a handful of students in these dire economic times.”
Josh didn’t have to turn around to know who spoke.
“Mr. Southerland, you need to request to be recognized by the board before you speak,” Al said.
“I apologize.” Rick rose and stood, gripping the back of the chair in front of him. “May I speak?”
“The chair recognizes Rick Southerland,” Al said.
“I think it sets a bad precedent for the board to fund trips like this science bee at a time when you’ve been forced to lay off personnel,” Rick said. “Today it’s a science bee. Tomorrow it’s a spelling bee or a debate tournament or a trip to a museum.”
“Those are all educational enrichment activities,” Stephanie said.
“Yes, but they’re also expensive,” Rick said. “And we can’t afford expensive.” He glanced at Josh. “People come here from the city with big ideas about what our kids need, but what they really need is the good education we can give them right here.”
Josh wondered if Rick was planning a run for school board next election; he sounded just like a politician delivering a campaign speech.
“I’m not from the city,” Josh pointed out. “I grew up here in Hartland.”
“And do you think that entitles you to some special favoritism?” Rick sneered. “Or don’t we all already know the answer to that question?”
Josh groaned. “I don’t think—”
“He makes a good point.” Roger sat back in his chair. “Not the local thing—I don’t care about that. But I don’t think this is a good use of our funds. If the kids want to go to the science bee, their parents can pay the ten dollars and they can carpool there.”
Murmurs of agreement circulated around the table and a few seconds later Josh sat down, his request for funds denied and the meeting adjourned.
Had Rick come here tonight specifically to shoot down Josh’s proposal? Josh hadn’t seen his fellow teacher walk into the room, but maybe he’d been too focused on Amy to notice anything else. And speaking of Amy, what would she make of all this? Would she say he’d played up his status as a local to ask for special favors from the board? That was ridiculous, but no more ridiculous than her assertion that the baseball team’s winning record was all due to luck, or that he’d gotten his job solely because he was a veteran.
He needed to talk to Amy and set the record straight before another wild story made it into the paper. But before Josh could reach Amy, Erica waylaid him. “That was a wonderful idea you had about the water collection and all,” she said. “I’m really looking forward to working with you on this project. I was thinking maybe we could apply for some grants and—”
“Uh-huh.” Josh watched as Amy walked out the door. “Maybe we could talk later,” he said to Erica. “I have something I need to do right now.”
He stepped into the hallway and looked around. Amy moved away from the two women she’d been talking with and came toward him. “What is your reaction to the school board’s denying your request for the money to attend the science bee?” she asked.
She was in full reporter mode, mini recorder in hand. “Hello, Amy,” he said. “How are you this evening?”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “I’m fine, Josh. In a little hurry to make the paper’s deadline. Are you upset the school board denied your request for funds?”
He chose his words carefully, all the while watching her, trying to gauge her reaction. “The school board has to weigh many requests for funds,” he said. “They have a tough job and a duty to be fiscally responsible. I’m still hoping the students can attend the science bee. I’ll be asking their parents to help make that happen, and I welcome any other volunteers from the community who’d like to help.”
“Very nicely done.” She switched off the recorder and stuck it in her purse. “Any idea why Rick Southerland spoke out so vehemently against the proposal?”
“I assume he objects to the school board spending any extra money.”
“He hasn’t attended any of the meetings I’ve covered. And something about his manner...I think this was more personal.”
He was tempted to tell her the whole story, but reminded himself that his words might end up on the front page of next week’s edition of the Hartland Herald. “Must be your imagination. Rick and I work together, but I really don’t know him well.”
“And now you’ve volunteered to help Love Soldier with her gardening project. That’s very civic-minded of you.”
Did he imagine the teasing note in her voice? “Her idea is a good one. I hated to see it shot down before we at least tried to find a solution. I worked on a couple of rainwater collection projects in college.”
“Any idea why she changed her name to Love Soldier?”
“You’d have to ask her, but Erica has always been a little alternative.”
“Then you know her?”
“We were in school together. Besides, stay in Hartland long enough and you get to know everyone.”
“My grandmother keeps assuming I already know everyone the way she does. She was convinced you and I had met before, but I had to remind her I was only here for a few weeks in the summer.”
“I don’t think we’d met before.” He liked to think he would have remembered if they’d known each other before, but who could say what kind of an impression she’d have made on him when she was a girl? He’d spent more time focused on baseball and horses than chasing after girls.
“I’ll help you with the science bee, if you like,” she said.
He didn’t try to hide his surprise. “Do you really want to spend the day with a bunch of high school kids?”
She shrugged. “I think it would make an interesting story for the paper.”
“Is that the real reason, or are you just looking for an excuse to follow me around and report on other signs of inexperience or special treatment?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll report on what I see, the same as I’d do with anyone.”
“As long as you don’t single me out for any special attention. I wouldn’t want that, no matter what some people think.”
A blush of color suffused her cheeks again—from anger, or some other emotion? “No special attention,” she said. “Not from me.”
She started to turn away, but he touched her shoulder. “I don’t want us to be enemies,” he said.
“You’re not my enemy. I told you before—I’m just doing my job.”
Right. And someone had to matter to you in some way in order for them to be your enemy. Amy obviously felt nothing for him except that resentment she apparently felt for any veteran who had what her late husband did not—namely, a life. He couldn’t
