“We did it!”
“Yeah, we did!” Aiden and Sonya high-fived each other, but their joyous expressions faded when they spotted the crowd of adults just outside the door.
Luke scooped up Aiden.
Rainey did the same to Sonya.
Dorrie arched a brow at both children. “Guys, you can’t do that in kindergarten.” She flounced her one tight ponytail for effect. “You have to stay in your chair and think.”
Sonya rolled her eyes, amazed. “No one can do that.”
Aiden sent Dorrie a similar look, then buried his head in Luke’s shoulder.
“Let’s walk down to my office, shall we?” Mr. O’Mara’s request held a mixture of relief and consternation. “Miss Patterson, we’ll let you return to the rest of your class.”
Luke didn’t seem relieved to have his kid out of a scrape as much as furious that this had happened in the first place.
Was there something wrong with Rainey that she wasn’t so upset? She was amused, yes. Angry? Not so much.
But she and Miss Sonya would have a heart-to-heart talk about locking doors, once they got home.
Mr. O’Mara pointed to the bench outside his office. “If the kids would like to sit here while we talk, that would be fine.”
“Fine?” Luke sputtered the word and held his son tighter. “Mr. O’Mara, nothing about this whole situation could be called fine. You put my kid at risk. You put Sonya at risk. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that you put an entire kindergarten class at risk by not having a key to that art closet.”
“Maybe not the whole kindergarten,” Rainey murmured. When Luke stared at her, she shrugged. “It’s only big enough to hold two or three kids at a time, tops.”
“This isn’t funny.” The clipped note in his voice underscored his emotion.
Rainey reached up to touch Aiden’s cheek, then ruffled Sonya’s hair. “It is, kind of. I think it shows great resourcefulness that these two took a calming technique you taught them and put it to good use. But next time, don’t lock the door.” She made eye contact with both kids, one at a time. “Locked doors are dangerous if we don’t have a key.”
“Exactly.” Luke’s glare said she’d finally made a good point.
“So we’ll get a key for that door, but only grown-ups will use it. And if you need thinking time away from the other kids, what should you do?”
Sonya shrugged.
Aiden glared at her, much like his father was doing.
“Tell a grown-up,” Rainey instructed. “Grown-ups are on your side. I promise.” She settled a look of honest, trusting patience on each child in turn, praying the sincerity of her words would reach them. From what she could see, she was successful, and she wasn’t afraid to thank God for that.
If only there was a similar way to comfort the distraught father standing opposite her. The deep contours of his face said calming him down wasn’t going to be quite as easy.
* * *
Luke felt Aiden’s body relaxing in his arms.
Mr. O’Mara looked more comfortable, too, as if he was buying Rainey McKinney’s spiel.
Buying it? Of course he’s buying it. She made perfect sense, while you were about to jump off the deep end, trying to make Aiden’s life “Secret Service safe.” Let the kid fly a little.
His mother had scolded him about that not long ago, and Luke didn’t talk to her for nearly a week, but finally had to give in. First, because she was right. Second, because he couldn’t go seven days without her chicken biscuit pie.
He drew a deep breath and felt his overanxious heart start to settle down.
“Mr. O’Mara, did you have something you wanted to add?” Seeming quite at ease, Rainey shifted her attention to the principal.
He shook his head. “I think you covered it all, Rainey.”
“Then you—” Rainey set Sonya down and squatted next to her “—scoot back to your classroom, and behave yourself. The bus will bring you home in one hour.”
“You’re not taking me home now?” Sonya looked scared, as if worried what her teacher’s reaction would be. Luke wondered the same thing himself, but Rainey simply shook her head.
“You need to be brave every day. And follow directions. That’s how life is, cupcake, and I’d be doing you no favor by babying you.”
Luke wanted to hug Sonya. Reassure her. Tell her everything would be all right. Then hold her hand and take her home.
To his surprise, Sonya sent a resigned look to her mother, then walked slowly down the hall. She turned to glance over her shoulder as she stepped into the kindergarten room, but Rainey kept her gaze averted, as if she expected the daughter to follow directions.
And the kid did it.
Luke eyed Aiden.
He should do the same thing. Put his son down and let him go face the dragon lady on his own.
He started to set Aiden down, but the boy clung to his neck. He didn’t say a word, didn’t whimper or whine, but that stranglehold on Luke’s neck spoke volumes. “I’m going to drop Aiden off with his sitter, then send him back on Monday.”
“All right, Luke.” Mr. O’Mara looked as if he wanted to say more, but thought better of it. The principal had made a wise choice, considering Luke’s current mood.
He walked out of the building just behind Rainey and wasn’t sure if she was hurrying to stay ahead of him, or to make certain she escaped before Sonya or Dorrie did something else. Either way, he needed to thank her. “Rainey.”
She turned at the edge of the parking lot. “Yes?”
Luke shrugged his free shoulder. “Thank you. You stayed calm and levelheaded. It helped. A lot.”
She waved him off as if it was nothing, but Luke knew better. Staying calm under pressure was a wonderful trait, something he prided himself on.
Except when it came to Aiden.
He followed her to her car at the back of the full lot. “Have you thought about what I said the other day?” He shifted the boy slightly in his arms. “You saw Dorrie in there. You heard how things went down. I think it could work in everyone’s favor.”
Rainey stood perfectly still for a long, drawn-out moment, then smiled at Aiden. “We’ve got nothing to lose, right?”
“Right.”
She hesitated again, then nodded. “How about if I bring the girls over tomorrow afternoon? The store is busy on Saturday mornings, but if Noreen can take over by midday, we’d have a few hours together. Dorrie wants to show me the tree house and Sonya wants me to help her take care of the animals.”
“Bring your barn boots,” Luke warned. The image of Rainey hanging out in the barn, feeding his menagerie, brightened his thoughts. That was something he’d have to think about later.
Rainey laughed. “Will do. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She slipped behind the wheel of her mother’s car and backed out of the spot carefully. Aiden lifted his head and offered Luke a penitent expression. “I’m sorry.” He whispered the words in a tragic voice, a voice that took Luke back nearly three years.
He hugged the little guy, withdrew the booster seat he kept in the cruiser’s trunk, and fastened Aiden into the backseat. “No more locked doors, okay?”
Aiden nodded, but as Luke settled himself into the driver’s seat, he glimpsed a tiny look of satisfaction on his son’s face