Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Take My Hand

Take My Hand
Ruth Scofield
After years apart, James " J.D." Sullivan had been reunited with his son only to find that single parenthood was harder than he thought. He turned to his long-lost faith, looking for guidance– and found the answer to all his prayers with a blue-eyed schoolteacher named Alexis Richmond.Falling in love was not in her lesson plan, but Alexis Richmond knew she' d lost her heart the moment James Sullivan walked through her classroom door with his nine-year-old son. But would their newfound love be strong enough to overcome the past and give Alexis the family she' s always longed for… ?



“It’s really kind of you to help, Mr. Sullivan,” Alexis replied,
“but I don’t want to put you out. You have your shop to get back to and Cliff to take care of. Why don’t I just—”
“Miss Richmond—” J.D. held the truck door wide and held out a helping hand her way “—we’ll have you home in no time.”
“Oh…um…thank you.” J.D. slipped his hand under her elbow as she stepped up to reach the truck floor. For half an instant, she felt his warm breath on her cheek. Then she was up and seated on the black leather seat next to Cliff. “I do appreciate it,” she said, turning just as his eyes lifted from her legs. His mouth softened as his gaze skittered away. She tugged her skirt back to her knees, feeling her cheeks flush.
She hadn’t blushed in years.

RUTH SCOFIELD
became serious about writing after she’d raised her children. Until then, she’d concentrated her life on being a June Cleaver-type wife and mother, spent years as a Bible student and teacher for teens and young adults and led a weekly women’s prayer group. When she’d made a final wedding dress and her last child had left the nest, she declared to one and all that it was her turn to activate a dream. Thankfully, her husband applauded her decision.
Ruth’s first book was published in 1993 just a month after her return to her native Missouri after years in the East. She often sets her novels in Missouri, where there are lakes and hills aplenty, and as many stories and history as people. She eagerly expects to write two dozen more novels.

Take My Hand
Ruth Scofield

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love.
But the greatest of these is love.
—I Corinthians 13:13
I wish to thank Karen Williamson, my daughter
and teacher of students with Behavior Disorder,
for her help in the understanding
of educational terminology.

Dear Reader,
A society is often judged by how it treats those in its society that are nonstandard. The growing awareness and treatment of students with Behavior Disorder is a case in point. These students sometimes have physical disabilities, sometimes emotional, but all deserve a chance to learn and shine in their knowledge. This story touches that need. God loves each of us with a passion beyond description.
I hope you enjoy Alexis and James’s story. They are typical of all the small-town folks who live around the lakes. Just like you and me.
You may write to me at: P.O. Box 1221, Blue Springs, MO 64015.



Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Epilogue

Chapter One
Alexis Richmond looked up as a man paused in her open classroom door. He stood tall and knee-locked, his thighs molded inside his denims as though holding his own against a gale wind. His lightning glance showed dark brown eyes full of vexation, framed in tired lines.
She continued to stack papers and waited.
The father of her new student, she assumed. The Lake Trails Elementary School office had called only an hour ago to let her know her class would now number twelve. Twelve was a large group for a special-needs class. Alexis taught students classified as having a behavior disorder—often among other disabilities. Thank God for the help of Kathy, her para-professional.
The stranger’s gaze took her in with a quick skim before his mouth tightened with sheer determination. He glanced behind him. “Come on, Cliff.”
The boy eased around the corner into view. Alexis knew he was nine years old from her brief glance at the sketchy notes sent down from the office. He wore rumpled brown shorts and a T-shirt ripped at the shoulder. His knees and elbows, sporting a couple of scabs, appeared as sharp points on his skinny limbs. He looked clean, at least.
“Get in here” came through the father’s gritted teeth. His large, work-worn hand clamped the boy’s thin shoulder as though preventing a dash for freedom.
Now this was a great start…. Coming to a new school was not a happy event for this pair.
The man’s jaw showed evidence of a sketchy shave, and he didn’t look a whole lot neater than his son. Both could do with a good haircut. However, the boy’s face looked scrubbed to a shine, and she caught the fragrance of a familiar soap.
Casual dress didn’t bother her, as long as a student was clean and modest. She preferred wearing simple things herself, and today had chosen a sleeveless, flowered cotton dress that skimmed her body in loose comfort. She liked the fact that the blue print matched her eyes. She’d felt like celebrating spring this morning.
She was thankful this pair had arrived while her other students were in Music. She had about twenty minutes of quiet time before the kids returned. She usually needed the break; teaching special-needs students demanded patience and one hundred percent teacher focus. But at least now she had a few moments to give this new child her undivided attention. And the dad. They both looked a little lost, she thought.
She let out her breath. Time to take charge, she guessed. She moved out from behind the desk. “Hello. I’m Miss Richmond. And you are…?”
Far back in his dark eyes, a spark of startled awareness flickered a moment before he answered. It elicited a quick, surprised reaction in her middle. As though they had met before, somewhere. Sometime. Yet Alexis knew they hadn’t.
Assuming her professional armor, she ignored the feeling.
“J.D., ma’am. J. D. Sullivan.” He handed her a large brown envelope, fat with what she suspected were the child’s school records. “This is my son, Clifford.”
“Hi, Clifford.” Alexis looked directly at the boy. “I’m glad to meet you.”
The child didn’t answer, but defiance gleamed from his dark brown eyes before his gaze darted to the bank of windows.
J.D. frowned. “Answer the lady, boy.”
Cliff remained silent a moment, then, when his dad squeezed his shoulder, he mumbled, “’Lo.” But the boy didn’t return his gaze to hers.
The child’s behavior was in keeping with why he’d been placed in her class. Complicating the problem, the child had just lost his mother, and Missouri was half a continent away from where he’d lived in California. All this was new to the child.
Helping Cliff, with only a few weeks left in the school year, surely presented a challenge.
Alexis sat against the edge of her desk; it brought her face closer to the child’s. She softened her tone. “I know it’s hard, coming into a new classroom so late in the year. But you’ll make friends here, and we’ll find out how to help each other. Okay?”
At the boy’s continued silence, J.D. glanced at her, a hint of desperation there. Since she knew the pitfalls of getting personally caught up in the parents’ plights, Alexis tried to firm her heart against that soulful gaze. But a trace of compassion seeped through.
“Never mind for the moment. Clifford, why don’t you take this desk here—” she tapped the desk closest to hers “—and then go look at our aquarium back there in the corner until the other students are back from Music.”
“I’m not Clifford.” He thrust his chin out. “I’m Cliff.”
“All right. Cliff. We have a turtle in our tank as well as fish. See if he’s out on the island.”
The boy impatiently shook off his dad’s hand and headed toward the back corner.
“That’s it, then.” Relief seemed to ease some of J.D.’s tension as he half turned toward the door. “I’ll pick him up at the end of the day.”
“Hold on, Mr. Sullivan. We have a few things to discuss.”
“Uh…like what?” A tinge of alarm edged his voice as he swung back.
“Like Cliff’s needs. His school record. His meds.”
“It’s all there, isn’t it? In that file from California?” J.D. flashed a tired, half-belligerent glance at the folder in her hand.
“I hope so, but I haven’t had a chance to read it, have I?”
“I can’t tell you anything more than that file can,” he said, as impatient as his son. He glanced at his watch. “We got in to Doc Hanes’s office this morning, so Cliff’s all set now with those pills he’s taking. What else is there?”
“Well, we have to set up an IEP meeting.”
“A what?”
“Individualized Education Plan.”
“Oh. Yeah. Well…do whatever you have to. I have to go now. I’m late getting my shop open.”
Alexis tried to hide her annoyance. Most of the parents she dealt with were eager to do what was best for their child, but she ran into an occasional careless one. Like now.
From the fish tank came a drumming sound. “Cliff, don’t do that!” his father called. Cliff didn’t acknowledge the command to stop.
“Cliff!”
His back to them, the boy moved on to pull a book from a shelf, then flip it repeatedly with a slap-slap noise.
“Sorry.” J.D. shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. A tired sigh escaped him with his apology.
Alexis nodded, then said, “We should do this within a week or two, Mr. Sullivan.”
“It’s spring, Miss Richmond. My busy time. Haven’t much time for extras.”
Alexis thought J.D. was about ready to bolt. She took a step forward and spoke quickly. “An IEP is a required document for any student with a disability, Mr. Sullivan. The law requires a team meeting among parents, teacher, school nurse and principal. It can’t wait.”
“Me? I have to be there?” Caught in surprise, his glance told her he felt totally helpless. His already dark eyes deepened to melting chocolate. Her heart gave a little kick, swimming against an unwelcome tide. Oh, no…
She’d run afoul of these natural charmers before, to her own sorrow. A man like this one used it without half trying, and she’d been a sucker once too often. Why couldn’t she simply demand the man’s help, and then forget it? He was the parent, after all. She was merely the teacher.
A tumble of books hit the cement floor.
J.D. raised his voice. “Cliff!”
“I didn’t do it,” the boy instantly whined. “They just fell.”
“Stop getting into what you shouldn’t,” his father commanded. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”
Alexis calmly walked over to help pick up the books. “You may read this one while you wait, Cliff,” she said, handing one to the boy. “Take your seat now. The other boys and girls will be back any moment.”
Sulking, the child slumped into the seat indicated, but immediately began kicking the leg.
Well-practiced, Alexis ignored the continued noise. Time enough to work with Cliff when his emotions had settled down and he became comfortable in the classroom.
Walking back to the front of the room, she noticed J.D. had edged toward the door. “The boy is building for a good walloping before long,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair. “If he doesn’t straighten up soon.”
Maybe J.D. wasn’t so charming after all, Alexis thought. The thought of “walloping” any child put her back up. But he was a father on the edge. A parent who needed help. “I don’t think a spanking would solve anything….”
He rubbed a spot between his eyes with his thumb. “Kept me up and down three nights running since he came. My ex spoiled him rotten….”
That explained some of the irritation.
“Both of you must be worn out,” she said, letting her sympathy show. “It does take time to adjust to a new environment, Mr. Sullivan. I’m sure Cliff’s behavior will improve once we get him settled and he understands where his boundaries are. Now about the IEP…”
“Uh-huh. Um…what is it again?”
“An Individualized Education Plan for Cliff. It sets out the goals for a child for one full calendar year. His meds intake should have a firm routine as a part of that. I’ll call you after I’ve looked over the papers, to set up the meeting.”
“The school year is winding down, isn’t it? Don’t see what good it would do this late.”
“More than you can imagine, Mr. Sullivan. At least we’ll have a handle on Cliff’s problems for next year, as well. We need to be in agreement here, with all parties involved in full understanding of what’s best for Cliff. What we’re trying to accomplish for your son.”
“Yeah, okay. Well, you’re the teacher,” he said with an air of finality. “Anything you say, I’ll do it.”
With that, J. D. Sullivan nearly raced from the room.

