after school,” Joel surprised himself by saying.
She nodded. “I think I know the man in question.”
Joel nearly choked on the candy. He stopped chewing and stared at her, feeling his jaw harden like the rock in his palm. “Excuse me?”
“Dean DuPaul. You’re the spitting image of him. How long’s it been since you spoke to your father, Mr. Montgomery?”
Joel shook his head. “He’s not my father. He’s my uncle, my father’s brother. They had different fathers, so their last names don’t match. Dean betrayed my family and I have no use for the man.” The words felt bitter even with the layer of sweetness coating Joel’s mouth. She nodded again, eyeing him with what Joel interpreted as concern. He needed to stop looking into those compassionate, compelling green eyes. Doing so made him want to get all soft and talk about it.
He forced his eyes to an about-face and his feet to march ahead as he motioned with his hand. “Let’s move on.” Hopefully she’d get that he didn’t want to talk about it further. Relief melted the tension from his jaw and shoulders when she fell into step beside him.
They meandered toward the ranks of Bradford pear trees flanking the concrete walk leading up to the school entrance. “Tell me about Miss Stanton,” Joel said, really wanting to know.
“There’s not much to tell.” She tugged her shirt hem much the same way Bradley had earlier.
Joel bit back a smile. “Really?” He leaned closer.
She looked everywhere but at him. “Really.”
He had a hard time believing that. Her chin lifted and she squinted her eyes at a yard scuffle erupting near the jungle gym. Another teacher blazed in, looking intent to deal with it.
Joel stepped off the path to a patch of sparse lawn which reminded him of Bradley’s thinning hair. He kicked a dirt clod. Dust layered the toe of his boot. “What kind of cancer does Bradley have?” Joel cringed inwardly, wishing he’d eased in instead of crashing into the subject.
Amber stopped and stared somberly at the scattered dirt. “Leukemia.” Emotion thickened her voice. “Without a successful bone marrow transplant, he’ll be—” she paused, swallowing “—gone by the end of the school year. I know God can step in and intervene either way. Regardless of whether his time is long or short, I intend to make it matter.” She lifted her face to meet his. “So, thank you very much for coming here today.”
Joel’s respect for her went up a notch. It took a unique person to teach children with special needs. Then to champion the task of making life matter to a dying child—he admired her big-time.
She shifted her stance as Bradley emerged from the brick school. Joel clenched his jaw. No need to cry in front of the kid, right? Today was supposed to be his dream come true. Joel was determined to go all out to accomplish that. Fact was, Bradley had already bunkered down into Joel’s heart. “Kid’s cute.”
“He knows it, too.” Pleasant laughter trailed her words.
Bradley hobbled up, darting his gaze from one to the other, making google eyes. Joel tugged off Bradley’s glasses, handing them to Amber. He swooped him up on his shoulders and galloped around more gently than he would if he were toting a well child. Bradley squealed with laughter.
Joel set him down and adopted a conspiratorial whisper. “Wanna hear my brilliant idea?”
Bradley leaned in, mimicking the whisper. “Yes.”
“How about we make you an honorary PJ for the day?”
Bradley’s shouts pierced the air then he ran off to tell his friends.
Over the next two hours, Joel felt anchored to Miss Stanton like a tether strap. He could mill around. Should even. Had no desire to. Completely fascinated with this small-town teacher, he soaked up her presence like drought-cracked earth after rain.
Too bad she lived in this tree-infested town. He’d like to get to know her better. Besides, in his line of work, long-term was tough. Not only that, her persona blared maternal!
The crackle of an ailing sound monitor preceded the high-pitched screech of toe-curling feedback. Joel shifted toward the announcer.
“I’m Mr. McCauley, the principal of this school. Though it’s daytime, students wanted to welcome our military visitors with a fireworks display and a special program, followed by our national anthem to be sung by one of our students.” His gaze sparkled with pride as it roved over the crowd of servicemen.
He swept his hand in an arc. “Gentlemen, we welcome you.”
Bottle rockets, lit by students with the assistance of teachers, streaked into blue sky. Screaming whistles zinged through the air, leaving spirals of twirling white smoke in their wakes. Cardboard cones on a concrete pad shot multicolor fire streams in regal hues.
Joel pivoted to observe Miss Stanton watching students interact with his teammates. The kindness in her face captivated him. That must be the appeal, he figured as she regarded each child with a tender smile. He shouldn’t stare. His good manners whispered, look away, and he would in a second…or two.
Hairs on the back of Amber’s neck stood at attention. She tilted her face upward. The intensity of the soldier’s gaze siphoned breath from her lungs. The sparks in his eyes were more electrifying than the fireworks.
Fireworks. She summoned strength to rip her eyes from the man and return them to the sky. Three muffled pops birthed sparkling red, white and blue alternating starbursts that sprinkled themselves across the sky before raining dozens of miniature plastic parachutes toward earth.
Children scrambled to grab them. As Joel turned to watch them, an eye-sized tattoo peeked at her from the back of his neck, just below the horizontal buzz of inky black hair. Her heart warmed at the sight of the Christian fish symbol with the Greek letters IXOYE in the middle of it.
But if he was a Christian, why would he harbor unforgiveness against someone, especially a blood relative?
Amber determined to pray for this soldier. If he was as stubborn as he looked, it would take someone bigger than her to convince him that reconciling was best. She knew firsthand what postponing forgiveness could do. She didn’t want this softhearted soldier to fall prey to bitterness. When he’d smiled, she’d been shocked just how much his cheeky grin resembled his uncle’s. Dean had mentioned Joel fondly in prayer requests at church.
She felt bad for assuming Joel was Dean’s son. She guessed now was not the time to tell Joel that Dean had been the one to stuff her pockets with gobs of licorice last Sunday. “For those special students,” he’d said. But she didn’t have to deal with the soldier on a sugar high the way she did her class and was glad to have someone else to give the red twists to.
When he rocked back on his heels, Amber shunted her stare back to the display. What was wrong with her today? She hadn’t even realized she’d been gawking until he’d turned and nearly caught her. She had no business scolding Bradley when she couldn’t keep her own manners in check.
Still, she couldn’t help wondering about this man who’d mentioned his mother in past tense with a twinge of sadness in his eyes.
And what had he meant by saying
