Wolf Creek Father. Penny Richards
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don’t know,” Cilla said, “but he sure is crabby.”
Colt was still crabby when he went to bed. He fell asleep along toward morning and dreamed of pressing his lips to each and every one of the freckles adorning Allison Grainger’s straight little nose.
When he woke the next morning, he was crankier than ever.
Allison didn’t fall asleep until late for worrying about her future. She prided herself on being a good person and a good teacher, and in general felt she was. Since she’d reached her teen years and realized she would never be the beauty her sisters were, she had tied her self-esteem to her teaching skills. Now even that was in jeopardy.
Perhaps it was time to give up teaching and find another career. She’d fallen asleep thinking that it was too bad that she couldn’t just find a husband to take care of her, but even as she’d thought it, she wondered if she would be happy with that solution.
* * *
Allison was barely out of bed the next morning when someone knocked on her door. Tightening the sash of her seersucker wrapper and pushing back a lock of hair that had sprung free from her nightly braid, she opened the door to find Danny Stone—no, Danny Gentry now that his parents had been reunited—standing there, a serious expression on his face.
“Mornin’, Miss Grainger,” he said in a self-important tone. “Mayor Talbot sent me to tell you that he wants to see you in his office at nine sharp.”
A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. Time for a reckoning. Time to see whether or not she would have a job come the start of the school year.
“Thank you, Danny,” she said. “How is your mother?”
“She’s fine, Miss Grainger. She and my dad are real happy.”
“That’s wonderful. Give them my best.” Allie meant every word, even though the news left a hollow feeling inside her she was beginning to think might never be filled.
“Yes, ma’am, I will. ’Bye.”
“Goodbye, Danny.”
She closed the door and leaned against it, tears of self-pity burning beneath her eyelids. She reconsidered her thoughts about finding a husband from the night before. Even if she did consider that as a solution, the major drawback about living in a town the size of Wolf Creek was that unattached men were scarce, and of those who were eligible, few were considered decent husband material. Even fewer wanted a nearsighted, middle-aged spinster with freckles and a few too many pounds. She saw no husband or children of her own on her horizon.
Finding another career was not possible, either—not at this point in her life. What else could a single woman do to support herself besides, perhaps, nursing? She gave a little shudder. God bless the people who could take care of the sick. That was not for her. Though she did not faint at the sight of blood, she did tend to panic in emergencies.
She sighed. There was nothing for her but years of teaching other people’s children, wiping their runny noses, cleaning up after them when they got sick and kissing their bumps and bruises. The best she could hope for was contentment, a pleasant place to live and a job that gave her satisfaction.
Job. She glanced at the mantel clock and saw that it was already 8:00 a.m. Muttering beneath her breath about Colt Garrett and his unruly children, she shoved away from the door and headed for the bedroom to get ready. She only hoped that after the meeting with Homer, she had a job.
* * *
When Allison stepped through the mayor’s door, she saw that Colt was already seated in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Even without her glasses, there was no hiding the scowl on his attractive face. As she neared the empty chair beside him, she noticed that his cheeks still bore yesterday’s stubble, as if he, too, had been given short notice of the meeting and hadn’t had time to shave. Combined with the unyielding expression in his unusual tawny eyes, he looked a tad dangerous and 100 percent handsome male. Somehow, she was not in the least surprised that he was already angry, or at the very least irritated.
Her heart fluttered in a sudden burst of awareness that sent her heart racing beneath the wide flounce that made a V from her waistband up and over her shoulders.
Knowing it was futile to have any physical response to him, no matter how attractive he might be, and desperate to control her runaway emotions, she forced her gaze to Homer, smiled and murmured a polite “Good morning, gentlemen.”
The mayor and the sheriff muttered their replies almost in tandem.
“Have a seat, Miss Grainger,” Homer said, indicating the empty chair. “This shouldn’t take long.”
As Allison stepped between the two chairs, she drew her skirts aside to keep them from brushing against the sheriff’s long denim-clad legs. Unnerved by his nearness—indeed, by everything about him—and wondering what had happened to make him so surly since they’d talked the previous day, she dropped into the chair next to his with a decidedly ungraceful and unladylike plop.
Her cheeks burned with mortification. What was it about the man that caused her to lose her professional demeanor and behave with uncharacteristic gaucheness? Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she kept her gaze on the mayor.
“I was up half the night considering the situation,” Homer began, “and after consulting with the members of the town council, two of whom are on the school board, I think I have a clear picture of the situation.”
He turned toward Colt. “It’s a well-known fact that your children get out of hand on occasion. Would you agree with that?”
“I would.” Colt’s response was curt.
“And it’s a matter of record that Miss Grainger has had several meetings with you and the board, not only about their conduct at school, but about the need to supply Brady with extra tutoring at home.”
Colt shot a dark look at Allison from beneath golden-tipped eyebrows. “She has, yes.”
“And have you complied with her requests?”
“Not to the degree she would like, I suppose,” he admitted with a slight shrug of his wide shoulders. Only the whitening knuckles of his hands as they tightened on the arms of the chair said that he was not as indifferent as he appeared.
“Well, it’s obvious to everyone that the situation must change, if it is to ever be resolved,” the mayor declared.
“I realize that, sir, and I promise to try to do better, but what she asks is no easy task.”
“Parenting is never easy, son,” Homer said, his impatience clear. “You should know that by now. I expect you to do better. Brady will thank you for it in the long run.”
Dull red color crept up the sheriff’s cheeks. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Satisfied that Colt would do as he was told, Homer barreled ahead. “What do you plan to do about the property damage the children inflicted on Miss Grainger’s personal belongings?”
“I’ve spoken to the children and made arrangements to have the eyeglasses replaced, and I’ve also talked to Gabe about replacing Miss Grainger’s hat and gloves at my expense. He’s agreed to let the children work off the debt by helping out at the store every day.”
“Well done, Colt, well done! Your willingness to do the right thing somewhat restores my faith in my choice of you as our sheriff.”
Satisfied that Colt had been put into his proper place, Homer switched his attention to Allison. “And you, Miss Grainger. Everyone knows that I have always thought we were fortunate to hire you, and with your sister living here, it seemed a mutually beneficial arrangement. However, I was under the impression that you were made of sterner stuff. I never thought two misbehaving children would cause