“A paddle would do more good, if you ask me,” J.D. muttered all the way out to his truck. “Even just the threat. Brat!”
He turned the ignition key of his ’79 truck, put the shift into gear and barely refrained from roaring out of the school parking lot. Here it was noon, and there was no one minding his shop.
He continued to talk to himself. “Melanie did a good job at spoiling the kid. Only one way to fix that.”
Yet J.D. wasn’t ready to actually carry out his threat. He’d never laid a hand on Cliff in anger—nor on Melanie, in spite of their volatile marriage. But Cliff was only four when Melanie took him from Missouri to California, and now… J.D. simply didn’t know what to do with the son now in his keeping. He’d missed the past five years of fathering.
It was all well and good for smooth-as-silk Miss Richmond to talk. With that fancy education the principal had told him about, Miss Richmond could spout with ease all that stuff that modern teachers knew about how a misbehaving child should be taught. But that wouldn’t help him at home. How was he supposed to cope when Cliff hated him? When they didn’t know each other? When the boy whined constantly?
In the alley off Sunny Creek’s main street, he pulled into his spot behind the shop and sat a moment. He leaned his head against his fist, his elbow supported on the steering wheel. He let his breath whoosh from his lungs. He was already tired, and the day was only half over.
How much trouble was he in? He and his son?
What was he going to do?
Oh, Lord, I need Your help…. I feel like a dunce! I’m in over my head here and I don’t know how to handle my own son. Can You tell me what to do?
It had been years since he’d addressed his creator—since he was a boy. He’d neglected that aspect of his life with little guilt, finding a morning out on the lake fishing or simply sleeping late on Sundays more to his liking. Maybe the Lord wouldn’t hear him anymore.
He suddenly wished he kept a Bible at the shop. Perhaps some scripture might tell him something—give him some hope. The Bible is what his mom had turned to when she felt troubled. He had a Bible at home. Somewhere. But he wouldn’t even know where to look for it. Or what scripture to read.
He no longer was acquainted with any pastor in town, either. He’d feel a fool to go to one for help now, when he was desperate. Yet helping was something ministers did, wasn’t it?
That was something else he’d have to look into, he supposed. A church to attend. The one he’d known as a child, perhaps. Cliff would need friends.
Well, he didn’t have time to think more about it now. He’d turned off his cell phone to concentrate on getting Cliff enrolled in school. No telling how many calls he’d have waiting for him on his answering machine. Though he never ignored them, customers grew impatient when they couldn’t reach him easily.
As he unlocked the rear door and flicked on lights, his mood lightened a tad. This was his refuge, his territory. This was what he did well. Small-engine parts and repair. His customers knew he was the best in Missouri at small-engine repair. His reputation was known all over the lakes. He sold boat parts and limited equipment on the side, as well.
At least Cliff was safely at school with that pretty teacher. He could relax, knowing the kid wasn’t tearing up his house while he wasn’t looking. At least Cliff was out of trouble. And looking at Miss Richmond all day would be no hardship. None at all, with that honey-colored hair and those cool blue-green eyes. Her delicate features positively invited masculine attention, he mused. He’d never been so lucky when he was in school.
He’d almost lost his cool when he first saw her—shucks, he had, J.D. admitted. She’d looked good enough to tuck into his pocket any day.
He wondered where she was from. He hadn’t seen her around town before, and the town wasn’t all that big in the winter off-season. Sunny Creek sat at the northern edge of Truman Lake, an old town now three times the size of what it was when he was a boy. She must be one of the new people.
The phone rang, and he grabbed it on the third ring. “Sullivan’s Repair,” he answered, yanking his thoughts back from a womanly figure whose shapely calves peeking from a flowered hem had intrigued him.
It was just as well. No way would a woman like Miss Richmond look twice at a man like him. She’d go for one of those summertime intellectuals or a smart-mouth from the school board.
But you couldn’t shoot a man for merely looking. At least he’d see her again at the end of the school day.

