Smoky Mountain Home. Lynnette Kent
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more about looking good in the parent brochure than about caring for the animals and giving the girls safe, productive lessons.”
She left the conference room by the nearest door, and congratulated herself for not tripping or running into a chair on her way out. Sometimes her feet forgot their main job, especially when she was nervous. Facing down Jonah Granger had definitely made her nervous. He was so cool, so controlled, so…
“Arrogant,” she muttered as she reached the grand circular staircase descending to the first floor. “Contemptuous. Conceited.” Her riding boots sounded like the horses themselves as she hurried down the marble steps. “Egotis—”
She stopped moving and muttering as she rounded the curve and saw a girl sitting on the bottom step. “Hello, there. Can I help you?”
The girl turned to look at her as she came the rest of the way to ground level. “No, thank you. I’m just waiting.” She would be about thirteen, with dark hair pulled back at the nape of her neck, a round face and a chubby body dressed in tank top and jeans a size too small.
“Waiting for what?” Ruth Ann leaned an elbow on the newel post. The fall semester didn’t start for another week, and all the students had left campus for a brief vacation.
“My stepfather.” The girl stared straight ahead. “Mr. Granger.”
“Ah.” That might explain the odd air of withdrawal, as if she’d walled herself off from the rest of the world. He’d be a demanding parent, which played hell with an adolescent’s self-esteem, in Ruth Ann’s experience. “I just left that meeting. He should be finished in a few minutes.”
A nod was the only response. But then, with a sideways glance at her breeches and boots, the girl said, “You ride? Horses?”
“I’m the trainer here. Do you ride?”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I mean, I do, kinda. But it’s really scary.”
“Maybe you haven’t had the right horse. What’s your name?”
After hesitating a moment, she said, “Darcy.”
Ruth Ann offered a handshake. “I’m Ruth Ann Blakely. Good to meet you, Darcy.”
Jonah Granger hadn’t taught his stepdaughter how to shake properly. She barely grazed Ruth Ann’s palm with her own, then let her arm fall back to her lap.
The approach of voices from upstairs announced that the meeting had ended. Darcy jerked her head up, got to her feet, and scurried to the other side of the entry hall, like a mouse caught on the counter when the kitchen light comes on.
Ruth Ann’s temper started to simmer again. What had the man done to make this girl so nervous?
Flanked by board members, Jonah Granger came down the stairs, carrying his big box of useless drawings and smiling at the compliments of people who wouldn’t know a hoof pick from a hay hook. At the bottom, he spoke with each and every one of them as they left by the front door, before finally deigning to notice his stepdaughter.
“Darcy, there you are.” He grinned at the girl and summoned her with a gesture. “I thought you’d still be in the library.”
To Ruth Ann’s surprise, Darcy moved quickly to join him. “I didn’t feel like reading. I went for a walk instead.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “Did you like what you saw?”
The girl shrugged. “It’s pretty.”
“When you come back to start classes,” Jayne Thomas said, “you’ll get an extensive tour, and you can see how beautiful Hawkridge really is. We have hiking paths on the mountain and, of course, the riding trails.” The lift of her eyebrow in Ruth Ann’s direction promised a reprimand as soon as they had a private moment.
But Ruth Ann was more interested in the fact that Darcy would be attending Hawkridge. “Maybe you’d like to sign up for some lessons,” she told the girl. “I promise to keep you safe, and you’ll have a good time.”
Jonah Granger’s smile vanished. “Darcy’s had her fill of horseback accidents, I believe. But she’s an excellent pianist, and plays several other instruments, too.”
The teenager gazed at her toes, their nails painted a glittery blue.
“She’ll have lots of choices,” Jayne promised, with a warning glance at Ruth Ann, who had opened her mouth to protest. “And lots of time to decide what she wants to do.” Setting a hand lightly on Granger’s shoulder, she ushered him toward the door. “You’ll be coming in from New York next week—”
Aha! Ruth Ann thought.
“—to bring Darcy for Moving-In Day. Let’s arrange another meeting then. We can review your plans in more detail. Ruth Ann will give us her input at that time.”
From the double doorway, Jonah Granger threw Ruth Ann a glance that could have been called challenging. Or just spitting mad.
“I’ll look forward to it,” he told the headmistress, his voice as smooth as black ice.
Jayne went outside with Granger and Darcy. Staying within the shadows, Ruth Ann peeked around the door frame in time to see the architect and his daughter fold themselves into a dark-blue Porsche. With a roar of the engine and a squeal of tires, the sports car streaked around the circular drive.
“Showoff,” Ruth Ann muttered. “Just what I’d expect.”
Jayne remained on the front steps until the forest surrounding them hid the Porsche from sight. Returning to the entry hall, she closed the doors and stood for a moment facing the carved mahogany panels, holding onto the big brass handles.
Ruth Ann decided not to wait for the lecture to start. “Look, I’m sorry I was late. I scheduled the vet visit for one o’clock three months ago, but he had an emergency and didn’t arrive until after two. I couldn’t just walk off and leave him with six horses to handle on his own. Nobody consulted me when they set up this meeting.” She gave a disgusted sniff. “Not surprising. The board would probably have preferred I never show up at all.”
“Especially when you started talking.” Jayne crossed the marble-tiled entry hall and entered the school’s office suite. “Let’s go to my office and sit down.”
Once they’d settled into the chairs on either side of Jayne’s big desk, she shook her head. “Your opposition to the new stable doesn’t make a lot of sense, Ruth Ann. Why wouldn’t you want a new building with all the amenities? Surely an up-to-date facility would make your job easier?”
Ruth Ann propped her elbows on the armrests and stared at her linked fingers as she constructed the answer in her head.
“Why don’t we tear down the Manor and build a new, state-of-the-art classroom building? We could have computer hookups at every seat, modern labs for the science classes, high-tech recordings for the language teachers, an auditorium and a dining room and—”
Laughing, Jayne held up a hand. “Enough, already. I agree—there’s a great deal of historic value in all of the buildings on the estate, including the stable.” She took a deep breath and slowly blew it out again. “The board—”
“Meaning Miriam Edwards.”
“The board,” Jayne repeated firmly, “believes the current facility is unsafe for the students.”
Ruth Ann characterized that opinion with a single rude word.
“Maybe,” Jayne conceded with a tilt of her head. “We’ve never had an accident involving the building itself. And,” she said before Ruth Ann could, “we’ve never had a girl seriously hurt while riding. You’re a great trainer and instructor, Ruth Ann. You’re a terrific therapist—you and your horses have made a real difference for a number of girls the rest of us had just about given up on.” The Hawkridge School served as a refuge and, often, a last resort for girls whose