was even remotely similar to the world in which he’d expected to live out his life. Carolyn’s death—He froze, the memories slamming into him. No, he wouldn’t let the hurt cripple him again. He’d fought too hard to escape the grief. He forced his feet to keep moving.
The job he’d loved, had thought he’d gain tenure with, had vanished too quickly when he’d fallen apart. He’d nearly lost Ryan, the thirteen-year-old waiting at home for jelly to make his peanut butter taste less like crap.
This move, this new position, had to work, had to save him and what was left of his world. It had to. What the hell? He’d read and grade anything—even a paper on the fashion of 1960s Vietnam—and give the student a fair grade, if it meant keeping his son, and giving Ryan the life he needed and deserved.
MONDAY MORNING CAME way too soon. Why, again, had she taken this job? Addie sat at the principal’s desk that, six months ago, she’d thought was the epitome of the best career move she’d ever made.
Teaching had always fulfilled her. After Mom’s funeral last year, though, she’d needed something to fill up the emptiness inside her. She knew some of it had to do with losing her mom, but not all of it. Not really.
So, she’d thrown herself into pursuing her long-held plan to become a school principal.
Now, after spending hours staring at budgets and accounting columns—that still didn’t balance—she was rethinking everything.
Frustrated, she returned her focus to the papers in front of her. Somewhere, the calculations were off, and she had to figure out where. Maybe she should take it down to the eighth-grade math class...see if they could solve it?
Or she could go to the teachers’ lounge and get a nice cup of tea. Caffeine sounded lovely right about now. She stood. Maybe a break would help.
Lindy Dawson sat at the break room table working on lesson plans. Addie smiled. She and Lindy had started teaching here the same year. Their friendship was one of the best parts of this job.
“Hey, Ad.” The petite brunette leaned back and put down her pen. She rolled her shoulders. “What’s on your exciting schedule today?”
“The usual.” Addie sighed. “I can’t get this month’s budget numbers to balance.”
Lindy had been the one person who hadn’t supported Addie’s job change. In all honesty, she missed the day-to-day contact with the kids, and Lindy had known that would happen.
“You having second thoughts? About the job, I mean.”
“No. Just—” Addie sighed. “I don’t know. Something seems off.”
“Here?” Lindy tilted her head toward the hall. “Or at home?” She grinned at Addie, a shit-eating grin if Addie ever saw one. “You did go out to the ranch this weekend—to the land where everyone falls in loooove, right?” Her voice went a bit singsongy.
“Cut it out.” The slightly annoying detail that all of Addie’s siblings—younger siblings, all five of them—were married or seriously involved with someone wasn’t lost on her. She chose to ignore the fact that she hadn’t gone on a date in months.
“What?” Lindy laughed. “Got anything you’d like to share?” She waggled her eyebrows, teasing. “Any juicy details of some wild weekend?”
“Funny.” If Addie didn’t know Lindy so well, if they hadn’t shared nearly every deep, dark secret over ice cream and wine, she might be upset with Lindy’s nosiness. She knew it was well-intentioned. Lindy was as close to her as Addie had ever been with either of her sisters. “No, nothing to share.” Even Addie heard the disappointment in her voice.
“Maybe that’s the problem.” Lindy closed her notebook, and gathered up her things. “Give yourself a break. It’s budgets. Nobody dies.”
“Are you sure?” Addie flopped down on the couch. “We could all freeze to death if the heating bill isn’t paid, you know.”
“Nah, I’ll just make everyone run around the building to warm up. Besides, we live in Texas, remember? Warm most of the time.” Addie groaned as Lindy stood and shouldered her backpack. “One more swim practice before regionals.” Lindy laughed as she headed toward the door. As the gym teacher and swim coach, Lindy always finished her day with swim class.
“Do you ever get tired of it? Want to change to another subject or something?” Addie asked.
“Nope.” Lindy opened the door. “Watching teens in an environment where they can’t posture and primp gives me hope for the human race.” She laughed.
“You’re sadistic.”
Lindy just grinned back. “I know. Admit it—it’s what you love about me.”
Addie knew her friend also loved when she could teach kids the skills to save themselves. The rest was just a cover for the soft heart that resided inside.
Suddenly, loud voices came from the hallway. “What’s that?” Lindy asked as she peered into the hall. Addie wasn’t far behind. Jess Martin, the biology teacher, came out of the science lab the same time they stepped into the hall.
A crowd stood near the lockers. Raised voices bounced off the walls. There was obviously something going on. As Addie and the teachers got closer, kids on the outside of the circle stepped aside and away. They knew trouble was coming.
“Hey,” Lindy called, wading through the group. Jess followed. He was taller and bigger than either of them, which might give him an advantage to see what was going on. By the time Addie reached the center of the crowd, Lindy had pulled one boy back and Jess had hold of another.
The first boy had a bloody nose—the second would have a pretty good shiner tomorrow morning.
“Everyone back to class,” Jess instructed. After the kids all groaned a bit, they trudged away, discussing the fight.
“You two.” Addie pointed from one boy to the other. “My office. We’ll call your parents. Lindy, get the first-aid kit.” They didn’t have a school nurse. They shared one for the entire district, but she was really here only when they were giving out vaccinations or holding a special event. Most crises were handled by the administration, or the teachers.
Lindy was better at first aid than the rest of them, since gym class tended to be the place everyone got hurt.
The taller of the two boys, the one Jess had by the arm, just snickered and shrugged. She recognized him—Nick Haldon. He’d been in her office before, a couple of times. She remembered his parents, as well. The Haldons were decent people, but the father seemed absent in the boy’s life. Meeting with the pair was never a pleasant experience.
The other boy was smaller, but not by much. He didn’t have the perpetual smirk on his face. If nothing else, he looked a bit shocked, perhaps scared. Was he afraid of her? Of getting in trouble? Of his parents? She looked at him for a minute, knowing she’d have the answer soon enough.
She led the way to the office, with Lindy bringing up the rear,
