends by their level of formal education, you'll miss out on a whole lot, especially around here. There are plenty of very smart folks who haven't had the opportunities you and I have had.”

Sean was grinning at her. “You through?”

“I just don't like stuck-up people, that's all.”

“Neither do I.” He chuckled softly, shook his head. “I was talking about the smug, know-it-all look on the guy's face. I didn't think you'd put up with that kind of attitude for a second. Since you two broke up, apparently I was right.”

Chagrined, she wished she hadn't jumped to conclusions. “Sorry about the lecture. Class distinction is a sore point with me.”

“So I've gathered.” Sean was still grinning. “Well, here comes your ex-fiancé. Mind if I shake hands with him?”

“Of course not.”

“Good.” He stepped forward, his hand extended. “I'm Sean Bates. Thanks for coming so promptly. We really appreciate it.”

The other man paused to glance at Rachel, then
turned back to Sean and gave his hand a pump. “Craig Slocum.”

His grip was more than firm, it was crushing. If Sean hadn't known the man's history with Rachel and anticipated the animosity, he would have been taken aback by the overt show of strength. Instead, he met it equally.

“We aim to please,” Craig said. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“A pair of flats,” Sean answered. “Like I told your dispatcher, we can't safely repair the damage as the car sits. Think you can load it up on your truck and get it back to town for us? Ms. Woodward needs her car in time for work tomorrow.”