A Maverick And A Half. Marie Ferrarella

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A Maverick And A Half - Marie  Ferrarella


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remember, he’s dealing with a lot right now. It’s not easy for a kid his age to go from a big inner city to the sticks. Even so, I think he’s doing a pretty bang-up job of it, all things considered. A lot of other kids in his place might have acted out. You just have to cut him some slack, that’s all,” he told her with feeling.

      Marina opened her mouth but again, she didn’t get a chance to utter a single word. Jake’s father just kept on talking.

      “If anything’s wrong, then it’s my fault. Jake and I hardly had time to exchange two words since I found out about him and bang, suddenly I’m the one in charge of him, making all these big decisions. And hell—heck,” he censored himself, casting a side glance toward her infant daughter, “I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time. This parenting thing is really tough.”

      Well, that’s putting it mildly, Marina couldn’t help thinking. But being a private person, she kept that sentiment to herself. While she was generally friendly and outgoing, there were parts of her life that she considered to be private. Her unexpected entry into motherhood was one of them.

      Anderson didn’t notice the silence. He kept his monologue going.

      “Don’t punish the kid because of my mistakes,” he implored, growing more emotional. “Whatever Jake did that got you angry, he didn’t know any better. Let me talk to him—”

      This could go on for hours, Marina realized, dismayed.

      “Mr. Dalton, stop!” she cried, raising her voice so that he would finally cease talking and take a breath. “I don’t know what gave you the impression that Jake’s done something wrong, but he hasn’t. You’ve really got a great kid there, Mr. Dalton.”

      Anderson stopped dead and stared at her, clearly bewildered. “I don’t understand,” he finally said. “You said we had to talk.”

      “And we do,” Marina agreed. One hand on the car seat, she glanced at her daughter. Despite the man’s verbose monologue, Sydney appeared to be dozing. Thank heavens for small favors, Marina thought. “But not because he’s done something bad.”

      The temporary relief Anderson felt quickly gave way to annoyance. “If he hasn’t done anything wrong, then why am I here?” he wanted to know. “I’ve got a ranch to run.”

      She saw that if she wanted to make any headway with Anderson Dalton, she was going to have to speak up and speak with conviction. Otherwise, the man gave every impression that he would steamroll right over her and keep on going.

      “I asked to see you because I am a little concerned about Jake,” she told him.

      In the corner of her eye, she saw Sydney beginning to stir.

      Please go on sleeping, pumpkin.

      “Concerned?” Anderson echoed. Was she doing a one-eighty on what she’d said a minute ago? Just what was this Ms. Laramie’s game? Didn’t the woman know how to speak plainly? “What’s there to be concerned about?”

      The man was beginning to irritate her. Marina started to wonder if this so-called meeting was ultimately an exercise in futility. But as he’d already said, he was here and since he was, she might as well press on and hope she could get through what appeared to be that thick head of his.

      Sounding as friendly as possible, Marina asked, “Have you noticed how quiet Jake is?”

      Anderson’s eyebrows drew together in what amounted to a perplexed scowl. “Well, yeah, sure. I noticed. Why?”

      Obviously the man needed to have a picture drawn for him. She did what she could to make that happen. “I’m worried that your son might be holding back something that’s really bothering him.”

      Anderson shrugged again. Just like a woman, he thought. Seeing problems where there weren’t any. Couldn’t she just appreciate the fact that Jake wasn’t some loudmouth class comedian?

      “Jake’s been quiet for as long as I’ve known him.” Which was technically the truth. It was also a roundabout way of avoiding stating outright that the length of time he’d been acquainted with his son could only be deemed long in the eyes of a fruit fly. “Like I said, it’s been a major adjustment for him—for any kid,” he stressed, “to move from the city to the country. Did you ever think that maybe Jake’s so quiet because he hasn’t had any time to get to know all that many people here yet?”

      Sydney began to fuss in earnest and Marina automatically rocked the car seat to and fro, mentally crossing her fingers as she tried to lull her daughter back to sleep. She would much rather have turned her full attention to Sydney instead of talking to a thickheaded rancher who didn’t seem to know the first thing about the son living under his roof, but that wasn’t her call. She was Jake’s teacher and she owed it to the boy to help him if he did indeed need any help.

      She tried again, tiptoeing diplomatically into the heart of the subject. “Mr. Dalton, I apologize if I sound as if I’m getting too personal here.” She saw him raise an eyebrow as if he was bracing himself. “But do you and Jake ever really...talk?” she asked, emphasizing the last word.

      “Sure we talk,” Anderson retorted quickly, even as he thought that this wasn’t any of this teacher’s business. “We talk all the time.”

      Marina was highly skeptical about his reply, even though she had a feeling that as far as this man was concerned, he and his son actually did communicate.

      She paused for a moment, taking a breath. She knew that she needed to tread lightly here. She didn’t really know the man, not like she knew the parents of a great many of her other students, and she got the feeling that he wasn’t happy about the question she was putting to him. Even so, this needed to be asked and she wasn’t one who backed away, not when there was a child’s well-being at stake.

      “No, Mr. Dalton, I mean talk about things that really matter,” she stressed.

      Judging by the expression on his face, Marina felt she had her answer before the man opened his mouth to say a single word. But she waited for him to say something in his own defense anyway.

      “Maybe not so much,” Anderson finally conceded rather grudgingly. He didn’t like having his shortcomings placed on display like this. “But I don’t want Jake to feel as if I’m pressuring him about anything,” he added quickly—and truthfully. He remembered what it was like, being hauled out on the proverbial carpet by one or both of his parents and taken to task for something he’d done—or hadn’t done when he should have. He didn’t want to make that sort of a mistake with Jake. He wanted Jake to feel like his own person.

      He watched as Jake’s teacher pressed her lips together and murmured, “I see.”

      With his back up, he felt his shoulders stiffen. What a condescending woman, he thought. How the hell could she possibly “see” when she knew nothing about him, about Jake or about the dynamics of their still freshly minted relationship?

      “No,” Anderson informed her angrily, struggling to hold on to his temper, “you don’t.”

      The man clearly had a chip on his shoulder now, Marina thought. He hadn’t behaved as if he had one when he’d first walked in. Was she somehow responsible for the change in attitude?

      “All right,” she conceded, giving him the benefit of the doubt. “Then why don’t you tell me?”

      That was not the response he’d expected. Caught off guard and unprepared, Anderson started talking before he had a chance to fully weigh his words.

      “For the first ten years of Jake’s life, I didn’t even have a clue that the kid existed—so I wasn’t able to be part of that life,” he added, which was, to him, the whole point of his frustration. He should have been there for the boy. To guide him, to support him and to get to know him. “Now that I’ve gotten temporary custody, I think that Jake’s confused and conflicted—not that I blame him,” he added quickly. “His whole world has changed and he’s discovered that everything


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