Authors: Rebecca H Jamison
“He died of a prescription drug overdose,” he said and then swallowed.
It still hurt to say those words. “He got hooked after his back surgery.”
Her brows drew together in a crease. “How awful. I’m sorry.”
He rubbed his forehead. It was hard to look her in the eye for the next
part. “I didn’t know how bad it had gotten for him until afterward. His friends
had all quit talking to him. My parents ignored the problem. And I didn’t make
time for him like I should have. After he died, I decided I couldn’t let anyone
else go through what he went through.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Her soft words emerged like the song of angels,
offering the forgiveness he craved.
He had to remind himself that she had only said them because she didn’t
know the whole story. “That’s why I bought the ranch—to help people like Cody.”
Rosie tipped her head to the side. “So you’re building a bed and
breakfast to raise money for people like your brother?”
“The resort is
for
people like my brother.” He looked her in the
eyes, realization dawning. “I thought everyone understood that when they gave
permission.”
“The letter from your lawyer didn’t say anything about drug addicts.”
Her tone took a serious turn, and her jaw tightened.
He rushed to reassure her. “They’ll be people who have already gone
through rehab, and they’ll sign contracts before they come, agreeing to take
regular drug tests.” He wanted to tell her that the letter from his lawyer had
spelled everything out clearly, but, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t
ever read the letter. Since it wasn’t a medical facility, maybe it hadn’t been
legally necessary to mention what type of guests he would receive. “I’m sorry
if the letter didn’t make that clear. Your safety will be my highest priority.”
“So, these people.” She spoke with caution, hesitating as she examined
his face. “Will they be driving?”
“Some of them.”
“What’s to stop them from driving under the influence?” She folded her
arms. “We’re less than an hour away from the casino on the reservation, and
there are plenty of bars in town.”
He kept his voice calm and soft. “If any of my guests slip up, they’ll
know they can call us for a ride. And speaking of the reservation, I’m hoping I
can help some of the people out there too.”
She let out a breathy laugh. “As if they could afford to go to a
resort.”
“Then I’ll take them for free. I’m here to help people, not to make
money.”
Rosie narrowed her eyes at him. She seemed more confused than angry,
but he couldn’t be sure. “We’ll have to talk about this later,” she said. “I
have get back to Grandpa now.”
Destry walked with her to the house, his palms beginning to sweat. “I’m
happy to talk any time. I want to make sure you’re comfortable with my plans.”
Rosie wasn’t the only neighbor he needed to win over to his plan either. He
needed to get the whole town on his side. Likely, many of them felt the same as
she did.
She nodded, her lips forming a tight line while her eyes scrunched
downward. She looked almost sad. “Bye, Destry. Thanks for your help.”
“Anytime.”
All he had wanted to do was help, but somehow, once again, he had made
everything worse. Plus, he had stepped so far out of his comfort zone that he
was beginning to lose his confidence. It was time to do something that came
more easily for him, something that would take him off his ranch and into the
lives of his neighbors.
Rosie took full advantage of the casual dress code for the first
teacher work day after summer break. Donning her best pair of jeans, a crisp
white button-up shirt, and her grandmother’s turquoise jewelry, she arrived at
the school fifteen minutes early.
She wasn’t one to keep her mouth shut about her concerns, and today she
had a big one. Why hadn’t they hired Tanner for the science teacher position?
It was true she had an ulterior motive, considering he’d asked her to marry
him, but that had nothing to do with it. Tanner was completely qualified. He
had his certification and had proven his ability as a substitute teacher for
the past two years.
She hadn’t yet told Tanner she’d marry him but had grasped onto that
plan. A partnership with him made sense. Other than her grandparents, he had
been the one constant in her life—as reliable as the old apple tree that
tolerated both drought and flood, never failing to yield fruit. Besides that,
he was her best friend. Didn’t everyone say you should marry your best friend?
She marched into Principal Moore’s cramped office. The old brick school
was at least seventy years old, and, though it now had air conditioning, some
rooms were still pretty hot in the summer. The principal’s office felt like an
oven, even with a little fan blowing from the corner. She found Mr. Moore wiping
sweat from the top of his bald head as he sifted through a stack of folders on
his desk. He was a tall, thin man whose reading glasses rested on the end of
his nose. “I’d like to talk to you about the science teacher position,” Rosie
said. “I was thinking—”
“I filled the position this morning. I’m sure you’ll be pleased with
our new hire.”
“This morning?” That’s why Rosie hadn’t heard from Tanner about it. He
hadn’t signed the contract until this morning. She smiled as she imagined
sitting in the teacher’s lounge having lunch with Tanner.
“Yes, and that brings up another topic. You haven’t answered my e-mail
about the changes to your schedule.” He didn’t bother to look at her as he
spoke.
“Oh,” Rosie said. “Um.” The truth was she hadn’t checked her e-mail
since Wile E’s injury.
