Just as in Austin, her smile lit up the room. Combined with her open, unaffected manner, her striking appearance made it hard for him to think straight.
Fortunately, she directed her comments to his daughters. “I’m excited to have twins in my class, but I’m sure you’re two very different individuals.”
“I’m Diane. I like pink and India likes blue.” The little girl indicated their jumpers, which were identical, except for the colors. Will wondered how much Eileen had influenced their choice of the same style, and made a mental note to take them shopping himself next time.
“Even though I’m the teacher, you’ll need to teach me about yourselves,” Leah went on in her musical voice. “Do you want to sit together or would you like to sit separately?”
The girls exchanged looks. “Together,” Diane said.
India’s head bobbed.
“That’s fine,” their teacher said gravely. “Later in the year, when you feel more comfortable, you can switch if you want to.”
“You need to get our dad’s phone number,” Diane told her. “In case Mrs. McNulty can’t find us.”
“I’ll do that. You’re a very responsible young lady,” Leah told her.
India took Diane’s hand. “Come on,” she said in an urgent half whisper. “Let’s go sit by Nick.” The little girls scampered off.
With only the slightest hesitation, Leah shifted her attention to Will. “I guess I’ll have that phone number now, Doctor.” She didn’t bother to disguise a touch of irony.
He could have sworn his face grew warm, but he hadn’t blushed in years. “Certainly, Miss Morris.” Since he hadn’t had business cards printed yet, Will took out a prescription pad. Unable to find a pen, he borrowed a watercolor marker from her desk.
As he scrawled the number, he grew more and more uncomfortable. He had to let her teach his kids, since she appeared to be the only first-grade teacher in town. Besides, yanking them now would upset the girls and raise far too many questions. All the same, there was no way he and Leah Morris could ignore what had happened.
“We have to talk.” He kept his voice low.
She gave a friendly nod to a new arrival, the woman whose daughter had thrown a tantrum. Sounding politely impersonal, Leah said, “When would you suggest, Dr. Rankin?”
His housekeeper retired to her quarters—in this case, a separate guesthouse, much to Will’s satisfaction—by 7:00 p.m. Adding his address to the note, he said. “How about seven-thirty tonight at my place?”
She quirked an eyebrow but, to his relief, didn’t refuse. However, she added, “Let’s make it eight.”
“Eight will be fine.” He suspected the hour mattered less than her power to control the terms.
She tucked the note into her skirt pocket and, after one last assessing look, moved on to the short-haired woman, who caught her arm eagerly. “Leah, I hope you’ll let me serve as the class mom! Nobody’s beaten me to it, have they?”
“A few people dropped hints, but nobody’s signed up. That would be wonderful, Minnie,” she said. “I can’t believe Sybill’s old enough for school!”
On his way out, Will lengthened his stride. The curious thing was, he realized as he scooted down the front steps, that he felt almost as off center as he had on his own first day of school.
By eight o’clock tonight, he would regain his usual iron self-control. And they would figure out how to put the whole embarrassing incident behind them.
Chapter Four
By the time the last child hurried out that afternoon, Leah’s back and shoulders ached. Even so, she trudged around the room straightening desks and picking up dropped papers. Surely, she didn’t feel this exhausted every year on the first day of school, did she?
At naptime, when she’d expected to have a few minutes for reflection, she’d put her head on the desk and promptly fallen asleep. In nine years of teaching that that had hardly ever happened.
Jenni had warned of requiring more sleep than usual. Leah had figured that meant going to bed half an hour early. Well, live and learn.
On the short drive home, she finally allowed her thoughts to stray to Will. Thank heaven she’d learned of his identity in advance and discovered the two Rankin girls’ names on her class list, because the sight of his intense gaze and expressive mouth had hit her hard.
She was proud of maintaining her poise during their encounter. The fact that it has taken place on her turf had helped. The prospect of meeting him at his place tonight didn’t thrill her, but they must get this over with.
The question remained: how much did she intend to tell him? He clearly wanted to deal with the issue of their affair. She’d rather save the matter of her pregnancy for later, but that might not be wise. Given his occupation, he was sure to find out, and he might be angry if it appeared she’d tried to keep it secret.
At the two-bedroom cottage her parents had bequeathed her, Leah fixed a salad. She carried it to the country-style table at one end of the living room.
Usually the décor lifted her spirits with its mix of conventional furnishings and quirky accents, including a carved red chest and a Japanese-style print silk scarf framed on the wall. Tonight, however, she was too busy wrestling with her decision.
So far, no one except Jenni and Yvonne knew about the pregnancy. She hadn’t had occasion to use the artificial insemination story, so it didn’t present a stumbling block to whatever she and Will decided.
If she admitted the truth to him before anyone else found out, they could concoct a story together. They might say they’d dated for a whirlwind few days and fallen in love. Eyebrows would be raised no matter how they put it, but if he decided to stand by her…
Leah glared across the room at her reflection in the glass of the built-in cabinets. She had no business indulging in infantile fantasies. The man who had walked out on her without a word was not going to fall on his knees and ask her to marry him.
Nor did she want him to. In fact, she wouldn’t marry Will Rankin if he begged her—and not only because he’d betrayed her trust.
After college, she’d longed to see the world. She’d begun looking into teaching English at a foreign school or joining the Peace Corps, but there’d been no question of that after her mom fell ill.
By the time her mom had died a year later, Leah had taken on a job in Downhome. A short time later, her father had announced his plans to marry an old friend in Denver. Perhaps as a way to cushion the blow of his rapid defection, he’d given Leah the family house, saying her mother would have wanted her to have it.
A bolder person might have rented it out and pursued her old dreams. However, losing her mother—and, in some ways, her always-distant father—had left Leah feeling insecure.
Clinging to the comfort of old friends and routine, she’d persuaded herself that traveling during the summers ought to be enough. Three-week jaunts to Europe, Asia and South America had proved educational and exciting.
She hadn’t realized how quickly life was slipping past, although she’d begun to feel restless on her thirtieth birthday. The defining moment had come a year later, as the result of an offhanded remark from her cousin.
Mark, four years Leah’s junior, had told her at her thirty-first birthday dinner, “I’m glad you don’t feel you have to chase after something new all the time.”
Aware that a longtime girlfriend had dumped him because she considered him stuffy, Leah had tempered her response. “I like to try different things, Mark. I’m just quiet about it.”
He’d