pulled on one of her favorite dresses, a white cotton sheath with an embroidered neckline, and stepped into flat white sandals. Feeling very feminine, she French-braided her hair in a single braid that hung down her back, then applied a minimum of makeup and a spritz of perfume. And when she looked in the mirror, she couldn’t stop smiling. She felt pretty this morning and it showed.
The glow of the morning stayed with her all the way to work and well into her first class. There must have been something in the air, because her students were all alert and eager, and everything seemed to flow as smooth as silk. Then there was a knock at her classroom door and she turned to find Mildred Henderson, an aide from the school office, hesitating at the threshold with a note from the principal.
Surprised, Rebecca took the note and arched a brow at the curtly written message instructing her to report to the office immediately. “Mr. Foster wants to see me now?” she asked Mildred. “During the middle of class?”
The elderly, grandmotherly woman nodded somberly. “I don’t know what happened, dear, but he seemed very upset. Run along now. I’ll stay with the class while you’re gone.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you.” Shaken, Rebecca hurried down the hall to the office, worry eating at her stomach. Had the shooter gotten to Joe? Was that what this was about? Was he hurt? Dead?
The blood draining from her face, Rebecca gave a perfunctory knock at the principal’s door and hardly waited from him to respond before she barged inside. “Is something wrong with my family?”
Richard Foster knew all about the shooting at Joe’s birthday party—the story had been all over the newspapers and covered extensively on both the local and national news programs on TV—so he knew what she was really asking. “As far as I know, Joe Colton is fine, Ms. Powell,” he said stiffly. “You’ve been called here on school business.”
It wasn’t until he gave her a pointed look that Rebecca realized they weren’t alone. Standing to the right of Richard’s massive oak desk was a tall blond man who was glaring at her with intense dislike. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t realize I was interrupting.”
She would have excused herself, but the principal stopped her in her tracks. “This is Mr. Bishop, Rebecca,” he said coldly, introducing her to the other man. “His son, Hughie, is in your fifth period class.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” she replied. “I’ve talked to your wife several times at our parent-teacher conferences. It’s nice to meet you.”
She would have held out her hand, but nothing in Mr. Bishop’s hostile demeanor encouraged that kind of courtesy. When both men just glared at her, she looked at Richard Foster hesitantly. “I presume this is about Hughie. Is something wrong?”
“You tell us,” the principal retorted. “Did you take a slingshot away from Hughie yesterday?”
Until that moment, Rebecca had completely forgotten about it. “As a matter of fact, I did. It was a carved wooden gun, and he was threatening Tabitha Long with it. I took it away and put it in my desk. I know I should have turned it in to the office, Mr. Foster, but yesterday was so hectic, I forgot.”
Not the least impressed with her explanation, Hugh Bishop snapped, “Go get it. I want it back.”
Confiscated weapons were never returned to the students or their families. That was standard school policy, and Rebecca expected Richard to tell Mr. Bishop that. Instead, he just looked at her with steely blue eyes and said, “You heard the man. Go get it.”
Rebecca couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d slapped her. “But that’s against school policy—”
“When I want your advice on how to run this school, Ms. Powell, I’ll ask for it. In the meantime, I suggest you do as you’re told.”
If you value your job. The words weren’t spoken, but Rebecca heard them, nonetheless, and had never felt more like a chastised schoolgirl. And it hurt. She was a good teacher and she’d done the right thing by taking that gun away from Hughie. And Richard knew that. Aside from the fact that it was school policy, it was her duty as a teacher to take away anything from a student that could be used to hurt or intimidate someone. So why hadn’t he backed her up? Didn’t he realize that he could get in trouble with the school board for not carrying out his duty as a principal? What was going on here?
She wanted to ask, but he had that look on his face, the one that he always wore whenever he was thinking of his impending divorce, the one that she and the other teachers had learned to avoid like the plague. There was no point in arguing further.
“I’ll be right back,” she said stiffly, and turned and marched out of the office without saying another word.
Later, she didn’t know how she did it. She’d never been so humiliated in all her life, but she walked down the hall to her classroom with her head held high and even managed a smile for Mildred Henderson when she quietly stepped into the classroom to find her reading to the class. “If you could stay just a little longer, Mrs. Henderson, I’d appreciate it. The meeting with Mr. Foster isn’t quite over.”
“Of course,” the older woman replied easily. “Take as long as you need.”
Rebecca would have loved to make both men wait the rest of the afternoon, but she’d never blatantly defied an authority figure. And in spite of the fact that she considered Richard a friend, he was, first and foremost, her boss. Insubordination of any kind wasn’t tolerated, so she was left with no choice but to hurry back to the office once she retrieved the slingshot from her drawer.
Even then, she hadn’t moved fast enough for Hugh Bishop. The second she stepped into the office, he growled, “You took your time getting back here, didn’t you? Are you always this slow? No wonder Junior’s having trouble in school.”
Outraged, Rebecca almost told him off, but she bit the words back just in time. No, she thought, dragging in a calming breath. She wouldn’t stoop to Hugh Bishop’s behavior. And surely this time Richard would defend her. After all, as the principal, any slander of the teachers was a direct reflection on him and the school.
She looked at him expectantly, only to drop her jaw when he said, “I’m sorry for this unfortunate incident, Hugh. I promise you it won’t happen again.”
Far from satisfied, the obnoxious man said, “See that it doesn’t.” And with one last look of dislike for Rebecca, he stormed out, making sure he slammed the door behind him.
He’d actually apologized for her behavior! Furious, Rebecca hardly noticed the silence left by Hugh Bishop’s leavetaking. How dare he! she fumed. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and she damn sure intended to tell him that.
But before she could even open her mouth, he turned to her with the same degree of hostility Mr. Bishop had and coldly lifted a dark brow at her. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”
Taken aback, she couldn’t believe he was serious. At the very least, he owed her an explanation! “I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” he retorted. “Why did you blatantly ignore the school weapons policy?”
“Me?” she gasped. “I didn’t ignore anything. I took the weapon away from Hughie, just as I was supposed to. You’re the one who gave it back to that awful man just so he can bring it right back to school!”
“Because
