Chapter 18
Shiloh
“We can’t offer much pay. It’s part-time, and there are no benefits. You could probably make more in tips at Jerkers.”
Principal Sheffield was a straight shooter. She’d taken one look at my Missouri teaching license, my resume documenting my years in the St. Louis schools, and hired me on the spot. Pending a formal background check, anyway, but I wasn’t worried about that. My ex had been the criminal, not me.
“Way to sell him on it,” Parker said with a laugh. “Damn. No wonder we’re short-staffed.”
The three of us were walking down the corridor toward the cafeteria.
I could hear the screams of laughter from here.
At least the voices were mostly happy. I’d once gotten in the middle of a truly awful lunchroom skirmish.
My favorite jacket got so stained with ketchup I looked as if I’d just committed murder.
Which I really wanted to do. I’d had to settle for suspension.
I’d taken great joy in banning Tommy Schrader from school for three days. The bully was constantly harassing other kids, and finally, he’d been caught…well, not red-handed, but sauce-handed, certainly.
Thoughts of hands took me right back to last week, when Holden had placed his palm against mine for the first time.
He’d been trembling with nerves, and I could see how hard it was for him, but never did I feel unwanted.
The opposite, really. He wanted to be close to me so badly he was fighting his demons.
Most of the guys I dated gave in to their demons instead. Not that I was dating Holden, exactly. But we were something more than friends. The amount of trust he’d shown me bonded us more deeply than any casual fling could.
We’d continued to touch over the past week.
We practiced before bedtime, when Holden was up for it.
Some days, he was too tired or stressed, but most of the time, he wanted to try for a few minutes before we went to bed.
The progress was slow, but I could see it in incremental steps.
How quickly he could reach for me and how long he could keep our palms pressed together changed from day to day.
He’d even touched me spontaneously a couple of times.
He’d brushed my fingers when he handed me the mayo while we made lunch yesterday, making my heart lurch like a middle schooler with a crush.
And a couple of nights before that, he’d grazed his knuckles along the back of my hand under the dinner table.
Such small gestures, yet they rocked me more than the most intimate touch from a different partner.
I wanted more, of course, but I was trying to be patient and take it as it came.
This man spent years avoiding more than the most perfunctory touch.
That couldn’t change overnight. But tell that to the butterflies in my stomach and the heat of arousal that shot through me at the idea of getting more physical with him.
I’d never yearned for someone so dang much.
“Mr. Blum?” Principal Sheffield broke into my thoughts. “I hope the pay isn’t a deal-breaker. We could pay more for a full-time teacher, but without your license…”
“No, I know. School budgets are always so tight. I’m honestly just so happy to get back into the classroom.”
A little girl of about nine raced down the hall ahead of us.
“Stacy, slow down!” Principal Sheffield called in warning.
Stacy skidded to a stop and shot us a desperate look. “I need the bathroom!”
“Well, go on, but be careful,” Sheffield said.
Stacy took off at a fast walk, and Parker nodded in her direction. “I better get Ms. Thomas to check on her. Stacy’s been having a few accidents lately.”
“Poor thing,” Principal Sheffield said with a frown creasing her forehead. “It might be time to talk to her mother.”
“Her parents divorced last month,” Parker told me. “I imagine it’s been tough.”
“Is she your student, then?”
“No, but I know every kid in this place. It’s a small school.” He gave me a quick wave, walking backward down the hall. “Take the job and help us out! I’ll call you later.”
Damn. I’d known all my students and most of my grade level, but every kid in the building just wasn’t possible at my old school.
Riverton really would be a different experience.
I liked the idea of knowing every student who passed through the walls, of watching them grow and change as they passed from grade to grade.
I bet a lot fewer kids fell through the cracks, overlooked or underserved in a place like this.
I’d done a lot of good in the St. Louis schools. I’d prided myself on seeing the children who needed the extra attention or encouragement. But I could only do so much once they were no longer in my class.
Here, I could ensure my students continued to succeed.
Not that you’ll have any students of your own. Not as a substitute…
“Well, what’s the verdict?” Sheffield asked. “Can you help us out?”