Chapter Two
Two mornings later, Alexis shook her head, an unspoken regret rattling around her thoughts. She didn’t like having to call Mr. Sullivan so soon, but she had no choice. Cliff had caused a disruption. She’d expected such, but it had come more quickly than she’d anticipated.
“Kathy, can you keep an eye on things for five minutes?” Alexis treasured her para, the assistant teacher assigned to her class. Kathy, an attractive woman of middle years, had the patience of a saint. It also helped that her own child, now grown, had been a special-needs student. “I think I’ll make this call from the office, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure, Miss Richmond. Um, I have a better idea. We’ll take a trip to the library.”
“Bless you,” Alexis said, flashing Kathy a smile of gratitude.
Alexis waited until the students filed out, then closed the classroom door and pulled out her cell phone. Running her finger down the list of phone numbers, she found the one she sought and punched in J.D.’s shop number. She waited tentatively. After their first meeting, she wasn’t quite sure of the reception she’d get from the sexy Mr. Sullivan.
Now, why in the world had she thought of him with that tag? Sexy? She didn’t usually pigeonhole people with mere skin-deep descriptions.
Yet she couldn’t deny the label.
“Sullivan’s Repair.”
“Mr. Sullivan?” She jerked her thoughts back to the task at hand, activating her teacher’s voice. “This is Alexis Richmond. We need to see you as soon as possible. Can you come in this afternoon, right after the close of the school day?”
“Middle of the afternoon? Can’t do it.”
“Then, how about now, Mr. Sullivan? Immediately.”
“Why? What’s the rush?”
“Cliff’s behavior.” Calling on years of practice, she kept her tone nonjudgmental. “We need to discuss discipline.”
“What’s he done?”
“He hit another student. Hard. We cannot tolerate improper aggression of any degree, Mr. Sullivan. If you want your child to remain in public school, we must reach an understanding on how he is to be disciplined. There is a possibility that he could be facing an out-of-school suspension.”
A short silence followed, then he said, “Got into a fight, did he?”
“Not exactly.” In her opinion, a fight included participation from more than one person. Tyler, the other boy, hadn’t done much to defend himself. “Cliff over-reacted to a…verbal disagreement.”
“Is that all? Can’t you just shake him or stand him in the corner?”
Is that all the man could think of? To physically punish the boy? Pursing her lips, she mentally counted to ten.
“His behavior management will be much more effective if we work as a team, Mr. Sullivan.” She put an effort into firming her tone. “Cliff needs to know we are in agreement, and I don’t really think he needs…”
Alexis bit her tongue. She wanted to say the child needed love and hugs along with firm limitations. He needed years of parental companionship to teach him emotional balance and self-confidence. Plus a first-hand example of appropriate control of angry emotions. She suspected the child had missed out on all that.
According to the sketchy report she’d read, perhaps the father had, too.
Alexis changed her tactic. “Have you read your son’s paperwork, Mr. Sullivan?”
“Haven’t had time.”
Vexation flooded her thoughts, and she prayed for self-control. She brushed her hair behind her ear and shifted in her chair. How could a father be so uninterested? So what that he hadn’t been a part of his son’s life for years. He was the sole parent now!
But it wouldn’t do to show less command of herself than she expected of her students, and this wasn’t the first time she’d run into a difficult parent. The kind of problems her students exhibited often extended to include a misguided parent, but she was beginning to understand that this set of problems covered J.D. and Cliff in a different way.
So she spoke mildly. “I do hope you’ll take the time within the next day or so, Mr. Sullivan. Before we hold our IEP meeting.”
The next moment of silence seemed full of unspoken sentiments. Had he caught her irritation in spite of her best efforts?
“I’ll get to it,” he replied. “Meanwhile, Cliff can, um, just do without supper.”
“That’s not really the way I’d choose to help Cliff face his offense….”
Another pause. “All right. What do you want to do?”
The door swung wide, and her students trailed in, Kathy in the rear. Kathy raised her brow, a silent question conveyed. Alexis nodded, and signaled her to get the kids seated.
“I’ll give Cliff an after-school detention for now,” Alexis quickly said into the phone. “You can pick him up at four-thirty. Perhaps we can arrange for a meeting then?”
“Guess I can’t avoid it. Okay, I’ll be there.”
“Fine. I’ll expect you.”
Breathing a sigh of thankfulness, Alexis glanced at her watch. There was just enough left of the school day to tackle a short math lesson.

