Walking into Sagebrush High brought back too many memories as far as she was concerned. Although she’d convinced her father to let her attend the public high school, she’d felt alone and very much the outsider here—until Vince had dropped into her life. “It’s the same. Though the halls have a new coat of paint and the auditorium was added on since I…we…came to school here.”
As she glanced at Vince, she saw his eyes had turned a stormy gray. Was he remembering the kisses they’d shared behind locker doors? The quick hugs before a test? The afterschool rendezvous in his pickup truck in the parking lot? She might not want those memories to still be intact, but in spite of her best effort to tame or banish them, they were. The deepening of lines on Vince’s brow told her he couldn’t banish them, either.
She purposefully glanced at her watch. “I suppose the parents will be gathering. Are we speaking to them in the auditorium?”
“Unfortunately we won’t have enough parents here to need the auditorium,” Joe replied. “They think they know their kids so most don’t attend these meetings. We’re gathering in the library.”
As the principal motioned for Tessa to precede him into the hall, Vince asked him, “You publicized this?”
“Absolutely. Flyers went home with the kids. We posted it on our Web site. There was even a notice in the paper.”
Vince had come up beside Tessa, his long-legged stride easily taking him ahead of her. When he realized it, he slowed.
Just looking at him could still make her giddy. At eighteen, he’d been most girls’ fantasy date, with his good looks, sexy beard stubble and broad shoulders that could make a girl feel safe. At thirty-eight, he was so much more. The lines etched around his eyes had come from maturity and experience. She guessed his strong jaw still carried a shadowed beard line after five o’clock. But tonight he was clean-shaven, ready for his part of the program.
She tried not to look too hard or see too much, but in spite of herself, she noticed that tonight he wore a denim blazer, white oxford shirt and black jeans, a broad-rimmed cowboy hat low over his eyes. He’d obviously kept in shape. She’d been able to tell that from the muscles evident under his polo shirt that day in her office. She’d tried to ignore the changes in his body as he’d handed Sean to her…as he’d loomed in the room while she’d examined his son.
His son.
“How is Sean adjusting to the move?” she asked, as their footsteps echoed in the hall and they drew closer to the library.
“Probably better than I am,” Vince admitted with a rueful smile.
She’d be safer not commenting on Vince’s adjustment. “If Sean’s sleeping, eating well and seems happy, then he’s adjusting.”
“Sometimes he wakes up around 2:00 a.m. and wants to play. I walk him for a while and talk to him, then he settles down again.”
She didn’t know why she was having such a difficult time imagining Vince with the baby, accepting full care of him. Maybe because while she was pregnant he simply hadn’t been around much and she’d wished he had been.
As they entered the library, Tessa noticed that most of the rectangular tables for eight were filled, and about a hundred parents had gathered.
Joe led them to the circulation desk. A podium was positioned in front of it with two chairs by its side.
“I didn’t want this to be too formal,” he told them in a low voice. “If we can keep the meeting more conversational, give parents a chance to ask questions and not feel a barrier between you and them, that would be best. Chief Rossi, after my opening remarks I’ll introduce you. Is there anything I need to set up for you? A bit of a background?”
“I’ll include my background when I talk to them,” Vince assured the principal.
“The same for you, Dr. McGuire?” Joe asked.
She nodded, eager to hear what Vince had to say. In spite of herself she was curious about where he’d been and what he’d done over the past twenty years. Not that he would go into all of that publicly. But she might get a hint.
She was always all nerves before she gave a presentation. She was much better one-on-one, or in a small group. But she did it as a challenge, as she did everything. If she was afraid of something, she knew she had to walk straight toward it and face it. Was that how Vince ran his life, too?
She sensed a confidence about him that had been lacking when he was a teenager. At eighteen he’d stood tall and said what he thought more because of defiance than confidence.
Now, however, he walked up to the podium and gave the group a relaxed smile. After he swiped off his Stetson, he laid it on the counter behind him and ran a hand through his thick black hair.
“I’m Vince Rossi, chief of police of the Sagebrush P.D.” He nodded to the group. “It’s good to see all of you here. I know you’re wondering what I can tell you about your sons and daughters. Maybe nothing. Maybe something. Maybe my experience in law enforcement will tell you the pitfalls available to teenagers in a small town, especially when drugs, alcohol and vehicles are involved. If you listen to what I have to say, I promise to answer each and every one of your questions, even if I’m here all night.”
Whether Vince had had psychological training in the method he used to approach the group, Tessa didn’t know. But what he’d said had worked. All gazes were on him. They were attentive, thanks to the promise of individual attention if they needed it. Vince already held them in the palm of his hand.
Unbidden, she thought about his palm. How it had touched her in pleasure and gentleness and teasing. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at the portfolio on her lap rather than at Vince. She’d be better off concentrating on his words than on him.
Tessa’s approach, when it was her turn, was altogether different from Vince’s. She spoke as a friend of the family, warning of signs of changes in their children’s personalities, explaining that no child was immune from peer pressure and the need for friends’ approval. After she finished, she assured them she’d also be available to speak to any parent who had concerns.
During the next hour both she and Vince answered questions, gave advice, but mostly listened.
When only a dozen or so parents remained, talking among themselves in small groups, Vince crossed to her. “I’m going to have to face their concerns in another thirteen or fourteen years.” He shook his head. “That makes me want to bury my head in the sand.”
When they’d separated, Vince had buried his head in the sand where she was concerned…where their marriage was concerned. He hadn’t wanted to see how much she loved him…how much she wanted their marriage to work…how sad she was because of the loss of their child. It had been easier for him to walk away.
All these years she’d put the past in a compartment that she’d shut tight. She couldn’t seem to do that tonight, but she was giving it her best shot. She reminded herself just to treat this evening as a professional, not as Vince’s ex-wife. “Drugs and alcohol don’t have to be a rite of passage.”
After their gazes met for a few long moments, Vince remarked, “It’s a shame you’re a pediatrician.”
“Why?”
“Because these parents would all put their kids in your care if you didn’t just treat babies. How long have you been back here?”
“Two years. Since Family Tree opened.”
Suddenly, one of the men who appeared to be a few years older than Vince broke away from another couple and approached Tessa. “Dr. McGuire, I’m Tim Daltry. I know your dad pretty well. He’s letting my son, Ray, work at the ranch after school and weekends to make money for college. Just wanted to let you know how grateful