Nola relaxed her weight against the back of the chair. “Hawkridge is a good place. Structured, but caring—they changed my life. If they ask for help, what can I say but yes?”
“I see your point.” He stared at his hands, twiddling his thumbs for a moment, then looked up again. “When do you leave?”
“The girls go on spring break this Friday, so I’ll arrive the following weekend, before school resumes on Monday.”
“Good thing you’re free of classes and working on research this term.” Ted gave her his usual sunny smile. “Where is this place? Can I visit on the weekends?”
“North Carolina, west of Asheville. In the Great Smoky Mountains.”
“On top of ol’ Smoky,” Ted warbled, putting a painful twang into the words. “That’s too far for a weekend jaunt from Boston—except for rich people like you. So you’ll be hanging out with these hillbillies until when?”
Nola managed to swallow her irritation at his narrow-mindedness. There was no sense in starting an argument. “Graduation is the first week in June.”
He sobered, and reached across the desk to take her hand in his. “I’m going to miss you, Nola.” His thumb stroked across her knuckles. “That’s a long time. How about dinner tonight?”
She was glad to think her troubled past didn’t bother him. “That sounds good. Where shall I meet you?”
“Why don’t we eat in, for a change?” The intensity of his gaze, a certain resonance in his tone, conveyed more than the words. “We can relax, be comfortable.”
Nola looked down at their clasped hands. Apparently, he’d decided it was time for them to have sex. Something about her going away had compelled Ted to stake a claim. An hour ago, Nola would have considered that an appropriate next step, too.
An hour earlier, however, she hadn’t been thinking about Hawkridge. About Mason Reed.
She manufactured a sudden gasp of surprise and pulled her hand away to pick up her palm computer. “Ted, I’m sorry. I just remembered, I’ve already set up a dinner meeting with…” She pressed a couple of buttons and discovered she actually did have a dinner meeting scheduled. “With my graduate advisees. Talking over their projects, that sort of thing.”
He groaned. “Using mathspeak?”
An old joke between them. Nola smiled. “I’m afraid so.”
Ted pushed himself to his feet with a sigh. “As you know, I don’t do mathspeak. So I’ll let your students have you to themselves.” He bent down as if to kiss her cheek, but his lips lingered next to her ear. “I’ll call you later tonight, so we can clear the calendar and get together.” She expected a kiss, but he flicked her ear with his tongue instead. Then he left her office, whistling.
Wincing and wiping her ear with her sleeve, Nola got up and closed the door behind him, then returned to her desk and recalled the window on her computer. The Hawkridge Web site filled the screen again, with its faculty photograph and list of corresponding names. Among the faces of thirty or so women was one masculine countenance. Mason Reed.
He’d been a first-year teacher during her senior year of high school, advising her as she worked through college applications and acceptances. She hadn’t seen him since her graduation day. But the torch she’d carried for him had burned brightly for a long, long time.
“He’s a ghost, that’s all,” she told herself throughout the following week while choosing clothes and packing suitcases. “A phantom from the past. You’ll see him, put the memories to rest, then get on with your life. In a few months, you could have a wedding to plan.”
Despite her resolution, however, she somehow managed to evade Ted’s attempts at seduction every night before she left.
And yet he woke up at 4:00 a.m. on Friday to drive her to the airport. “Don’t work too hard,” he said in a hoarse voice, looking rumpled and grouchy and sweet all at once.
“I won’t.” She kissed him, out of guilt and gratitude. “Go home, get back in bed. I’ll call you tonight.” He backed up several steps, waving feebly, then turned to trudge toward the parking lot.
In the next moment, he’d vanished from her thoughts. Briefcase in hand, Nola headed toward the security checkpoint, already bracing herself for the return to Hawkridge.
Bracing herself for the ordeal of facing Mason Reed.
IN HER DREAM, they sat on a stone wall near the top of the mountain, staring into the mist that cloaked their view of the valley below and talking about colleges she might choose. He’d given her his perspective on the pros and cons, but the choice was hers. Where would she go when she finished high school?
After a long silence, she finally said, “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here.” Swallowing hard, she kept her gaze on his face. “With you.”
His dark brown eyes widened and he gazed at her for a stunned moment. Then his fingertips touched her cheek. “Darling…” His southern accent dropped the g. “I was afraid to ask. You shouldn’t sacrifice a brilliant career for me.”
She covered the back of his hand with her palm. “You’re all I want. You’re all I need.”
In the next instant, he pulled her against his chest and took her lips with his. She kissed him back with all her heart, locked her arms around his waist and swore she’d never let him go…
“Ms. Shannon?” An unfamiliar voice wove its way into the scene. “Ms. Shannon? We’ve arrived.”
Nola blinked, then pried apart her scratchy eyelids. “Um…thank you.” Her dream vanished like mountain mist under a summer sun, and she was relieved to let it go. Who could spare the time for useless dreams?
Speaking of time, a glance at her watch showed that her appointment with Jayne Thomas, the headmistress of Hawkridge, was scheduled for twenty minutes from now. Immediately afterward, Nola would attend her first faculty meeting, which meant she’d be introduced to the other teachers and staff. Some of them were new since her days as a student, but others she knew quite well. Including Mason Reed.
Was he still so charming, so courtly? Would he still make her laugh even while making her think? Maybe he’d gotten fat—or bald. Maybe he was tired, boring, dull.
Or he might still be damn near perfect.
Nola realized her hands were shaking. She gripped them together and stared out the window of her hired car, trying to divert her thoughts with the scenery. All along the winding mountain road, white dogwood flowers fluttered around the tall pine-tree trunks, and patches of purple rhododendron blossoms brightened the dappled shade. Some long-gone gardener had planted drifts of daffodils in the grass at the edge of the forest, and now their cheerful yellow trumpets nodded in the breeze. As a teenager, Nola had spent hours wandering these woods in all seasons and weathers. Judging by today, spring was still her favorite time of year.
The mileage signs on the narrow road up to the school were falling behind, but not fast enough. Nola leaned forward and put her hand on the front seat, but before she could ask the driver to speed up, the car decelerated. In another moment, they’d stopped altogether.
She changed the question. “Is something wrong?”
The driver turned around, looking past her through the rear window. “There’s a kid back there on the side of the road.”
Nola shifted to follow his gaze. “He’s walking oddly. Do you suppose he’s hurt?”
“If you don’t mind waiting a minute, I’ll go and check.”
“That will be fine.”
The worry on his grandfatherly face eased into a smile. “Thanks.”
Nola watched as he walked back down the road. The boy came to