J.D. surprised her by arriving a few minutes early. Almost silently. She glanced up, and he was there, staring at her with a soft gaze.
Cliff and two other students sat in her room. She’d taken after-school duty, trading another teacher for her time. Kathy had offered to stay, too, but she had put in a lot of overtime throughout the winter, so Alexis had declined.
Cliff sat at his desk, refusing to look at her. For the past two hours he hadn’t looked at anyone. He’d sullenly refused to apologize to Tyler, insisting Tyler deserved his wrath. Tyler had laughed and made fun when Cliff missed hitting the ball in the softball game.
J.D. advanced into the room. “Okay, I’m here, Miss Richmond. Now what?”
“Why don’t you be seated, Mr. Sullivan, until I can dismiss the other students.” She briefly wondered what the “J.D.” stood for—she much preferred using complete names rather than initials. “Here, take this chair.”
It didn’t matter. He was “Mr. Sullivan” to her.
She went about closing out the day, knowing he watched everything she did. Grown men were a rarity in her classroom. From the corner of her eye, she noted J.D.’s long legs, clad in well-washed blue jeans, as he thrust them out in front of him and crossed his ankles. Her pulse quickened.
In her specialty, parent-teacher talks were often filled with tension, but not usually this kind: male to female.
What was wrong with her? She’d just broken off a two-year relationship that had been going nowhere, and she wanted time to recover from residual feelings. She was determined to give herself at least six months to a year before dating again. Heaven knows, a crush on a student’s father was certainly one thing she didn’t need right now. Or anytime, for that matter. Especially a careless lump who didn’t seem to have any natural instincts as a father.
Then she caught his gaze. The way he looked at her indicated he certainly didn’t lack other natural instincts. He exhibited very basic ones without any problem.
This would never do. She must be having a rebound reaction….
Mentally shaking herself, Alexis stilled her riotous thoughts. She was still the teacher and she had a job to do. Turning a competent face to J.D., she murmured, “All right, now…”
They talked with Cliff for fifteen minutes as Alexis explained her reasons for insisting the boy apologize to the child he’d whacked. “You need to own up to your actions, Cliff. That’s a part of growing up, you see. Learning to handle your anger correctly is tough, but I’m sure you can do it.”
J.D. listened as attentively as his son, but he surprised her further when he backed her up.
“If Miss Richmond says you have to apologize, then you have to. First thing Monday morning. Understand?”
Cliff started to debate the issue, but then, catching the stern look on his father’s face, he lost some of his belligerence. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Good,” Alexis said. This session had gone better than she had thought it might. “I’m sure things will improve for you soon.”
She excused Cliff. The child shot from his seat to glue himself to the windows.
Alexis turned to the father. “This is a positive step. It’s very difficult for a child to change schools so late in the year, and adjustments are especially hard for our special students. Now let’s find a time when all the professionals involved in Cliff’s welfare can meet with you, Mr. Sullivan.”
They set a time for early the following week. That gave J.D. time to read his son’s papers, and, hopefully, think about Cliff’s needs. Alexis rose and offered her hand to signal the meeting’s close.
“Thank you for coming in so promptly. I’m sure Cliff will settle in soon.”
“Hope so.” J.D. enveloped her small hand in his and shook it twice. His touch teased her senses.
She blinked and pulled her hand away. She pressed her lips together in tight denial. Dropping her lashes, she said, “’Bye, Cliff. See you tomorrow.”
Cliff dashed from the room without replying. J.D. gave her a curt nod, then turned to follow his son.
Alexis let out a long sigh, then gathered her briefcase and purse. She was eager to get home. She planned to pick up a carryout meal to drop by the home of Mrs. Nelson, a woman who attended the same church as she. The old dear had been house-bound a lot this past winter, and her daughter had recently moved. Alexis felt a heart tug to give the woman some needed company.
After that, she had a pile of papers to slog through. Plus some lesson plans to form. It would be enough to keep her from thinking too much about the sad state her personal life was in. She’d been on her way to planning a wedding when she discovered that life with Ron would never work. Ron was more interested in his ambitions than her. She’d broken off the engagement during spring break.
Alexis didn’t really regret her decision. She only regretted spending too much time on a man not right for her. In the end, she’d parted from Ron without a backward glance. But at thirty, she surely did wonder what God had in store for her now.
Yes, Lord. What now? She wanted a husband of her own to grown old with, a man and children to cherish. Yet she knew…the Lord hadn’t failed her. She was the one who kept falling for the wrong kind of guy.
Lord, am I destined to only teach children that are not my own? she couldn’t help asking. What more can I do? Will I never find an intelligent, Godly man with whom I can spend a lifetime?
Outside, she breathed deeply in the spring air. Only two months or so left of the school year. As much as she valued and thrived on teaching, she looked forward to the close of the long semester. She really needed this summer’s break. It was the first one in five years that she had free—she was neither teaching summer school nor attending a class.
Most of the school emptied out five minutes after the last bell rang. The spring weather coaxed everyone to enjoy the outdoors. As usual, she seemed to be one of the dawdlers. Only three cars, including her own, remained in the parking lot.
She tossed her things into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel.
Only it wouldn’t start. The motor made an irritating grinding sound, but wouldn’t catch. She tried again with the same results. Then she got out of the car.
This topped her day. It really did. She felt like kicking tires or something, like one of her students might. If that would help—which it wouldn’t. Her hands on her hips, she merely stared at the vehicle. Now what?
“Trouble, Miss Richmond?” A deep voice startled her.
She glanced over her shoulder. J.D. strolled her way. He had a lazy grace when he wasn’t angry or tense. A naturalness. Something that didn’t come from a gym.
Alexis hadn’t noticed him sitting in the old black truck parked on the street—half the population of this country town owned trucks. She glanced that way, wondering where Cliff was. The boy leaned out the window, looking bored. He didn’t wave. She supposed he was still miffed with her.
“Yes. I suppose I’d better call someone. I don’t believe there’s a dealership in town for my car.”
“I know a little about mechanics.”
“Ah…yes. I suppose you do.” In her opinion, most men arrogantly assumed they knew about motors and that women had no clue.
“Don’t know if I can help. Small engines are my specialty.”
“Sorry.” She felt her cheeks flush. Of course he might know something about motors. She’d forgotten what his business was. “I hadn’t thought…”
“Let me take a look-see.”
“All right. That’s very kind of you.” On the playground adjoining the parking lot, Alexis heard the thump-thump of a basketball hitting the pavement. High school kids often used the grounds after school.
J.D. leaned past her, bending to the button inside her car and popping the hood. She stepped out of his way, murmuring, “Thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
A disembodied voice backed by static began to give out information: “North on old Chaney Road…they need an ambulance…”
Looking for the source, she spotted a two-way radio clipped to J.D.’s belt. He ignored it and didn’t respond.
“Are you on an emergency response team?” she asked idly. Home-grown resources were good to know, and she filed away the knowledge in her teacher’s mental file.
“Volunteer fireman. Not much need this past year, though, since Sunny Creek raised enough money to go with a couple of full-timers.”
She heard the slam of the truck door. Cliff ran over and leaned under the yawning hood. His dark hair in his eyes, he nudged closer and hitched himself higher, almost crawling into the engine.
“Move, Cliff,” J.D. muttered, though not unkindly.
Cliff’s attention didn’t last long. The boy soon wandered over to watch the ballplayers. Another youth streamed by on his skateboard, instantly engaging Cliff’s interest.
“Do you know what’s wrong?” Alexis asked. As old as the car was, the problem might be anything. She only prayed it wouldn’t cost an arm to have fixed.
“Um…there’s a break in the radiator hose.”
“Uh-oh. How hard is that to fix?”
“Can’t. You need a new one.”
“Can I get one tonight?”
“Probably not. Don’t worry about it. Cliff and I can run you home, and I’ll come by in the morning and put a new one on for you.”
He sounded competent and unexpectedly kind, but she wasn’t too sure if she should accept his offer. This was a small town. People noticed when a teacher didn’t arrive home in her own vehicle. They’d raise an eyebrow if a teacher became friends with a single father.
Yet she didn’t relish walking the nearly two miles to her apartment tonight.
“Well…” Alexis glanced toward the school building. She could always beg a ride with Mrs. Henderson, the principal. Her car was in the lot, so she was still there. Yet who knew when Lavinia would be ready to leave?
“Cliff!” J.D. called, seeming to take for granted that she had accepted his offer. “Let’s go.”
Though they could see him trailing after the skate-boarder, Cliff didn’t respond.
“Da— Um—” J.D. caught himself, giving her a rueful glance, letting her know she was the reason. Humor edged his mouth when he checked his language. “Drat, the boy. He ignores me all too often.” J.D. raised his voice. “Cliff!”
“It’s really kind of you to help, Mr. Sullivan, but I don’t want to put you out.” She wasn’t sure it was the thing to do—letting him know where she lived. Although, in this small town it wouldn’t take much detective work to find her—if someone really wanted to know. “You have your shop to get back to, I’m sure. And Cliff to take care of. Why don’t I just—”
But her thought was interrupted when Cliff finally headed toward them. J.D. jerked his chin toward the truck and gestured for her to move.
“Just hold on to your patience, Miss Richmond, and climb in.” J.D. held the truck door wide, handing Cliff onto the bench seat with ease. Then he held out a hand to her.
It would be ridiculous to refuse. Of course it would.
“We’ll have you home in no time,” he said. “Five minutes more away from my shop right now won’t make a difference. I’ll be open a little later anyway, since it’s Friday night.”
“Oh…um…” she muttered, contemplating the vehicle. The aged truck no longer had a step up. The only way she’d make it into that seat was to elevate her skirt high enough to give herself the mobility she needed to climb. But to refuse would be totally un-gracious.
“Thank you.” Throwing modesty to the winds, she hiked her purse to her shoulder, tossed her book bag before her, then lifted her skirt above her knees. She hadn’t a hand left to grab anything to pull herself up.
His hand slipped under her elbow as she stepped up to reach the truck floor. For half an instant, she felt his warm breath on her cheek. Then she was up on the black leather seat next to Cliff.
“I do appreciate it,” she said, turning just as his eyes lifted from her legs. His mouth softened as his gaze skittered away. She tugged her skirt back to her knees, feeling her cheeks flush like a teenager’s.
She hadn’t blushed in years.
“But if you don’t mind—” she gently cleared her throat “—let me out at Fifth and Dogwood, please. I’m expected at a friend’s house.”
That should do it. He needn’t know that she planned to spend her Friday evening with eighty-eight-year-old Mrs. Nelson.
He needn’t think she was flirting with him, either.

