Chapter Four
The following Monday evening, Mira double-checked her computer and Wi-Fi connections for the fourth time and rearranged the stack of handouts on the corner of the table at the front of the meeting room.
She resisted the urge to check her face in the mirror again.
She had done her best to cover the minor cuts and bruises from her accident with a thick layer of makeup.
If she kept the lesson material interesting enough, maybe her students—the ones who didn’t already know about her wreck—wouldn’t notice.
Her stomach fluttered with a mixture of nerves and excitement. She had taught this course enough times that she was confident in her ability to engage her students, but there was always an initial uncertainty.
At the sound of voices approaching, she turned to greet her first pupils. Carter Ames pushed open the door and grinned. “Are we the first?” he asked.
His twin, Dalton, pushed past him. “You might as well get the dunce cap ready for this guy,” he said, patting Carter’s shoulder. “I’m the one in the family who always got straight A’s in school.”
“Hello, Mira.” Bethany stepped forward. “You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good,” Mira said. “Thank you again for all your help.” Her gaze shifted to the fourth man—taller, with close-cropped, darker hair, but the same family resemblance.
He stepped forward and offered his hand. “Deputy Aaron Ames, with the Rayford County Sheriff’s Department.”
“I’m glad you could join us, Deputy Ames.” She took in the four siblings. “Any other family members I should expect?”
“We’re the whole crew,” Carter said.
“Do you have brothers or sisters?” Bethany asked.
“I have four brothers,” Mira said.
“And I thought three were bad,” Bethany said.
“I could tell you stories,” Mira said. Having four brothers had been overwhelming at times, but now that they were all scattered around the country, she missed them.
Other students arrived and began filling the room. “All right everyone. Let’s get started,” Mira called.
She moved to the front of the room and waited while everyone settled behind the long tables that filled the conference room.
“Bienvenida,” she said. “Welcome. Mi nombre es Mira Veronica. My name is Mira Veronica. Let’s start by going around the room and introducing yourselves.
Let us know what organization you’re with and if you’ve had any previous Spanish classes. ”
As each student introduced themselves, she matched the names with the registration forms she had received.
She had a couple of paramedics, two more sheriff’s deputies, three firefighters, and four more search and rescue volunteers.
A good group. About half of them had taken a Spanish class or several in school, but none of them admitted to being fluent.
“My goal isn’t fluency,” Mira said when the introductions were done.
“That wouldn’t be practical in a six-week course.
But by the time we complete our time together you should be able to communicate necessary information to people you may encounter in your work.
You should be able to get your message across and understand the basics until a qualified interpreter comes on the scene. ”
“You might end up being the closest interpreter,” a good-looking brown-haired man with smile lines around his eyes who had introduced himself as Sergeant Gage Walker said. “The sheriff’s department used to call on the previous high school Spanish teacher from time to time.”
“Oh.” Mira told herself she shouldn’t have been surprised. Eagle Mountain was a small town and though she took it for granted there were plenty of Spanish speakers in the area, this wasn’t Santa Fe. “Of course I’d be happy to help. Though if you do well in my class, you probably won’t need me.”
“We’ll always need you.”
She didn’t have to look over to know that Carter had said this, to the laughter of his fellow students.
When she did look at him, he sat up straight and picked up his pen.
“Ready for the first lesson, teacher.” He smirked.
Was he taunting her because he knew her secret?
Or at least some of it? No one else had said anything to her, so she didn’t think he had told anyone about the note she had received and its reference to David.
She turned away, ignoring him. “We’ll start with the basic information you’ll need from people you encounter.
” She passed out a vocabulary sheet and they spent the next forty-five minutes practicing quizzing each other on their names, addresses, ages, occupations and physical conditions.
They learned to ask What is the trouble?
and Where do you hurt?, How can I help you? and Who can we call to help you?
By the end of the two-hour class, Mira had identified the students who had an aptitude for language, and those who would have to work harder.
“Your homework is to keep practicing using those phrases,” she said.
“Get together with each other and try out different scenarios. You might copy the phrases you think you’ll need to use most and put them where they’ll be handy in an emergency. I’ll see you all again on Wednesday.”
