Reed.
Janey’s breath caught as she struggled to hide her warring emotions. It had been inevitable that one day she would see him again. For one thing, he was her daughter’s principal. For another, this was a small town. Sooner or later, everyone’s paths crossed, like it or not.
“Janey?”
She strove to make her voice sound as normal as possible, though she wasn’t sure she could pull it off. “Hello, Dillon.”
He hadn’t changed all that much in the three-plus years since she’d last seen him. His hair was still unruly and night-dark, but now with a few sprinkles of gray—not unexpected, since he was forty.
His blue eyes certainly hadn’t changed in intensity. They still had the power to cut straight to a person’s soul. Possibly that was why he was so good with kids. He appeared taller and more muscular than she recalled, as if he’d been using the weights.
He was dressed in jeans, a shirt, a casual sports jacket and boots. He looked like he ought to be running a ranch instead of a school. The only thing missing was the Stetson.
Had he always been such a hunk?
Hunk or not, character lines scored his lean features, and there was a rugged hardness about his mouth.
“Is this place yours?” Dillon asked, shattering the tense silence.
“Yes, as of a little over a month ago.”
“Well, I have to say I’m shocked. I never expected you to come back to Hunter.”
“I never expected to, either.”
She turned away, unable to meet the challenge of those deep-set eyes or that earnest gaze.
“So how’ve you been?” he asked in his caramel-smooth tone.
Was there a slight strain in that voice, or had she imagined it? She faced him again, though with reluctance. Was he as uncomfortable with the situation as she was? No doubt she was agitated and on guard, but she couldn’t gauge his reaction at all. He was a master at hiding his thoughts.
“I have no complaints,” she said at last, forcing herself to loosen up.
“You look great.”
She looked away, then back. “Thanks.”
“So how’s Robin?”
“Attending your school and performing with the drill team.”
He looked sheepish for a moment. “Sorry, somehow that fact got by me.”
“That’s understandable. You have hundreds of students.” She felt as though she was rattling on, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “You can’t be expected to remember them all.”
He shifted from one booted foot to the other, then stared at her out of bleak eyes. “Look, Janey—”
“It’s all right,” she interrupted quickly, taking a deep breath. “There’s nothing else to say. So let’s just give things a rest, okay?”
He didn’t respond for a moment. Then he shrugged. “It’s your call.”
“So what can I do for you?”
His eyes had darkened now, and she experienced an involuntary shiver. “Sell me a box of candy.”
Janey forced a smile. “Now that I can do.”
A few minutes later, after she locked up behind him and watched him drive off, Janey leaned against the door, her heart pounding like a jackhammer inside her chest.
Three
“I wish I were built like you.”
Robin gave her friend Beverly Olson an exasperated look. “You look fine the way you are.”
“I look fat the way I am,” Beverly responded in a sarcastic tone.
Underneath that sarcasm, Robin picked up on the note of despair in her friend’s voice. She stopped what she was doing, walked over and sat beside Beverly on the steps of her front porch. An uneasy silence fell between them.
Beverly seemed unusually sensitive about her weight today, Robin thought. Maybe it was because the first big game was imminent, and Beverly was getting nervous about performing in front of the home folks. For whatever reason, Robin was at a loss as to how to comfort her.
She and Beverly had more or less established a set time to practice their routines in Bev’s front yard. This Saturday was no exception.
“How do you stay so damn skinny?” Beverly asked, giving Robin a playful nudge on the shoulder. “You eat like you’ve been felling trees and don’t gain an ounce.”
Robin smiled, glad to see her friend’s good humor return. She knew, however, that Beverly was really serious when it came to her weight problem.
“You might need to lose a few pounds,” Robin said, “but you’re still the best one on the squad.”
“Baloney.”
“No, it’s not baloney.” Robin stood and peered down at Beverly. “You’re as limber as a rag doll and can do any routine perfectly on the first try. Trust me, that counts for something.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather be thin and clumsy.”
Robin placed her hands on her hips and pretended to be offended. “Are you saying I’m clumsy?”
“Nah,” Beverly replied, her grin sheepish. “You’ve got it all together.”
“That’s baloney, too. I’m the one Mrs. Morrison’s always ragging.”
“Well, what do you expect? She’s blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other.”
They both giggled, then sobered.
“I guess we’d better get back to the grindstone,” Beverly said, getting up. “This coming Friday’s looming large.”
“Right. And since I haven’t quite gotten the hang of that new step, I need help.”
Robin didn’t really, but she wanted Beverly to feel needed. In spite of Beverly’s weight, Robin thought her best friend was pretty. Beverly was tall, with mid-length, sandy-colored hair that was silky and shiny. Her eyes were a dark gray, and her skin was flawless. Most of all, she had a sharp wit and sense of humor that made her a blast to be around.
Robin adored her, especially since Beverly was the only one who had befriended her when she’d returned from Colorado. Most of the others in the class had treated her like an outcast.
They were just jealous, Beverly had told her, because she was so “everything” they weren’t. Robin hadn’t believed that for a second—but she didn’t know what
