“I’m really proud of you. I appreciate your willingness to help out.”
The girl he remembered would have stared at the floor in embarrassment. This new Nola didn’t look away, though the tint in her cheeks deepened. “I’m glad. I—I’ve thought about you often.”
He had forgotten the color of her eyes—a pale blue-gray, like shadows on snow. The ash-blond hair he remembered as hanging halfway down her back was now cut in short, tousled wisps that revealed the shape of her head, her small, pearl-pink ears.
“What really brings you back, Nola Shannon? Why are you here?”
She kept her chin up, held his gaze with her own. But she couldn’t answer his question.
Because she couldn’t remember what she’d come for…or what she’d planned to do when, after twelve long years, she once again stood face-to-face with Mason Reed.
Dear Reader,
We hope you already know that Harlequin American Romance publishes heartwarming stories about the comforts of home and the joys of family. To celebrate our twenty-fifth year, we’re pleased to present a special miniseries that sings the praises of the home state of six different authors, and shares the many trials and delights of being a parent.
Welcome to the second book in our THE STATE OF PARENTHOOD miniseries, Smoky Mountain Reunion. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? Well, what if you met that teacher several years later and you still had feelings for him? And what if it turns out he’s a single father? Lynnette Kent’s book is set in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina, and I know you’re going to enjoy watching romance blossom in this glorious setting.
There are five other books in the series. Last month (June ’08) Tina Leonard’s Texas Lullaby showed us an irresistible bachelor discovering the joys of fatherhood in his instant family. In August Cowboy Dad by Cathy McDavid tells the story of an ex-rodeo rider and a woman who knows better than to trust any man who’s ever gone eight seconds on a bronc. Watch for more books by authors Tanya Michaels, Margot Early and Laura Marie Altom.
We hope these romantic stories inspire you to celebrate where you live—because any place you raise a child is home.
Wishing you happy reading,
Kathleen Scheibling
Senior Editor
Harlequin American Romance
Smoky Mountain Reunion
Lynnette Kent
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Lynnette Kent began writing her first romance in the fourth grade, about a ship’s stowaway who would fall in love with her captain, Christopher Columbus. Years of scribbling later, her husband suggested she write one of those “Harlequin romances” she loved to read. With his patience and her two daughters’ support, Lynnette realized her dream of being a published novelist. She now lives in North Carolina, where she divides her time between books—writing and reading—and the horses she adores. Feel free to contact Lynnette via her Web site, www.lynnette-kent.com, or with a letter to PMB 304, Westwood Shopping Center, Fayetteville, NC 28314.
For Pam, again, because she asks all the right
questions and nags until I uncover the answers.
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 One
The bad news glared at her from the computer screen.
With her spine stiff and her muscles tight, Nola Shannon stared at the monitor.
She’d dropped by her office at the university to pick up a couple of books, and made the mistake of answering the phone when it rang. Now…
Was she insane? What had she just agreed to?
“Nola?” A hand jiggled her shoulder. “Nola? You okay?”
She jerked her head around to look at the man standing next to her. “Oh, Ted. Hi.”
He frowned at her, his high forehead wrinkled in concern. “Hi, yourself. I looked in and you were sitting there like you’d been hypnotized.”
“I, um…” She pressed her fingertips against her eyelids for a moment, trying to make her brain work. “I had a phone call.”
Ted braced a hand on the arm of her chair and leaned in to study the Web page. “Hawkridge? What’s that?”
“The Hawkridge School.” Nola leaned against the opposite arm of the chair to give herself some space. “That’s who called. The headmistress asked me to fill in for a teacher on maternity leave.”
Straightening up, Ted propped a hip on the corner of her desk. “Headmistress? What kind of college has a headmistress?”
“Not a college.” Nola eased her rolling chair back from the desk. “I’ll be teaching math to grades nine through twelve.”
“High school? She wants you to teach high school?” He shook his head. “That’s some nerve, asking an Ivy League Ph.D. to fill in as a substitute teacher.”
“I graduated from Hawkridge,” Nola explained. “They sometimes approach alumni to help them out in emergencies like this.”
“I still don’t get it. Most high schools are glad to see the last of their students.”
“Hawkridge is…different. Their students have more at stake than just grades and a diploma.”
Stepping sideways, Ted settled his six-foot-four frame into a spare chair by Nola’s desk. “Explain?”
More than anyone Nola knew, Ted had the right to ask. They’d been friends since graduate school, but over the past few months, their casual evenings together had taken on an aura of romance. He held her hand now, when they went to see a film, put his arm around her as they strolled along the sidewalk. His good-night kisses were lasting longer and longer.
And Nola had recently decided to cooperate. Ted Winfield was a very nice man, a colleague nearly as successful in his field, history, as she was in mathematics. They were both on tenure-track at the university, which would mean employment there for life. Tall and thin, with his blond hair receding slightly but still plentiful, he looked exactly right for the part of a considerate easy-to-live-with husband. Together, they could produce intelligent, easy-to-care-for children.
“Hawkridge is a school for girls with problems,” she told him. “Emotional problems that are leading them into dangerous behaviors.”
“You went there?”
“Yes.” She nodded as he gazed at her, his jaw hanging loose in shock. “By court order. I’d gotten into trouble once too often—cheating, drinking, fighting at school. Shoplifting, driving without a license…” Ted’s blue eyes grew rounder with every word. “My guardians couldn’t control me. The judge ordered me into a rehabilitation program—otherwise I’d have been sentenced to juvenile detention. And so I ended up at Hawkridge.”
“Wow.” He removed his wire-rimmed