Chapter Three
Early the next morning, Alexis shoved her feet into her running shoes, tied the laces, then twisted her ponytail under a royal-blue baseball cap. Bending, she engaged in a few stretches. Walking the less than two miles to school wasn’t normally a problem. She’d done it several times last autumn, skipping through bright leaves while dreaming of her wedding plans. Plans that, over the winter, had fallen apart like a handful of dry sand tossed into the wind.
Lately she’d done no more than a desultory lunchtime stroll around the school playground. She had checked her personal disappointment at the door, hiding it behind bright smiles and teasing encouragement as she sauntered among the children. She drew the line at letting her negative emotions affect her school performance. Her kids needed all her positive energies.
Past time to put all that behind her, she mused, and to move on with her life. The physical exercise was good for her. She revved up her resolve. Last night’s half-mile walk home from Mrs. Nelson’s had been a snap.
It’s a good time to talk with You, Lord…. she prayed now.
Switching a few items from her purse to a fanny pack, she tossed her cell phone on her bedside table. No outside distractions today. No chattering children nor classroom demands.
Changing seasons always reminds me of Your design for our personal changes, Father. I’ve been lax in my devotions lately. Please forgive me and help me know which direction You want me to pursue now that I’m single again. This is the second time I’ve nearly married the wrong choice for me. With all the mistakes I’ve made in choosing the wrong men in my life, I don’t think I know any longer.
Sunshine drifted through budding trees to dapple the old sidewalk with shadow lace. It caught her fancy, bringing a smile to her lips. Alexis felt her heart lift in appreciation of the morning’s beauty. Unable to help herself, she dawdled and admired the blossoming crocus in the yard nearest the school.
On this lazy spring Saturday, she expected most people to have a late start to their day. Finding J.D. in the school parking lot before her surprised her.
She quickened her step. His long, lean back was bent over her motor, and she could see only the curve of his face. He wore a dark, aged T-shirt that stretched along his shoulders and biceps as he moved. It stirred her senses. He reminded her of a calendar she once had in college that featured gorgeous blue-collar males. Firemen. Cops. Construction workers. All clothed and tastefully done, but nonetheless shining examples of male beauty.
Swallowing hard, she silently lamented, Lord, this isn’t helping. Why can’t I see attraction in the right man for a change? I didn’t even think Ron was this cute at first, and he had a few of the qualities I’ve been looking for. This guy is so off-the-mark for me….
From what she could see, he didn’t fit a single thing she wanted in a life mate. Short-tempered. Short on advanced education. Limited horizons.
Although to be fair, she didn’t think J. D. Sullivan short on intelligence—he just didn’t apply it to help himself much.
She had a mental list of the qualities, interests and goals she wanted—hoped and prayed—to share with a husband. Truth be known, she had a written list, too, one she’d made out at twenty. And revised at twenty-five. Now she’d have to look at it again, she supposed.
But all in all, there was something different about this man. J. D. Sullivan had an element she had yet to put her finger on.
He glanced up at that moment. In the sunlight, his brown eyes glinted with golden sparks. His mouth moved. Not in a smile exactly, but with an involuntary acknowledgment of her presence.
It was quickly hidden before he said, “Almost got it done.”
She glanced away, letting her gaze rove the school yard. “Where’s Cliff? I thought he’d be here with you this morning.”
“He’s right—” J.D. stopped what he was doing and shrugged. After glancing around, he let out a disgusted breath. “Well, he was there a minute ago. On his skateboard.”
He stuck his head back under the hood, mumbling. “That boy is just asking for it. I’m likely to lock him in his room and throw away the key if he keeps this up. Told him to stay close by, but he keeps disappearing on me. Kid can’t seem to follow the simplest orders.”
A flare of irritation shot up her body. She tried to tamp it down, realizing she did not know the circumstances of their situation. This adjustment was extremely difficult on both of them, and it touched a sympathetic chord in her. But…how dare J.D. treat his son with such flippant lack of concern? Didn’t he love the child at all? Didn’t he care what the boy got himself into? Where he went?
Cliff must feel the loss of his mother keenly. How could the child cope with a father who rebuffed him?
Alexis felt so blessed. She’d had a loving set of parents and two older sisters to nurture her through childhood. They accepted her completely. Plus she had a plethora of extended family to fill her life. There never was a time when she hadn’t felt wanted and cherished. Even after her recent breakup with Ron, she’d never doubted her family’s love, nor her Lord’s.
She leaned against the car door, silently praying, Father, give me patience…and wisdom….
Perhaps that was the major problem. Just maybe neither of these two felt loved. According to the paperwork she had, this father and son had only each other. And since they’d just been reunited after a five-year absence, they were near strangers. Perhaps J.D. didn’t know how to love his son. Or even know what it was to love.
You’re the teacher….
Her breath came sharply and lodged uncomfortably just under her breastbone. J.D glanced her way, his expression quizzical.
“Cliff is probably on the other playground,” she said abruptly. Turning on her heel, Alexis went to search for him. “I’ll find him.”
She sprinted around the building to the small playground in back of the original section of the school. Then she rounded the corner, seeing no one. She wasn’t surprised. This field was seldom used anymore because most of the classes found it too small.
She heard children’s voices and noisy activity from up the way. Crossing the street, she hurried along the old broken sidewalk. Still yards distant, she spotted three boys.
It wasn’t a friendly scene.
Skateboard raised high above his head, Randy Brown’s irritated voice floated out to her. Alexis remembered him from last year, her first year of teaching in Sunny Creek. The boy was two grades higher than Cliff, half a head taller and a bit of a bully. He was yelling in strident tones, “You don’t know nothin’, brat, so just stuff it.”
Jason Kell, also two years older and even taller than Randy, stood with arms crossed, glaring at Cliff.
When she strolled up to them, he rolled his eyes in distaste, letting her know his opinion of the younger boy.
Cliff had his back to her. He didn’t seem to notice their ire. He was talking a mile a minute. “I do so. I can do lots of tricks. I watched how they do it out in California. They’re better’n any of you guys. They have a monster track. I’m going to be a champion and stuff, just like them. You wait to see.”
Her first instinct was that she’d arrived just in time. It was clear that Cliff had worn out his welcome.
As she smiled at the older boys, she saw recognition of her teacher’s status flash across Randy’s face.
“Hi, guys.”
They mumbled a hello. Cliff kept talking.
“Cliff?”
He glanced over his shoulder impatiently. “Yeah?”
She held out her hand. “Let’s go. Your dad wants you.”
“He’s busy doing something else,” he protested. He dropped his skateboard, stepping up and pushing off to ride the length of the concrete drive. Away from her.
“Yes, but he wants you now.” She firmed her tone. “Come along, we need to go.”
The skateboard hit a bump and tipped. Cliff jumped off awkwardly, barely avoiding a fall. Randy and Jason snickered.
Cliff glared with all the ferocity of a wolf pup.
Alexis hid her sigh. Cliff already sported skinned knees, so she suspected he’d taken a number of recent falls. She didn’t see much of his father’s grace in the boy’s movements. He would have to grow into that, she supposed. It might take a while.
Meantime, he was ripe for all the teasing grief he’d already encountered. If only he didn’t invite it.
She casually moved toward him, not wanting to cause alarm. Yet her movement held command.
“I don’t see why I have to leave.” Cliff’s tone was contentious. “He’s looking at your car.”
“That’s right. But he’s almost through and he needs you.” She tipped her head, giving her statement additional authority. “Now, let’s go.”
Cliff’s face took on all the aspects of the proverbial Missouri mule. But after a moment, he picked up his board and followed her up the terrace to the playground. “I don’t see why I can’t stay here…”
Out of earshot of the other boys, she slowed her step to let him walk alongside of her. “I know you like to ride your board, Cliff,” she said in sympathy. “There will be other times when you can practice.”
“But I wanted to show those guys.” His eyes, even darker that his dad’s, took on a soulful, puppy dog despair.
Feeling a rush of compassion, Alexis reached out and ruffled his hair with affection. “Maybe you will. So…how long have you had your skateboard?”
Although still pouting, Cliff seemed to relax. After a moment, he moved closer, making an effort to match his step with hers while he chattered about the thrills of skateboarding.
As they arrived at the car, J.D. wiped his hands and glanced up. His bright gaze questioned, but he asked nothing about where she’d found the boy.
“Is it ready?” Alexis asked.
Cliff let his board clang to the asphalt and shot away.
“Nope. Needs more than just a new water hose. You should have it checked over thoroughly before you drive it.”
“Oh…” Disappointment washed over her. She’d have to arrange for a few rides until her car was running again. She couldn’t afford to trade this one in just yet. “What’s wrong with it now?”
“Don’t know for sure. But Bill, from the car repair over at Fifth and Main, most likely can tell you. Reckon you can get a loaner from him if you need to.”
“Oh, well. That will have to do, I guess.”
“I’m hungry,” Cliff complained, coming up to them. “You said we’d eat real soon.”
“You haven’t had breakfast?” Alexis asked.
“Nothing in the house but boring old cereal,” Cliff complained.
“Better than nothing, Cliff,” J.D. stated. “If you were really hungry, you’d eat it.”
Alexis glanced at her watch. Almost nine. Around them, the neighborhood activity had begun to pick up.
“Are you late in opening your shop?” she asked J.D. What did those initials stand for, anyway?
“Not really.” He picked up the last of his tools and slammed the hood closed. “Don’t open till ten most days in the off-season. Come summer, I’ll open at nine on Saturdays.”
The day yawned before her, long and empty. Oh, there were always household chores and laundry to do. School papers to grade. But she’d counted on driving to the outlying shopping center to find a new spring outfit, and now that she couldn’t do that, she felt she couldn’t stand to be indoors on such a fine spring day.
“Then, let me buy you two breakfast,” she offered impulsively. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”
J.D.’s mouth tightened as he bent to his toolbox. He took out some cleaning gel and squirted a dollop into his palm. “That’s not necessary. Just helping you out.”
“I appreciate that, to be sure.” Alexis watched J.D. rub his palms together, then smooth the gel over his fingers. He took particular care around his nails, she noted.
“But I’m hungry, too,” she insisted. “And Cliff has worked up quite an appetite, I’ll bet.” She turned to the boy. “Do you like pancakes?”
“Uh-huh.” Cliff gave her a curious look, bright with anticipation.
“Then, how about the Pancake House in the old part of town? They offer steak and eggs, too. A hearty breakfast to last the day is always good. I’d say you earned it.”
She waited for J.D.’s answer, noticing the gleam in his eyes, and wondered what she’d let herself in for. But what could it hurt? It was only breakfast, and they all needed to eat. Besides, this was for Cliff as much as anything. If she could do something to make Cliff’s adjustment to his new environment easier, then she helped herself as well, right? He’d do better in class.
“Sounds okay by me,” J.D. said. He flashed a smile that sent her tummy into a wild, dancing dip. Oh, mercy… What had she gotten herself into?
There was no way she could back out now. She’d feel a fool. She’d simply make the best of it.
J.D. closed his toolbox and placed it in his truck. Then he held the door wide. “Hop in. After breakfast we can run by Bill’s place and see when he can work on the car.”
Whether the truck was ever meant to accommodate a small person, Alexis had no idea. The step up left her no dignity, she mused as she stared at it. But at least this time she was better prepared.
His hand came under her elbow, lifting her into the front seat. Cliff climbed in beside her, his thin body taking more space than she’d suspect. J.D. slid in under the wheel, his shoulder brushing hers as he turned the ignition key. A masculine fragrance tickled her nose, making her wonder what soap he used.
She tried to scoot closer to Cliff’s side of the bench seat, but there wasn’t much room.
“That’ll do it.”
That’s what she was afraid of….
“By the way…” she began, unable to help herself as he paused before pulling out on the street. “Just what does the J.D. stand for?”
This time his grin held a definite impish tilt. “Why, it’s James Dean, ma’am. After that fifties movie star best known for his rebel roles.”