Several of the students lingered to talk with her after class, including Carter and his siblings. “How are you doing?” Carter asked, his expression serious, gaze probing enough to make her feel uncomfortable.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Nothing exciting going on at all.” He could make of that what he would.
“That’s good,” he said.
Could a conversation be any more banal? It couldn’t be over fast enough for her.
“Says the man who lives for excitement.” Bethany nudged him. “Don’t let him fool you, Mira. Carter is the real daredevil in the family.”
“She’s just trying to make me look bad,” Carter said.
“Ha!” Dalton said. “The way you drive I’m surprised you haven’t heard from whoever is sending scolding notes to people all over town.”
“Eldon’s girlfriend, May Delgado, got a letter yesterday,” Bethany said. “It said she was violating her lease agreement because Eldon is practically living with her.” She shuddered. “That’s just creepy, the way this guy is spying over everyone.”
Carter didn’t say anything. He wasn’t even looking at her.
“What makes you think it’s a guy?” Dalton asked. “It could be a woman.”
Mira turned to Aaron Ames. “What does the sheriff’s department think about all these letters?” she asked.
“They’re annoying,” he said. “But so far no one’s gotten into real trouble, and the letter writer hasn’t carried through on any of their implied threats.” He shrugged. “We’re collecting the letters people report to us, but we don’t have any leads on who might be writing them.”
“What about the boy who was almost abducted?” Carter asked. “Do they have any idea who tried to grab him?”
Why had Carter asked that question? Had he figured out who David was? How Mira was connected to him?
“I couldn’t tell you if we did,” Aaron said.
“You don’t have to tell me who your suspect is,” Carter said. “Just yes, or no, do you know who tried to grab the boy?”
“No,” Aaron admitted. “But whoever they were, they haven’t made a second attempt. That we know of.” He glanced behind Mira, to the clock on the wall. “It’s almost time for my shift to start. Thanks for the class. It’s going to be very useful.”
“We’d better go, too,” Bethany said. “Thanks, Mira.”
She said good-night, then returned to the front of the room to gather her papers.
The door to the room opened and Carter moved back in, leaving the door open behind him. “I came back to talk to you alone for a minute,” he said.
“I really don’t have time,” she said. She tried to pack up her things faster, but when she grabbed for a stack of handouts they slipped from her hand and cascaded to the floor.
She knelt to gather the scattered papers and Carter met her at floor level.
He scooped up a handful and handed them to her.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said.
“I know I’ve been a jerk, but I never meant to add to your distress.
I have a habit of not thinking before I shoot off my mouth.
” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That remark at the start of class—about needing you—that was out of line.”
“It was.”
He nodded. “And so was my reading the note you were sent. But I’ve already apologized for that. What I came back tonight to say is that whatever is going on, your secret is safe with me. But if you ever do want to talk to someone about it, or you need help, I’m here for you.”
“Because you want to go out with me.”
“No!” He stood, and she rose also. He shoved both hands in his pockets.
“I mean yes, I’d like to go out with you.
But that’s not why I offered to help. Whether you believe it or not, I think of you as a friend.
And I help my friends.” His expression was defiant, chin jutting, eyes fierce, but with a hint of pleading that threatened to melt at least some of the ice around her heart.
This was the Carter who had comforted her when she had been suspended so uncomfortably in her wrecked car. The man who volunteered his time to save the lives of strangers. “Thanks,” she said. “That means a lot.”
He took out his phone. “Let me give you my number. If you need help, call me. I don’t live far away. What’s your number?”
She hesitated. “I promise I won’t call and harass you,” he said. “I’m not that full of myself.”
The way he said the words—all injured pride—had her biting back a smile.
“All right.” She gave him her number and a moment later her phone pinged with a text.
“If you get any more nasty grams, or see anyone hanging around who makes you uncomfortable, call me,” he said.
“It doesn’t matter when it is. Now, I’d better go. ” He turned to leave.
“Carter?”
He stopped and looked back.
“Thanks,” she said.
He dipped his head, almost bashful, then turned and left.