I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I’ll take the job. I don’t know how long I can stay without better pay and benefits, but I’d love to work with students while I’m here.”
“You could always get licensed in Nebraska,” Sheffield said. “We’d be able to offer you something more appropriate.”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Can I ask what made you leave St. Louis?”
Damn. I’d almost made it through without that sticky question. I tried to stick close to the truth.
“I had a messy breakup, and there were some problems with harassment. The administration wasn’t thrilled about my boyfriend in the first place, so…”
“Say no more,” she said, lifting her hands.
“Here at Riverton, we support our queer educators.” She clucked.
“Parker Reid is one of our best. I can’t imagine judging him for his choice of partner.
” She leaned in, smiling a little. “Though it’s tough to judge anyone for going for that hunky Simon Prentiss.
They were both college football stars, you know. ”
I’d heard something about that from Emory. “I guess you lucked out that they landed here.”
“We sure did,” she said, looking a little dreamy-eyed. After a big sigh, she shook it off. “Anyway, if you get that license, I’d love to talk about a more permanent position with a salary more commensurate with your skills.”
“I appreciate that.”
It was probably wrong to let her assume Jimmie was the reason I got fired, but then again, he kind of was?
I’d never have been working as a camboy if not for his crew of petty criminals targeting me.
I’d taken hit after hit with him. This seemed like the universe’s way of giving me a break.
And honestly, if it meant I could stay in Riverton for more than a few weeks, I’d take it.
“I don’t think they’ll give me a reference,” I told her.
She flapped her hand. “You’re just substituting for now. We’ll have plenty of time to observe you in the classroom before a permanent teaching position becomes an option. Besides, Parker vouched for you.”
I seriously owed him a beer. He was sticking his neck out for someone he barely knew. I was new to the small-town life, but if this was how it worked, I was ready to sign up.
I said my goodbyes to Sheffield, promising to check my email later for scheduling, tax forms, and the district policy. Basically, all the red tape that went with starting a new job.
Holden had let me take his GTO to my interview, to Bailey’s outrage. Apparently, he’d never been allowed to drive it.
I slid behind the wheel, started the engine, and turned on the GPS, even though I mostly knew my way back. Riverton wasn’t too hard to navigate. The town curved along a river, with an industrial district on one side and the downtown square and nicer neighborhoods on the other.
The brothers’ auto shop and house were on the edge of town, past the pool hall, tattoo parlor, and sex shop. In other words, as far as possible from the fancier houses by the community college.
I turned on Bluetooth and streamed some Taylor Swift on the way back, bouncing in my seat. Even with the low pay, it felt like a step in the right direction.
When I returned, Bailey was bent over an open car, talking some mechanical foreign language to Flynn, who looked like he understood it better than I did.
Holden opened his office door, face set in stern lines that eased as soon as he saw me. “Hey! How did the interview go?”
I skipped over to him, beaming. “I have a job!”
“Yes! That’s great, Shy!”
I raised my arms as if to hug him, then caught myself and dropped them.
“Yeah!” I said, speaking quickly to cover the blunder. “The principal was great, and I owe Parker big-time. He basically told them I’d be good.”
“You will be,” Holden said, tone a bit off, as if he, too, was feeling the missing hug between us. “You’re a great teacher.”
“None of you know that,” I said. “I could be crap at it.”
“Some things you just know,” he said with a shrug. “You love it way too much to be anything but great.”
Gray handed us each a beer from the corner fridge, the glass bottle cold and wet with condensation. “Drink up, Teach. You did good.”
I took the bottle, a little bemused. I didn’t think I’d ever had so many people invested in my goals before.
Holden held up his drink. “Here’s to Riverton getting the best damn teacher in Nebraska.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Gray said.
“Me too.” Flynn raised his bottle and took a sip. Poor Bailey was stuck with a root beer, but he drank gamely.
“I still say I should get to drive the GTO,” he said.
“Nope!” Holden said with relish. “That’s reserved for teachers only.”
The guys all laughed, even Bailey, but I was too busy trying not to cry. I’d thought I’d lost teaching, and I had sure as hell lost my family. Who knew they’d be waiting for me in some tiny little town in the Midwest?