Janey felt her features sober. “Not good. In fact, it was the pits.”
Robin took another bite of apple, then asked, “Wonder why?”
It was on the tip of Janey’s tongue to tell her daughter not to talk with her mouth full, but she refrained. Robin would merely roll her eyes, then give her that “look.”
“I have no clue,” Janey said instead. “I’ve tried to blame it on everything, even the weather.”
Robin stood and tossed her half-eaten apple in the nearest trash basket. “Man, oh man, was it ever hot today. We sweated our buns off, practicing.”
“So everything’s still going all right with the team?”
Robin’s face lighted. “Things are awesome, actually. We learned a new routine today that we’re going to perform at the first home game. Can’t wait for you and Dad to see it.”
“Well, you don’t have long to wait. Friday night next week, right?”
“Righto,” Robin replied, heading toward the door. “I’m going up and drown in the shower. I’m icky.”
Janey wrinkled her nose. “I wondered what that unpleasant odor was.”
“Jeez, Mom!”
Janey laughed. “Just teasing.”
“So what’s for dinner?”
“What do you want?”
“Pizza.”
“When you get through drowning, call it in.”
After Robin had disappeared up the stairs, Janey shook her head. Teenagers—a different breed. At times not human. Maybe that was a more apt description. She didn’t know many parents who would argue that point with her.
But she wouldn’t want it any other way. She would take the good with the bad and enjoy every moment. As it was, her daughter was growing up much too fast to suit her. She would have liked to slow time down so she would have more moments to savor. Since that wasn’t possible, she would make the most of the time Robin still had at home.
If only she didn’t have to share Robin with her ex-husband. If only she didn’t feel guilty about the divorce because of Robin. Keith had turned out to be a womanizing lush, and theirs was a family ripped apart at the seams. It had been a terribly difficult adjustment for Robin.
“Hey, Mom.”
Saved. Her daughter’s timing was perfect. She hated it when her guilty feelings resurfaced and she dwelled on them.
“Yes, dear?”
“I’m going after the pizza.”
“Be careful.”
Noticing that the clock registered five-thirty, she headed to the front door. That was when she saw a utility vehicle pull up. For a moment she was tempted to turn the sign around, anyway, but she didn’t. She needed the money more than she needed the time.
She’d barely made it back to the counter when she heard the buzzer on the door. She swung around with a smile, only to feel it freeze on her lips.
Dillon Reed.
Janey’s breath caught as she struggled to hide her warring emotions. It had been inevitable that one day she would see him again. For one thing, he was her daughter’s principal. For another, this was a small town. Sooner or later, everyone’s paths crossed, like it or not.
“Janey?”
She strove to make her voice sound as normal as possible, though she wasn’t sure she could pull it off. “Hello, Dillon.”
He hadn’t changed all that much in the three-plus years since she’d last seen him. His hair was still unruly and night-dark, but now with a few sprinkles of gray—not unexpected, since he was forty.
His blue eyes certainly hadn’t changed in intensity. They still had the power to cut straight to a person’s soul. Possibly that was why he was so good with kids. He appeared taller and more muscular than she recalled, as if he’d been using the weights.
He was dressed in jeans, a shirt, a casual sports jacket and boots. He looked like he ought to be running a ranch instead of a school. The only thing missing was the Stetson.
Had he always been such a hunk?
Hunk or not, character lines scored his lean features, and there was a rugged hardness about his mouth.
“Is this place yours?” Dillon asked, shattering the tense silence.
“Yes, as of a little over a month ago.”
“Well, I have to say I’m shocked. I never expected you to come back to Hunter.”
“I never expected to, either.”
She turned away, unable to meet the challenge of those deep-set eyes or that earnest gaze.
“So how’ve you been?” he asked in his caramel-smooth tone.
Was there a slight strain in that voice, or had she imagined it? She faced him again, though with reluctance. Was he as uncomfortable with the situation as she was? No doubt she was agitated and on guard, but she couldn’t gauge his reaction at all. He was a master at hiding his thoughts.
“I have no complaints,” she said at last, forcing herself to loosen up.
“You look great.”
She looked away, then back. “Thanks.”
“So how’s Robin?”
“Attending your school and performing with the drill team.”
He looked sheepish for a moment. “Sorry, somehow that fact got by me.”
“That’s understandable. You have hundreds of students.” She felt as though she was rattling on, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “You can’t be expected to remember them all.”
He shifted from one booted foot to the other, then stared at her out of bleak eyes. “Look, Janey—”
“It’s all right,” she interrupted quickly, taking a deep breath. “There’s nothing else to say. So let’s just give things a rest, okay?”
He didn’t respond for a moment. Then he shrugged. “It’s your call.”
“So what can I do for you?”
His eyes had darkened now, and she experienced an involuntary shiver. “Sell me a box of candy.”
Janey forced a smile. “Now that I can do.”
A few minutes later, after she locked up behind him and watched him drive off, Janey leaned against the door, her heart pounding like a jackhammer inside her chest.
Three
“I wish I were built like you.”
Robin gave her friend Beverly Olson an exasperated look. “You look fine the way you are.”
“I look fat the way I am,” Beverly responded in a sarcastic tone.
Underneath that sarcasm, Robin picked up on the note of despair in her friend’s voice. She stopped what she was doing, walked over and sat beside Beverly on the steps of her front porch. An uneasy silence fell between them.
Beverly seemed unusually sensitive about her weight today, Robin thought. Maybe it was because the first big game was imminent, and Beverly was getting nervous about performing in front of the home folks. For whatever reason, Robin was at a loss as to how to comfort her.
She and Beverly had more or less established a set time to practice their routines in Bev’s front yard. This Saturday was no exception.