Chapter Four
“Hi there, J.D.” The perky brunette waitress’s blue eyes lit in a coltish glance. The twenty-something young woman seemed vaguely familiar, but Alexis couldn’t place her.
Alexis wasn’t surprised at someone knowing her companion. She’d long ago discovered the truth of all small towns: those born and raised there seemed to know each other. Or about each other at least.
Neither was she surprised that J.D. had his female fans. She imagined he had quite a few—though at the moment he seemed not to notice.
“Hi yourself, Tina.” J.D. returned the smile with a casual nod.
Cliff spotted the video machines in the back corner and made a beeline toward them.
“You haven’t been around much lately.” With a flashing glance, Tina let him know how much she’d missed him.
Alexis listened to the murmurs of the busy restaurant and then intercepted a curious glance from a man sitting at the counter.
She bit at her lower lip, wondering who else noticed them. What had she expected? But if she’d realized J.D. was so well known here, she’d have suggested one of the new places out on the highway.
Just forget it, she told herself. Living with a bit of gossip is part of living in a small town.
Yet she’d have a lot of explaining to do eventually when her fellow teachers heard of this morning’s events. This is for a student…. she mentally practiced her excuse. The child just lost his mom. He needs some help adjusting to his new home…his new environment….
They were real reasons—not merely excuses—but it didn’t quite explain the social interaction in which she now found herself. Yet what else could she do? The child needed help. That had nothing to do with how attractive she found the father.
Alexis discreetly followed Cliff. The boy grabbed the joystick of the first machine, making the buzzing noises of an airplane.
“Been busy,” J.D. replied to Tina. “You can tell your dad I found the parts he wants for his old two-stroke engine. They’ll come in by next weekend.”
“Sure, J.D., I’ll tell him. D’you want your usual place at the counter?”
“Let’s have that back booth this morning, Tina. There’s three of us.”
Alexis glanced over her shoulder in time to catch Tina’s surprise. “Oh, sure, okay….”
So not everyone yet knew about Cliff coming to live with his dad.
“Dad, can I have some money?” Cliff called across the restaurant. A few heads turned their way in curiosity. J.D. nodded to one or two on his way to the back booth.
Well, the whole town would know now.
“I’ll get you some menus,” Tina said brightly.
I’ll bet Tina knows exactly what J.D. will order, Alexis mused, without looking at a menu.
“Come sit down, Cliff,” J.D. said. “Let’s order first.”
“That’s a good idea,” Alexis said. She put her hand on the boy’s shoulder to lightly guide him toward the back corner booth. “I’m starved and I hear the blueberry pancakes are wonderful here.”
Cliff slid into the booth next to his dad, leaning his head into his hand. He stared at Tina. “Are you my dad’s girlfriend?”
“Uh, no.” The young woman started, then blushed to the roots of her hair. “My boyfriend…he…isn’t from around here.”
“Cliff, can’t you keep your mouth shut?” J.D. said.
“I only asked. What’s wrong with that?”
Alexis immediately felt sorry for the girl. It seemed obvious to her that Tina had a crush on J.D. But was J.D. aware of that?
“That’s none of your business, Cliff.” J.D. narrowed his eyes and spoke firmly. “But for your information, her dad and I are good fishing buddies. That’s all.” He turned to the young waitress. “Sorry, Tina. Guess I have to teach my son some manners. Let’s order.”
Cliff lost interest. As Tina took their orders, he began to swing his foot, kicking the seat.
“Cliff!” J.D. said, his tone firm.
“What?”
“Stop kicking.”
The boy stopped, but only a moment passed before he grabbed the salt and pepper shakers to march them across the table with clacking noises. Without comment, Alexis reached across and took the shakers out of his hands. She gently set them aside.
A grateful flash from J.D.’s dark gaze sent a warm glow to her heart. Along with it came all kinds of other messages of awareness…his vulnerability being most prominent. Her fingertips itched to touch his hand in reassurance. As a parent, he seemed totally helpless. But surely any parent would know how difficult a special-needs child could be….
That was the major problem, though, she was beginning to understand. J.D. didn’t know, he hadn’t a clue. She opened her mouth to offer something to soothe him, but he’d slipped away somewhere in his thoughts.