He pulled a folder from his stack and opened it. “Would it be okay if I
switched your schedule around a little? Ms. Klein’s old schedule didn’t really
mesh with the new teacher’s areas of expertise.”
He probably wanted Tanner to teach chemistry and biology. “That’s fine,”
Rosie said. “I’ve taught all the science classes before.”
“I wouldn’t have made the changes if you hadn’t. I put a copy of the
new schedule in your box. We’re printing out the final student schedules later
today, so speak now or forever hold your peace. I’ve already had a few angry
parents wanting to know why they haven’t received them yet.” He peered at her
over the top of his reading glasses, waiting for her answer.
She flipped through the stack of papers she’d collected from her box,
but couldn’t find her printed schedule. “It won’t be a problem.”
He pushed his glasses up on his nose and stared down at the folder. “And
I assume you’re okay being a mentor teacher. You didn’t answer that e-mail
either.”
Rosie wondered for a second if it was completely ethical to be her
fiancé’s mentor. “If you think I’m the best one for the job.”
“I wouldn’t have given you the job if I didn’t think you were.” Mr.
Moore pushed the folders to the side of his desk. “We better get down to the
faculty meeting,” he said. Rosie noticed Alan Erskine’s student file at the top
of the stack.
“If you ask me, Alan Erskine needs professional counseling.” Rosie
realized once she’d spoken that she’d been a little too bold. School-wide
discipline wasn’t her domain. “He has a lot to deal with at home. It’s no
wonder his mouth gets him into trouble.” The truth was, Rosie related to Alan.
She knew what it was like to deal with multiple stepdads.
During his mother’s last breakup, Alan had come to school, over and
over again, with the smell of hard liquor on his breath. What made it even
worse was that he was over six feet tall and at least two-hundred and fifty
pounds.
Once, he’d been drunk enough to make a pass at Rosie. She hadn’t
reported him. You had to guard your reputation in a small town like Lone Spur.
There was already plenty of talk about Rosie dating a man four years younger
than herself. How would it be if Betty found out that Alan made a pass at her?
“Alan’s an intelligent boy,” Rosie said, trying to sound objective, “but
as teachers, we just can’t give him the help he needs.”
Principal Moore gave her a cursory “thank you.” He grabbed another
stack of files and headed for the auditorium, where they held their faculty
meetings. They arrived to find four rows of teachers sitting there. The
auditorium was exactly the same as it had been when Rosie went to school,
complete with the gold velvet curtain across the stage and the purple painted
letters on the wall that read, “Spurred on to Victory.”
The principal glanced around at the other teachers and whispered, “The
new hire isn’t here yet. I’ll introduce him when he arrives. It’s going to be a
banner year for our science department.”
She wasn’t sure why Mr. Moore was so reluctant to say the name of the
new hire. Maybe he had hired someone from Morrisville or Copper City—someone
Rosie didn’t know. Of course, anyone would be better than Ms. Klein. The woman
had a temper the size of a tsunami. She actually threw a potted plant at Mr.
Moore’s head two months before when he announced their insurance premiums would
be increasing. Needless to say, Ms. Klein had
decided
to find herself
another job.
She sat down in an auditorium seat next to her friend, Jade Harris, who
taught Spanish. Jade was a country woman through and through. She had been a
rodeo princess during high school and still looked the part. Hardly a day went
by that she didn’t wear at least one article of clothing with sequins. Today,
she wore her honey-colored hair swept up in a chignon that she had accented
with sparkly bobby pins. “Did I hear right? He’s finally hired a new science
teacher?” Jade asked.
Rosie nodded, smiling, as Principal Moore started the meeting. It was
the usual beginning-of-the-year business, which mostly involved implementing
funding cuts. This year, the board had decided to do away with the band
program. The year before, it’d been the pottery class—thanks in part to a
broken kiln. Rosie doodled flowers on her notebook—daffodils, hyacinths, roses,
and irises—as Principal Moore fielded questions from the other teachers. Then
she heard that voice. “What if I found some donors to help us keep the band
program going? How much would we need?”
Rosie’s seat squeaked as she turned to see who was speaking. There,
sitting three rows back and wearing a pink oxford, was her new neighbor—the one
who wanted to bring former drug addicts to Lone Spur. She balled her hands into
fists. What was he doing here?
Principal Moore flipped through his stack of papers. “Last year it ran
us about twenty thousand dollars.”
While Destry wrote down the number, Principal Moore extended his arm as
if he were introducing a celebrity on a late-night talk show. “Faculty, I’d
like to introduce you to our new science teacher, Destry Steadman.”
“What?” The word sprang from Rosie’s mouth unbidden. First, he bought a
ranch without knowing anything about ranching. Next, he wanted to build a
resort next door to help drug addicts. And now, he was going to be a teacher.
Did he have any experience teaching high school? She doubted it. Tanner would
have been a much better choice.
