Will figured they’d all relax once he settled in.
“Anyway, you have to study,” he told his daughters. “I studied for years and years to become a doctor.”
“I don’t want to be a doctor,” Diane said.
“Why not?”
“I told you! Because I don’t want to go to school!”
“You liked it when you saw the place,” he said over his shoulder. He’d taken the girls to the elementary school on Thursday to register them.
The principal had assured him that the first-grade teacher, Miss Morris, was warm and nurturing, as well as an excellent educator. Too bad she hadn’t been around. He’d have liked to talk to her about the difficult transition the girls were making.
“What if we get lost?” Diane demanded, which surprised him, because usually she was the braver of the pair. “What if Mrs. McNulty can’t find us?”
“Then I’ll come get you in person,” he responded promptly. “Listen, I’ll make sure Miss Morris has my phone number, okay? If Mrs. McNulty isn’t there, ask your teacher to call me.”
“She might not have a phone,” Diane protested.
In the mirror, he saw India reach across and take her sister’s hand. “It’ll be okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll stay with you.”
His heart swelled with love for his two little sweethearts. They made everything else worthwhile.
Will realized he should have left the car at the clinic a couple of blocks away, when he pulled into the lot and found it filled. He’d noticed the high school next door but hadn’t realized until now that the two shared parking facilities.
Trying not to let the girls see his irritation, he backed out and located a free space on the street. By now, the twins had pasted their noses to the windows as they stared at the passing children.
What a lot of kids there were for such a small town, Will noted as he emerged. From kindergarteners to adolescents, they skipped, strolled or slouched toward the campus, some accompanied by parents and others with friends.
Most had a shiny, well-groomed appearance, although here and there he saw a child who might be neglected. When he’d visited the town last month, the police chief had explained that he and Dr. Vine were conducting an outreach program to help some of the needier youngsters.
Diane wriggled out of her booster seat unaided, while India waited patiently for him to release her. Both girls caught his hands, staying close as they crossed the street.
Diane made no further mention of her fears, although perhaps she was putting on a bold face in front of fellow students. Thank goodness Will didn’t have to deal with a screaming temper tantrum like the one a little red-haired girl was throwing on the sidewalk.
“First-grader?” he asked as they came alongside.
“Yes.” Her mother, a harassed-looking woman with a round face and ultrashort hair, sighed in resignation. “She’ll be all right as soon as we get into the classroom. I’ve got two older ones, and they adored Miss Morris.”
That sounded promising.
In front of the building, Will spotted a familiar face. Chief Ethan Forrest accompanied a self-assured little boy, who glad-handed a group of other kids as if preparing for a junior career in politics.
“Gotta watch that kid,” Will joked as he approached. “He’ll be running for mayor before you know it.”
“Good to see you.” Ethan started to shake hands, then noticed that Will didn’t have one free. “This is Nick.”
Will introduced the girls.
“They’ll be in the same class,” the police chief said. “Make them feel at home, will you, Nick?”
The kids made funny faces at one another. India giggled.
“Best chums already,” Will noted.
They joined the swarm going through the double doors, by-passing a father so intent on videotaping his little boy that he didn’t notice what a roadblock he created. Inside, the cheery corridor featured student drawings and paintings.
Will had forgotten to ask the number of the classroom, but with Ethan as his guide, they proceeded down the hall and around a corner. Children’s shrill voices bounced off the walls and feet clattered on the linoleum.
He flashed back to his first day at school. He’d been one of the ranchers’ kids, marked by loose-fitting jeans and a T-shirt, in contrast to the town youngsters, with their brand-name outfits. Although most parents had escorted their youngsters, his father merely idled the pickup while his elder brothers, Burt and Mike, exited with Will.
He’d clutched his lunch bag, scared to death of the unfamiliar commotion. Mike had walked him to the classroom, smacked him on the shoulder and offered, as a parting bit of advice, “Don’t pick your nose.”
That day had marked the start of a long journey that had increasingly isolated Will both from his peers and from his family. He didn’t regret deciding to focus on his education and prove the naysayers wrong, however.
Thank goodness India and Diane wouldn’t have to struggle to prove themselves. He intended to be there for them at every step.
Will followed Ethan into a classroom arrayed with desks and chairs scaled for Lilliputians. The walls blazed with alphabet and number charts, illustrations from books and a couple of travel posters. One featured Seattle’s Space Needle, and another showed the familiar sight of the Texas Capitol. He wondered fleetingly if the teacher had put them up to welcome the new kids in town.
Then he saw her.
Crouched in front of a teary little boy, she was talking earnestly. Her long black hair fell tantalizingly across her shoulders and her blue eyes went wide as she uttered what appeared to be words of sympathy. After a moment, the child stopped crying and hugged her.
Will got a tight feeling.
Leah. Downhome. Miss Morris. Impossible.
He couldn’t be mistaken about that cover-girl face or the gently sculpted lines of her body. A body he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for the past month. Exquisite. As sweet as his dreams. But good heavens, what kind of mess had he created? Yet here the woman was.
He struggled to sort out how such a coincidence could have occurred. He recalled mentioning the Wayward Drummer to Karen Lowell, a member of the physician-search committee, who’d mentioned a friend planning to visit Austin. This must be the friend.
A knot formed in Will’s gut. That night at the motel, he’d made some huge mistakes. Jumping into bed with a stranger was the most egregious. Leaving without a word hadn’t exactly put him in a defensible position, either.
That left the question of what he was going to do with his children. Could he trust her with them?
When he caught Leah’s eye, a flicker of something he couldn’t read crossed her face, quickly replaced by bland welcome. She’d been expecting