You’re a washout, boy, came an old refrain inside J.D.’s head. Can’t you do anything right? An echo from too many yesterdays, painful and loud in the household where he’d grown up. His own father had shown little patience with a son who would rather spend time at an auto repair shop than school, home or studies.
He was still a washout, he guessed. Melanie had told him so often enough. As a husband. As a father.
He immediately cut off that line of thought. So he wasn’t good husband material. What did that matter? He didn’t have to be, since he had no intention of getting married again. And as a dad, it was up to him now, wasn’t it? And given time, he’d learn to deal with his son, learn to be a better father than he had had.
Tina filled their coffee cups, then left. J.D. leaned back and glanced at Alexis. She’d pulled off her ball cap, letting her ponytail dangle. He had the urge to finger it, to see if it was as soft as it looked. But this was his son’s teacher…and her sympathetic blue gaze held more than a little speculation.
He shifted uncomfortably to stare silently at the far wall. He didn’t know what to say next. This wasn’t like a date, now was it?
“I seem to remember seeing Tina at our church service,” Alexis said by way of conversation. “She sits with a girlfriend when the college kids are home on break.”
“Hmm,” J.D. answered.
“We have an active teen group. But there’s not many of Tina’s age around on a normal Sunday.”
He stirred his coffee, working on thinking about how much he had to do at his shop and not how Alexis’s hair reminded him of corn silk. Or how dumb she must think he was.
“I’ve heard that once kids graduate high school here, most of them leave either for college or to work in the larger cities,” she continued. “Not too much in this town by way of employment.”
J.D. secretly studied Alexis’s slim fingers. Ringless today. Light polish over short, well-shaped nails.
She made small talk to fill his silence, he knew. Something he wasn’t good at anytime, but especially not with this kind of woman. Nothing in common. Anyway, he’d never felt the need to constantly fill the air with the sound of his own voice. Unless he discussed engines, or fishing and the state of the lakes. Nah—small talk with women always felt too awkward.
Anyway, he preferred to simply look at a teacher; teachers had always given him a headache. He didn’t see a need to talk to one if a guy didn’t have to.
And looking at this one in particular was okay. Actually, a pure number ten on the pleasure scale. And if he forgot she was a teacher and thought of her merely as a female….
He liked the way her mouth moved when she talked. If she taught any of those extension classes the high school offered adults, he might just be tempted to take one.
He suddenly noticed Alexis’s blue gaze fastened on him expectantly. A softness, sweet beyond sweet potato pie, filled her gaze. A shaft of out-and-out pleasure shot through him as straight as a well-aimed dart. If he didn’t watch it, she’d send him into a tailspin of wants—and where would that get him? On the nowhere road. She was his son’s teacher. Nothing more.
Small talk…what was it she had said? About the jobs available in town?
“Seasonal stuff,” J.D. answered absently. “Most years are good, but not always steady.”
Cliff whistled tunelessly. Neither melodiously nor under his breath.
“Cliff.” J.D. let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his temple with his thumb. The kid would make a sphinx yelp in protest.
“Can I play the videos while we wait?”
“Sure, why not.” He felt weak for giving in to his son’s constant demands, but he’d had about enough of frazzled nerves for the morning. Beyond that, he and his son hadn’t yet made friends with each other.
More proof that, as a father, he was a dud….
He dug into his pocket and pulled out change, then counted out all the quarters he had. “Make that do.”
Cliff grabbed the coins and scooted out of the booth.
J.D. sat without speaking. He savored the next moment of quiet before a creeping awareness of guilt snaked up his consciousness. What kind of a father was he, to never want his son around? To feel no closeness to the boy?
And whose fault is that? You could have gone to California to see him. Could have sought joint custody. Could have demanded proof of Melanie’s claims that Cliff wasn’t yours….
That issue had been put to rest once and for all in Melanie’s last letter. The one she’d written as she lay dying. And there was always DNA testing these days. But he didn’t need it. Cliff was his, all right. He saw too much of himself in the boy to doubt it. No, the fault was his.
“Guess I’ll never be a good dad.”
“Why do you say that?” Alexis asked.
He hadn’t really intended on getting into a discussion with Miss Richmond on this subject right now; he didn’t want her to dig too deep.
But he did need help. Only God knew how much.
He swallowed the last of his coffee and looked around to catch Tina’s eye for a refill, to no avail. Tina chatted with a customer at the far end of the counter. He couldn’t find any excuse for postponement from that direction.
“Can’t make the kid mind,” he finally said. On his side of the table he shoved his knife and fork from place to place. It was embarrassing to voice all his failures. He wasn’t used to it. “He doesn’t listen and I lose my temper. I have no patience.”
“James…”
It came softly from her lips, implying intimacy. Caught off guard, he glanced up. She held his gaze and wouldn’t let go. He felt his stomach go south.
“You don’t mind if I call you James, do you? Instead of J.D.?”
“Nah,” he mumbled. “Guess not.”
“Well, James, may I ask you a few questions?”
Amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth. Questions? She hadn’t asked permission before now. “Teachers do, don’t they?” He smiled.
“Yes, I suppose they do,” she said ruefully. “Often. Okay, since you don’t mind… Did Cliff listen to you when you and his mother were together?”
“Nope.” Now he felt worse. He hadn’t thought much about that before. “Never did, I guess. Even when he was two or three. I couldn’t… Guess I never got the hang of being a good dad.”
He’d left too much for Melanie to take care of while he worked two jobs to support them. At the time, he’d thought that enough.
“Now I don’t know what to do next,” he admitted, ashamed that he couldn’t seem to find a pathway that worked.
“Parenting is always one step at a time,” she commented. “Nobody learns it in one fell swoop. Besides, I don’t know any perfect parents. All of them make a mistake or two.”
“Yeah, but I…” His pent-up breath pained him as he let it go. “I have to admit I haven’t been around much for the boy. None at all these past years.”
“Why was that?” she asked. Her gentleness in asking the question wiped out whatever sense of intrusion he might normally have felt.
“Seemed easy enough when that’s what his mother wanted.” He shrugged. The excuses he’d used all these years no longer seemed valid, even to himself. “Didn’t see much sense in letting Cliff see us at our worst. Fighting all the time. But if I’d taken more interest, maybe Cliff wouldn’t be such a mess now.”
“James, you couldn’t have prevented all of Cliff’s problems. Even the best of parents can have children with a hyperactivity disorder or some kind of learning disability.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…now the complete evaluation hasn’t yet been done, but I think your son has Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder—ADHD. He’s a child who simply can’t pay attention or control his impulses.”
“You mean, he’s not just spoiled?”
Alexis chuckled. “Oh, he’s a bit spoiled, all right. I suspect he’s been given his own way all too often. He does seem to think he’s entitled to indulge his every whim. But it’s not beyond repair.”
“What you’re telling me is…this isn’t all my fault?” A sudden hope sparked his thoughts. He sat straighter and leaned forward.
“Not at all. He simply needs specialized teaching. Direction for studies, specific direction for his social exchanges.”
“Specific directions?” His heart beat with an out-of-sequence ping. What she was telling him made real sense.
“Like how? What…what can I do?”
“For one thing, you can set firm, consistent boundaries for him at home, then stick to them. But…not with spanking, please. There are other disciplines to use. We’ll do the same for him at school. We’ll do our best to teach him to focus on his studies.”
“You think he’ll improve then?”
“I think there’s a one-hundred-percent probability.”
“What else?”
“I think…” She hesitated, tucking her chin in and biting her lip. “I don’t want to step over the line here, James. I’m Cliff’s teacher, not a psychologist.”
“Tell me. Please. I don’t need any of the usual professional jargon.”
“It’s only my opinion.”
“And I asked for it, Alexis.” All at once it didn’t feel at all awkward to address her by her given name. And more to the point, she didn’t seem to notice. He watched the way she pressed her lips together, the way she folded her hands in front of her, teacherlike, making up her mind to say what she honestly thought.
“Have you talked with him, yet, about the loss of his mother?”
That one surprised him. “Not more than a few words. He doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.”
Alexis thought about that a moment. “Perhaps that will come later. After he trusts you more. Meanwhile, I think Cliff is in need of lots of love.”
“Love? I love the boy.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do. But you need to show him some affection, James.”
“Affection?”
“Hugs. A pat on the back. Show that you care.”
Hugs? Cliff was nine years old. Hugging a boy child of nine seemed— Wasn’t that too old? But he could manage pats on the back, he supposed.
Tina was heading their way with their order.
“I’d bet Cliff would even still welcome a nighttime tuck-in before he sleeps,” Alexis said.
“Tuck him in?” he mumbled. “At nine?” That was really stretching it, but…
“Here you go,” Tina said, putting dishes on the table.
Alexis smiled with an encouragement that lit his heart like a Roman candle. What did he have to lose by trying her methods?
“Uh…time to eat.” He rose and strode over to the video machines. Placing a hand on his son’s shoulder, he murmured next to his ear, then nodded toward their booth. He said nothing when Cliff raced recklessly across the room.
Alexis smiled a welcome for Cliff, nodding to his pancakes. Maybe she’d suggested they have breakfast together as a way of doing her teacher thing, J.D. mused, but they’d covered more ground than just his son’s problems. She acted like a friend.
More than a friend?
An image rose in his mind of a bedtime routine. He wouldn’t mind being tucked into bed himself. If the tucker was Alexis.
It made him smile. A smile that remained as he slipped into the booth.
The quizzical glance she gave him was worth twice the price of breakfast. His smile broadened. Maybe he could get into this teacher-parent thing after all.