The principal looked her way for half a second before going on, “Destry
worked for ten years as an engineer in biotechnology and taught part-time at
the University of Pennsylvania before coming to Lone Spur. He brings with him
invaluable experience to prepare our students for real-world science. Mr.
Steadman has obtained an alternative teaching license just so he can help
students here in Lone Spur. I hope you’ll all support him any way you can.”
Jade shook her head and leaned to whisper in Rosie’s ear. “Why would he
want to be a high school teacher?” Jade was already upset about the prospect of
Destry building a resort, seeing as how her parents owned the bed and breakfast.
She would probably be even more upset once she found out what kind of resort it
would be. “I looked up that biotech company he owns,” Jade whispered. “He makes
enough money to buy the whole town.”
Rosie rolled her eyes. Her doodles turned into skulls and crossbones.
Why would Mr. Moore hire Destry? Sure, he’d worked at a University, but he didn’t
have any experience teaching high school. If he had an alternative license, that
probably meant he’d start at level one, which meant he’d be working at the
lowest possible salary.
Tanner would have started at the same salary, though, and had so much
more experience. She wondered if this didn’t have something to do with the time
Tanner’s dad called the police on Principal Moore’s daughter, Janessa, for
tipping cows. She’d had to pay a steep fine back then, before the principal’s
brother became the sheriff. It was usually a mistake to cross the Moores. They
were the biggest family in town and didn’t take kindly to anyone pointing out
their flaws.
Principal Moore went on, describing Destry’s credentials. “Mr. Steadman
also plans to help us secure funds for improvements to the science labs.”
Inside, Rosie felt like a trapped animal, circling inside her tiny
square of options—say something or keep quiet. No matter what, she could not
lose her temper like Ms. Klein did last year.
For an hour, she waited for the meeting to end, so she could put as
much space between her and Mr. Moore as possible. She could live with Destry
wanting to help improve the science labs. It might even delay his plans for
bringing former drug addicts to the neighborhood. But the real issue was that
Tanner needed the job so much more. Sitting through the rest of the meeting
felt like the ultimate form of claustrophobia. She had to get out.
When it finally ended, Rosie dodged the other teachers, bursting
through the auditorium doors right after Destry. With the absence of the
students, everything in the hall seemed gray—the lockers, the floor, even the
white walls had a gray tone to them. Her footsteps echoed off the bare walls. “Hey,
Destry?”
He turned and walked back to her. “Hi, Rosie.” He had a slight limp. “How’s
Wile E doing?”
“Fine.” The word came out sounding short. She drew in a breath, trying
to calm herself. “She walked outside in her cast for the first time yesterday,
but I don’t think she’s up to bothering your chickens.”
He wore jeans and flip-flops with his pink shirt. “The chickens are
ready. I finished their new fortress last night. Cleaning out your coop gave me
some ideas.” He looked down at his leather briefcase. “I guess Phil talked to
you about being my mentor.”
Mentor? She’d forgotten about that. She would be Destry’s mentor, not
Tanner’s. “Yeah. He mentioned it.”
He cocked his head to the side, studying her face. “I didn’t know you
worked here until Phil offered me the job.”
How was he already on a first-name basis with Mr. Moore? She hadn’t
accomplished that in her eight years of teaching. Destry seemed to have a way
with people. Likely, the parents and students would adore him. He’d have little
need for her as a mentor.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“I just don’t understand why you want this job when you already have so
much to do.” Her words rushed out, grating against each other like tectonic
plates.
“I want to do something that makes a difference.” He paused, looking at
her as if they were enjoying a pleasant day in the park. “Back when I graduated
from college, I was hoping to save lives. I wanted to invent a vaccine for
malaria or a cure for cancer, but all I’ve done so far is develop a successful
wrinkle cream. That’s how I made all my money—selling wrinkle reducers. Maybe
you’ve heard of my company—EternaDerm?”
She shook her head.
He smiled, not seeming to care that she didn’t recognize the name. “It’s
made me a lot of money, but I’m still hoping to do something more substantial.
That’s one reason why I want to be a teacher, so I can make a difference for
some of the kids here.”
It made sense, but she still wasn’t ready to back down all the way. She
folded her arms. “Teaching high school is more than a full-time job. You won’t
have time to run your ranch.” It struck her as she said it how hypocritical she
sounded.
“This probably won’t shock you too much, but I didn’t buy the ranch
because I had some dream to become a cowboy.” His deep voice soothed her anger.
“I bought it for the same reason I’m working here. I want to help people. I
think I can do a better job of that if I hire some help on the ranch.”
Why did he have such good answers? Rosie looked down at her notepad. “I
could recommend a few kids who know how to run a ranch.”
“I’m planning to hire Alan Erskine. Phil said he needed a job.”
Rosie drew in her breath. The last thing she needed was Alan working
next door and driving drunk down the lane twice a day. “Alan’s a nice kid, but—”