Carry the Light
Delia Parr
MILLS & BOON
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Dedicated to
the memory of
Gizmo Jane:
The Panda Pup,
The Cheese Dog
and
Friend to All
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Chapter One
E scape was only a few steps away.
With that thought, Ellie Waters maneuvered through the maze of high school students reluctantly edging to their next period class, slipped inside her office and shut the door behind her. The room was not much more than a supersized closet, but it was her own space and she loved every crowded inch of it.
She made her way past two cartons of new textbooks sent by publishers to be considered for adoption, eased into the wooden chair at her desk, leaned back, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Ten quiet minutes; that was all she needed to regroup and replenish her sagging energy.
It was only noon, but she had already taught four classes, met with her supervisor for her annual performance review and had a parent conference. By hiding here and managing the paperwork that was only a part of her duties as the language-arts department head at Welleswood High School, she might be able to finish the school day in peace. In quiet. And without interruption. She sighed, fully hopeful her plan would work.
Until the telephone rang.
She opened one eye, stared at the offending instrument and wondered if there was an alarm attached under her chair that alerted the outside world that she finally had some downtime. When the telephone continued to ring, she opened her other eye, resisted the urge to answer and let out another sigh.
Just once, she would love to have ten minutes to unwind after changing hats from classroom teacher to department head. She had been the language-arts department head here for seven years now, but she had been teaching here for over thirty-five years. From experience, however, she knew that the pace of the school year was rapidly heating up now that March had arrived, and peace and quiet would be very precious commodities.
At the moment, she didn’t want to think about the school-board election next month or whether the community would vote to accept or reject next year’s budget. Nor did she want to think about the pressure she would soon be under from parents eager to make sure their children were recommended for advanced classes next year. But she did have to think about parent conferences scheduled for that evening, which made for an extra-long day today and an extra-tired day tomorrow, a Friday. Fortunately, she had the weekend to recover, and she looked forward to spending two very quiet, very peaceful days at home, grading the mini research papers she had collected this week.
The telephone continued to ring. Apparently, the caller was not giving up, but Ellie, just as determined to finish her paperwork before the parent conferences tonight, was letting the call go to voice mail. This year’s senior awards for the department had to be reviewed and organized for her supervisor, and if she didn’t make a plan to ration the department’s supplies, they would run out long before June.
When the telephone finally stopped ringing, then started up again less than a minute later, she let out one final sigh, gave in and reached for the receiver. “No peace today,” she muttered, and glanced down at the bottom desk drawer, where she kept a stash of candy. Not every telephone call was a problem or an emergency, but she was ready for either.
When she finally answered the telephone and heard her mother’s voice, she opened the drawer. She made a mental note to replenish her stock, and took out three dark-chocolate kisses. “Yes, Mother, I have time to talk now,” she said, unwrapping a kiss.
“I left three messages for you earlier, and one just now. You never called me back,” Rose Hutchinson grumbled to her daughter.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been teaching classes and I had meetings all morning. I haven’t had time to check my messages. Why are you whispering?” she asked, trying to divert her mother’s attention away from her criticisms. She slipped the chocolate kiss into her mouth and let it begin to melt slowly against the inside of her cheek.
“I’m talking as loud as I can manage,” her mother replied. “I’m sick, which you would have known if you’d bothered to call me today.”
Ellie straightened her back and swallowed the last of the chocolate kiss. “But I just talked to you last night. You were fine then. What—”
“I know I was fine. Until this morning. I feel awful. My neck hurts and my jaw hurts and my chest hurts. I called Dr. Stafford’s office and told the receptionist that I think I have the flu. He can see me this afternoon at four o’clock, but I just don’t think I can make it there by myself. I’m feeling too weak. I need you to take me,” she whined.
She went on before Ellie could respond. “Unless you’re too busy. Then I’ll have to take a cab. I’m sure the driver won’t mind helping me into the cab or waiting for me while I’m at the doctor’s office. Phyllis’s daughter always takes her to the doctor’s for her