Chapter Five
Cliff dug into his backpack, hauling out books, grubby loose papers, a sports magazine and a package of cheese crackers, before he pulled out the envelope Alexis had sent home with him Friday night. Alexis had written a short account of Cliff’s week at school. It was only a slim margin more successful than those first few days.
He flipped it onto her desk, then ambled toward his seat.
“Thank you, Cliff,” Alexis said. A piece of popcorn tumbled from the envelope as she picked it up, making her smile. She pulled out the note. As he’d done twice before, James had responded on the back of the paper.
Funny, how eager she felt to read what had been up to now only a sentence or two.
Ah, progress felt sweet. Even this tiny bit of progress. This was a whole paragraph.
“We had a half-decent weekend,” James wrote. “Cliff came to the shop with me on Saturday. Found him unexpectedly at the top of the high ladder once, looking at the inventory on the top shelf. Followed your advice. Didn’t yell at him. Asked him to tell me what was there, then thanked him for his help. He came down when I asked him to. So far, popcorn seems to do him as a substitute snack to candy. Thanks again, Miss Richmond.”
He’d signed it with his full name.
She rubbed her thumb over the James Dean Sullivan. It summoned a mental image of that half smile and the cocky gleam shooting from his glance. Oh, my! It seemed a long week plus a weekend since their breakfast together.
Beyond that, the thought that some of her suggestions were successful for Cliff and his father was heady stuff. It warmed her heart. Alexis’s initial reaction was to sit and immediately respond. Instead, she called the class to order and began her school day.
Yet the glow from James’s note threaded her whole morning, and by afternoon she wondered if she dare invite James Dean Sullivan and his son to the spring picnic her Bible Study group had on their calendar for the next Sunday afternoon. Her study group mostly consisted of couples, but a few singles like herself attended. The picnic was to be a family affair. Kids of all ages would be there, and hopefully Cliff could find a friend. He sure needed one.
It seemed a very personal invitation.
Too personal? she asked herself.
She frowned slightly, struggling with it. Surely it would be fine. Why not? She didn’t think they ever went to church because Cliff had talked of sleeping late on Sunday. And James could only benefit by joining a Bible Study. Cliff needed the kind of love only the Lord could provide. Why wouldn’t it be okay to ask them to a worship service, then the picnic following? It was the kind thing to do.
Oh, sure, that was her reason all right, she thought in disgust. It was the kind thing to do? Who was she fooling? It still remained a personal invitation.
But was it really wise to make this so personal? It would feed the gossips.
Yet wise or not, Cliff and James needed more than they had right now. A church fellowship could only help them further cement their relationship.
It all made perfect sense to her, but still she should leave it to James, she mused. She wondered about his spiritual health. He’d said nothing about his relationship with God during their few talks. She’d already made the suggestion once to him to find a church to attend. There was a fine line between helpfulness and intrusion, she knew, and for some people, this was very private business.
Besides, they had nothing personal in common at all—no matter how sexy the guy’s grin was.
Yet an hour later, she knew she couldn’t leave it alone, either. Just before the last bell of the day, she gave in and scribbled a note of invitation for Cliff to take to James. Before she could second-guess herself, she included her home phone number.
Overstepping herself or not, it still felt right for her to help a student who needed it. And his father.
At home that night Alexis filled her evening with reading student papers and giving her tiny kitchen an extra clean. She kept her cell phone close by as she hauled two loads of laundry to the basement and completed it.
James didn’t call.
At eleven she climbed into bed, refusing to admit disappointment. Why should she? Inviting him to the church picnic had been only an impulse….
At five minutes past seven the next morning, the phone rang. This early in the day, a phone call usually meant something extra going on at school, or an emergency.
At the point of gathering her hair into a ponytail, she clasped two hair clips between her teeth and tucked the phone under her chin. “Hello,” she mumbled.
“’Lo. This is J.D.” His voice held an early-morning huskiness, which sent goose bumps skittering across her arms.
Her heart hit a bump in its rhythm. The hair clips went flying as she spat them out. “Uh, hello, James. What’s up?”
“Didn’t get your note till this morning.”
“Oh. Didn’t Cliff do his homework?”
“Uh, yeah. Sort of. Didn’t get it finished, I’m afraid. My fault. I had a shipment of parts come in that I had to take care of, so I… Sorry. Didn’t get home till nearly midnight. I didn’t have time to check it till this morning.”
“I see. Well, we’ll have to work on it during study time.”
“Okay. Thanks. About Sunday…”
“Yes?”
“We’ll come.”
Her heart bumped again, then settled down, racing only a tad. This was definitely good for Cliff. For them both. The idea of spending more time with James didn’t hover as a great chore, either.
“Great.” She was glad he couldn’t see her. See the smile she couldn’t hide. “I think you know where the church is?”
“Yeah, sure do.” His tone picked up enthusiasm. “We’ll be there on time. Should we bring something for the picnic?”
“Not this time. There’ll be enough food for an army. It’s out at the Bender farm by a creek that feeds into the lake. Cliff can bring his fishing pole if he wants to.”
There was a slight hesitation before he said, “I don’t think Cliff is into fishing, but I’ll pack a couple of rods just in case. One for you, too.”
“Uh, well, I don’t really fish.”
“Then, I’ll teach you.”
“I hate to tell you this, James, being a teacher and all—” Alexis moistened her lips “—but I don’t relish picking up live worms, much less sticking them on a hook.”
His deep chuckle tickled her ear. She had a sinking feeling she shouldn’t have told him.
“You don’t have to handle live worms, Alexis. I’ll take care of the bait for you.”
“Thank goodness.” She rushed on to say, “I wouldn’t want Cliff to see his teacher freaking out over such a little thing as picking up a worm. But honestly, when I was a kid, science was my worst subject because I couldn’t bring myself to touch anything slimy.”
“And you haven’t outgrown that aversion, hmm?” His tone held a note of amusement.
A sense of horror stole over her. “You’re not going to hold that over my head, are you?”
“It’s mighty tempting. I can just imagine what Cliff would do with that piece of information about our Miss Richmond.”
Could he imagine Cliff using it, or himself? What kind of child had James been? As mischievous as she suspected? Something in her growing knowledge of him told her he may have caused his mother to go gray early.
“It wouldn’t help much in class, either,” she muttered.
“Don’t worry. I won’t cause you any trouble in class. It’s only— Never mind. I’ll see you Sunday.”
They rang off, leaving Alexis’s ears ringing with James’s chortles.
That may have been a big mistake—her honesty over handling worms. She shook her head and grabbed her brush, then left her hair to hang about her face without clips. She was likely to be late for school.
She parked in her usual spot and exited her car just as Lori Donato, the regular fifth-grade teacher, parked next to her.
“Hi, Alexis,” Lori called as she slid her plump form from her car and reached for a canvas bag. “I’ve been meaning to catch up with you. Do you have a free period today? We need to discuss the field trip up to the Truman Museum if we’re going to do it next month.”
“You’re right, we should make some plans soon.” Alexis hefted her own overly full briefcase and pocketed her keys. “How about during lunch?”
“That’ll do. When—”
A familiar black truck slowed to an idle alongside them. It was impossible not to notice him. James hung one arm out his window.
Cliff slid out the other side.
“Morning, Miss Richmond,” James said with a smile as deliberate as four beats to a measure. Somehow, after their recent interaction, his formal address sounded more like a spoken intimacy.
“Good morning.” Alexis stepped closer to the truck, fighting the desire to let her own silly grin explode.
She glanced at Cliff as he rounded the truck, and her budding smile dwindled. The child sported droopy eyes. Had he been as late getting to bed as his dad? That would make for a trying day.
Keeping a school child up late…
Alexis tried to tamp down her vexation. Single parenting had its pitfalls and she didn’t think James had any backup when he had to work late. Keeping his child with him at the shop was the lesser of two evils, she supposed, compared to leaving him at home alone.
From the few remarks Cliff had made, Alexis suspected that had been a problem in the past. The boy’s mother had left him alone far too often to make a solitary meal on hot dogs, soda and chips, and then with no one to take notice, to put himself to bed. In spite of it all, James’s choice to take Cliff to work with him was the better one.
“Hiya, Lori.” James addressed the other teacher.
“Hi there, J.D.” Lori spoke with familiarity. “How have you been? Heard about Cliff coming home to live with you. Sorry about Melanie. Are you making out all right these days?”
“Learning. With a little help from my friends….”His glance, warm with gratitude, rested on Alexis.
Lori’s glance moved to Alexis, as well. “Uh, that’s good. Can never have too many friends. And Miss Richmond is a good teacher.”
Alexis clutched her bag tighter as a flush climbed her cheeks. “Thanks. But it’s my job.”
“That picnic is a terrific idea, Alexis,” James said, reclaiming her attention. His hair appeared as tousled as Cliff’s, and she wanted to ask him where his hair-brush had got to—only she rather liked it in its disheveled state. “Cliff and I can use the break.”
The tall, thin figure of their district school superintendent, Mr. Fisher, appeared out of nowhere. The county was building new offices, but until they were complete, the district’s temporary office was across from the school. They shared the parking lot.
“Good morning, ladies. Staff meeting at the last bell today, you recall.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/ruth-scofield/take-my-hand/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.