“No.” Whitney picked up the phone and finally placed her call to Zoey Crandell, setting up a time to see the apartment.
“Are you leaving here?” Lindsay screwed her face into a pout.
Whitney hung up the receiver. “Yes, but I won’t be too far away. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
“You’ll come and watch me swim?”
“Of course.” When Whitney neared the child, Lindsay grabbed her hand and tugged her outside. “Hold it. What’s the rush? We do have some time.”
“I’ve gotta practice my swimming. I want to be the best.”
At the pool behind the main house, Whitney sat on the edge, adjusting her split skirt so she could stick her legs into the water without it getting wet. She relished the feel of the coolness on her tired, aching feet.
After the little girl swam a few laps, trying out various strokes, she came to the side where Whitney perched and clung to the tile lip. “Now that I’m a Maxwell, I’ve been thinking I should call you Aunt Whitney. May I?”
The question stunned Whitney. She had never expected to have nieces and nephews—until she’d come to Cimarron City. She’d always thought of herself going through life alone. Emotions jammed her throat. She never cried, not since she’d been separated from Noah as a child, and yet the tears swelled up from the depths of her being.
“Whitney?”
The child’s expression, full of worry, forced Whitney to say something and yet she wasn’t sure her voice would work. She peered away, staring at the gazebo near the pond. A tear slipped down her face. She swiped it away.
Clearing her throat, she finally said, “I’d love for you to.”
Lindsay pulled herself out of the pool and flung herself into Whitney’s arms. “You’re the bestest aunt. I love you.”
The scent of chlorine peppered the air. That must be why another tear coursed down her cheek. She kissed the top of Lindsay’s wet hair, swallowing hard. “I love you, too, Lindsay.” What would it be like to have her own child?
That question nibbled at her mind, but she determinedly shoved it away. Instead, she cherished this moment because this would be the closest she would come to having a family and children. She would have to content herself with her niece and nephews because she would never have a child of her own who would depend on her.
At work two days later, Whitney hung up the phone after talking with a man at the garage where her car was being fixed. Turning away from the counter at the main entrance into the building, she spied Shane trying to coax Jason inside. School started the next day, and it didn’t look as if things were going well with Jason adjusting to a new situation. Yesterday she didn’t think the child had come into the building, either.
Before she realized it, her legs carried her toward the double doors and outside. “Hi, Shane. Jason.”
Her words disrupted the boy’s whine. When he stopped yanking on his father’s arm to get him to leave, he quit shaking his head and stared at her. Then suddenly he launched himself at her.
She stood her ground.
“Pretty yellow hair.”
Whitney bent toward Jason, the movement of dropping her head slightly intensified the ache in her neck caused by the accident a few days ago. She would curl up with the heating pad again that evening when she got home from seeing the apartment. She intended to grab the garage apartment at Zoey Crandell’s and move in as soon as possible, hopefully this weekend.
“What’s going on, Jason? Have you checked out your new classroom yet?”
The child focused on her ponytail, which had fallen forward.
“Not yet. I was hoping today,” Shane said while his son remained silent but continued to touch her hair. “Is that okay?” He gestured toward what Jason was doing.
“Fine.” After a minute, she straightened, holding her hand out to the child. She’d made a point the day before to see who would be Jason’s teacher. “I can show you to your classroom. I know they have a yellow ball in there.” Jason’s face started to screw up into a scowl until she mentioned the toy.
“Yellow ball!” He dragged her toward the door into the building.
“I guess we’re going inside,” she said over her shoulder as Shane followed them into the lobby.
She guided the pair down the first long hallway on the right and stopped at the second room. Jason came to a halt when he saw his teacher a few feet from him, tacking up a poster by the door. Suddenly he hid his face against Shane.
“Mrs. Bradley, this is Jason and his father, Shane McCoy. Jason was interested in seeing your yellow ball.”
The older teacher approached them with a neutral expression. She shook Shane’s hand. “It’s nice to see you again. I see you were able to get Jason inside.”
“Not me. Whitney did.”
That she had awed Whitney. When she had decided to go for her degree in elementary education, she’d never dreamed of dealing with children who had special needs like Jason. Only in the past few months with her interaction with Noah’s four adopted children, coupled with her volunteer work at Stone’s Refuge, had she realized she wanted to work with kids. But a child with special needs? For years she’d been drifting from one job to the next—just trying to make a living and staying off the streets.
“Yellow ball?” Jason asked, his words muffled against his father.
“Oh, that. Jason, it’s over in the corner.” Mrs. Bradley pointed to the left.
The child peeked around his father, saw it and tore across the room to stroke it.
The teacher faced Shane. “I still have my reservations about this working. We just aren’t equipped for a child like Jason here at this school. He should be in a self-contained special education class like at Eisenhower Elementary School.”
“I insist on trying this. We won’t know until we do. I signed the paperwork for him to be in special education, but I want him involved with all kinds of children. We’re working on socialization at home and with his therapist. I’ll keep you informed of things that develop at home, and I want you to keep me informed about what’s going on here.” A firm resolve underscored each of Shane’s words.
Although Whitney faced Jason playing with the ball, her attention focused on the exchange between Shane and the teacher. Just the few times she’d been around the boy, Whitney couldn’t imagine what it was like to deal with a child with Jason’s obvious limitations. And yet, Shane did it with love and patience. How was Jason going to fit into a normal kindergarten class, especially with a teacher who was less than enthusiastic?
“I have a meeting to attend. You and your son may stay for a while and get familiar with the classroom if you wish.” Mrs. Bradley slipped off a smock she wore to protect her clothes while cleaning.
After the teacher left, Shane turned to Whitney. “Thanks for helping earlier. I’d about run out of ideas on how to get Jason into the building. You saved the day.”
Her first instinct was to scoff at his compliment. In the past people only gave them to get something from her. Then she remembered Lindsay telling her she was the best aunt a few days ago. Noah and his family were chipping away at all her defenses she’d learned to use over the years.
“You’re welcome,” she managed to say after a long pause. She took a step back, not sure what to do with her changing attitude. “I’d better get back to the office. I was unpacking some new supplies.”
“I was going to call you,” Shane said as she turned to leave.
She stopped and glanced back at him.
“Remember