Matt’s question jerked her back to the present with heart-thumping alarm. Her otherwise virtuous sister had lied to cover Rachel’s mistake, and Rachel didn’t know all the details of the story Hope had concocted. Best to say as little as possible.
“No.”
“You’re all she has?”
“Yes. My parents died before Chastity was born.” Losing them and relinquishing her baby in the same year had seemed just punishment for her misdeeds. She was alone in the world now, except for the daughter she couldn’t rightfully claim. Grief blossomed, but she crushed the bud.
“I’m sorry about your folks.”
She’d been a total disappointment to them. “Thanks.”
The door whooshed open a sliver and a dark-haired girl’s overly made-up face appeared in the gap. Recognition hit Rachel with the force of a tsunami. Shock followed. Chastity had grown up. The round-faced child Rachel had known was gone, replaced by a young woman with heavily painted brown eyes and overly teased hair.
“Aunt Rachel?”
Chastity’s sullen face resembled the one Rachel had seen in her own mirror when she’d been a student here. The haunted look in the girl’s eyes tore at Rachel’s heart. Empathy and love swelled within her. Her mouth dried. Nodding, she devoured the sight of the lanky teenager squeezing past Matt.
“Hello, Chastity.” She opened her arms.
Chastity hesitated, and it felt as if an elephant settled on Rachel’s chest. She bit her lip to stymie the sob building inside her. Then the girl launched forward. The impact of her body against Rachel’s nearly knocked her over. Rachel hugged her. It felt so good to hold her again. It had been so long. Five years too long. She squeezed tighter, never wanted to let go. She inhaled a shaky breath and choked on heavy perfume. That brought a smile to her lips. She and Chastity had so much in common.
It had been the hugs Rachel had missed the most since Hope had ended their visits. The unconditional love had been a close second. Chastity had actually loved her when it had seemed no one else did. Happy tears burned paths down her cheeks. She rocked gently and stroked Chastity’s tangled hair.
Chastity jerked away abruptly, swiping her eyes and smearing blue mascara across her cheekbones. She sniffed and tried to look cool, as if she hadn’t nearly broken Rachel’s ribs or soaked her shirt. “Glad you came.”
“Me, too.” Rachel had to force the words past her constricted throat.
“I didn’t think you would. I would’ve been okay if you hadn’t.” Chastity’s voice wobbled, and her chin tipped up in false bravado. She wore an expression that said the world had done her dirty, and she was fully prepared for it to do so again.
Rachel had been that same defensive girl. She dabbed her own cheeks and hoped Matt didn’t notice. “Fat chance of me not coming, kiddo. I’m sorry it took so long to get here. I was out in the wild with unreliable generators and intermittent electricity, radios instead of phones, and no internet.”
Chastity shuddered dramatically. “That’s roughing it.”
Then Rachel realized she now stood eye to eye with the child—one who’d developed hollows in her cheeks and curves in her breasts. The gap-toothed eight-year-old she remembered was on the brink of womanhood.
“Chastity, you’ve grown a foot.”
Chastity grinned. “Yep.” Then she leaned forward. “Thanks for the bras,” she whispered. “Mom said I was too young for one.” She glanced over her shoulder as if to make sure Matt hadn’t overheard.
“You’re welcome.” Those emails had kept Rachel going, and being allowed to order and ship occasional gifts to Chastity had helped her feel connected.
“Can we go now?” Chastity pleaded.
Matt shook his head. “Your aunt will have to sign you out, and I’d like to talk to you both about what put you in detention in the first place.”
“Aw, c’mon, Coach Johnston. I know what I did and I’m sorry. Stuff has been shit—tough lately. I’ve had church ladies praying over me nearly every minute and somebody in my grill worrying about every little thing ’til I’m about to crawl outta my skin. I just want to be left alone.”
Matt’s expression softened slightly. “Taking your frustrations out on others is never the answer.”
Chastity rolled her eyes. “I know. ‘God loves a gracious and forgiving person.’”
Chastity’s chanted words plunged Rachel into the past. That phrase had been yanked out every time Rachel had strayed from the narrow path of her upbringing—which had been pretty frequently. She’d come to hate the verse. Apparently Hope had carried on their parents’ tradition. That was a practice Rachel intended to break. Guilt and a sense of failure were not good leverage.
She shook off the restrictive feeling and gave Chastity a wink and a squeeze. “How do I spring this delinquent, Ma—Mr.—Coach Johnston?”
Matt’s brows lowered at her levity. “In here.”
He reentered room 127. Chastity grabbed Rachel’s hand and dragged her along. “Hey, everybody. This is my aunt Rachel. She’s a Life Flight helicopter nurse in Atlanta. When she’s not flying to nasty wrecks and stuff she travels all over the world with medical teams to rat-infested villages trying to save people from floods, Ebola, tsunamis and other noxious stuff.”
Matt’s head snapped around. The bubbles of pleasure Rachel was experiencing over the fact that Chastity sounded proud of her popped under Matt’s scrutiny.
“Is that right?” His inspection made her feel like bacteria under a microscope. He leaned his hip against his desk, crossing his long legs in front of him. His thigh muscles rippled with the movement, distracting Rachel. Matt still had an athletic body.
“Yes. I...um...volunteer my vacation time to work with a traveling medical team.”
“Perhaps you’d like to share some of your experiences with us. Tell us why you chose to go into nursing. If I remember correctly, that wasn’t your plan when you were their age.”
Rachel snorted. “I wanted to be a rock star back then. The fact that I sing like a scalded cat might have something to do with my change of heart.” Truth was, she’d wanted to do something that would make people—specifically, her parents—sit up and take notice of Rachel Bishop.
Smiling faces looked expectantly at her. Being the center of attention—something she’d once sought with nearly religious fervor—caused her skin to flush and her ears to burn. “Some other time.”
“I’ll hold you to that, Ms.—is it still Bishop?” Rachel nodded. “Career day is the last Thursday of school. I’ll add you to the docket.”
Standing in front of a gym filled with bored kids didn’t appeal to her. It sounded downright horrifying. She was hardly a sterling example to hold up to anyone, and next month she and Chastity would be back in Atlanta anyway.
“It’d be really cool to have someone interesting for a change, Aunt Rachel. We usually suffer through a bunch of boring old farts—”
“Chastity!” Rachel and Matt reprimanded simultaneously.
Chastity grimaced. “Well, who wants to grow up and be a mortician anyway?”
Several kids muttered agreement.
Rachel felt cornered but at the same time compelled to respond. “Somebody has to do it and do it correctly. Otherwise disease and vermin become a problem. I’ve witnessed that more than once overseas and even in our own country after natural disasters—” She caught Matt’s raised eyebrows in her peripheral vision. “Well, anyway. Another time. I’ll, uh...see about next month. Where do I sign Chastity out?”