Chapter Two
Shauna
S hauna filed less paperwork for her rare days in court than it took to register one teenager for high school. Immunization records had taken a few days to acquire, but the real objects of interest proved to be the official transcripts from Taryn’s previous school.
Those gems found Shauna and Taryn sitting in the principal’s office late on Friday afternoon while Mr. Dunning, with his gray, military-style-cut hair, and frigid, no-nonsense glare, made them squirm.
Shauna, despite being thoroughly intimidated by him, approved of his style. The metal detector at the school’s entrance had been another eye-opening touch. Their mother might have made a wise decision, for once. This wasn’t private school anymore, where the staff were paid to be nice.
Taryn had arrived early Wednesday evening—she said she’d done some sightseeing along the way—and so far, things had been going fine.
So fine, in fact, it made Shauna nervous.
Taryn was polite but made no genuine attempts at conversation.
Eye contact with her was rare and likely accidental.
She spent most of her time on her phone.
However, she’d also settled into her room in Shauna’s small, rented bungalow without any complaints about having to share the main bathroom.
She’d accepted the list of household chores taped to the fridge without argument.
There was the possibility that she’d learned her lesson from the latest expulsion, and banishment to Montana had made an impact on her.
It was more likely that Shauna was being set up.
“Well, Ms. Morris,” the principal said, addressing Taryn directly.
He patted the thick file on his desk with flat, broad-padded fingers.
A bony wrist jutted from the cuff of his pristine white shirt.
“This is quite an impressive record you have here. I especially admire breaking into the school library after hours and stocking the shelves with reading material more suited to your personal tastes. Regardless of the inappropriateness of your choices, the deviation from the current book burning trend is refreshing. Our dress code is clearly posted on our website,” he added.
“I suggest you take a look at it before Monday morning, or you run the risk of being sent home to change.”
Taryn, a petite, blue-eyed blonde beauty, tossed her thick mane of curls and eyed him with haughty contempt. “All the girls in LA dress like this.”
This being a ribbed, sleeveless beige dress with a hem that stopped a hair’s breadth short of mid-thigh, and soft, black leather ankle boots.
A matching leather tote hung from the back of her chair.
She looked stylish and cute, and since it was late on a Friday afternoon, and she was unlikely to be sent home, Shauna saw no reason to take sides in a fashion dispute.
Not until she’d looked at the school’s dress code for herself.
“Fortunately, this isn’t Los Angeles. You won’t need to represent its residents here,” Mr. Dunning said briskly.
“That’s a load off your shoulders. Since you’ve attended private schools until now, I assume you’re familiar with wearing a uniform.
Think of our dress code as being like those uniforms, but with fewer restrictions. ”
“So, Wranglers and cowboy boots, and plaid shirts with ruffles on them?”
Teenaged sarcasm rolled off Mr. Dunning like water off a duck’s back. He didn’t so much as blink. “Everything but the hat. No head coverings of any kind.”
“Not even a hijab?”
“I had no idea you were Muslim, Ms. Morris.” He flipped an indifferent glance between her dress and her face.
“Bring me a note from your mother confirming it’s for religious purposes, and we can discuss it further.
” He turned to Shauna, who was enjoying the exchange more than she should.
“Did you have any questions for me, Ms. Walsh?”
She didn’t. In fact, she was secretly glad she didn’t have to face him in court.
“Welcome to Custer County Senior High, Ms. Morris,” Mr. Dunning said to Taryn, wisely not offering the teenager his hand. “You’ll need a parking permit if you plan on driving to school. You can pick it up Monday morning at the front desk.”
“What a taint,” Taryn muttered under her breath when they were out on the hall.
For the sake of sisterly solidarity, Shauna kept her more favorable opinion of him to herself.
They had to pass the gymnasium on their way to the main exit. The gym’s double doors were wide open, and people were coming and going. The crowd was predominantly male and under nineteen. Contrary to popular belief, they weren’t all dressed in denim and cowboy boots. Ruffled shirts, either.
“Let’s check this out,” Taryn said. She took a hard right toward the gymnasium doors. The crowd of boys parted for her the way the Red Sea had parted for Moses.
And suddenly, as chins went up and eyes spun toward her little sister, like bird dogs on a hunt, Shauna had bone-chilling, visceral reservations about that cute dress and those boots, and the realities of the responsibility thrust upon her.
The local boys were in serious trouble.
Taryn disappeared as the crowd in the gymnasium closed ranks behind her. Before Shauna could chase after her and attempt damage control, a tall, commanding blonde, in her mid-fifties, stopped her in the hall.
“Shauna! What a surprise seeing you here.”
“Hello, Mrs. Harrington.” She’d forgotten that Wren Harrington, her aunt Freda’s friend, taught senior high biology here. She kept an anxious eye on the gymnasium. “My little sister will be staying with me for a few months, and we had a meeting with Mr. Dunning before she starts classes on Monday.”
The older woman’s eyes lit with wry humor. She required no further details. She understood there would be no good reason for a seventeen-year-old to suddenly relocate at the start of the school year, and to live with her older sister, no less.
“Let me guess… Your sister is the confident little blonde in the snappy knit dress, attracting all the attention? I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
“She’s not the one I’m worried about.”
“A pretty girl from a big city arrives in a small school where the locals have all known each other from birth,” Wren mused, tapping her chin. “This will undoubtedly end up as an educational experience for everyone.”
Shauna pressed her hand to her chest and suppressed a shudder. “Why did a chill just run up and down my spine?”
Wren laughed. “Grand is a small town and she’s the sheriff’s cousin. You’ll know her every move before she does.”
Shauna wasn’t so sure. “Which reminds me. I’d better go find her. We’re headed to Aunt Freda’s for dinner.”
“Say hi to Freda for me.”
The funky smell of old sweat, well-used sports equipment, and floor wax assaulted Shauna’s nose as she entered the gymnasium. Caged LED lights glared overhead. The crowd coalesced in front of the stage at the far end.
No miraculous parting of the sea happened for her. She had to push her way through. Her heels tapped smartly, likely scuffing the floor’s highly glossed finish, as she ignored posted signs on the walls that warned only proper sports shoes were allowed.
A man in jeans, cowboy boots, and a skin-tight, black T-shirt stood behind a long, folding table strewn with stacks of paper.
A battered felt Stetson rested on the raised platform of the stage behind him.
Thick veins corded muscular arms. Brown hair, licked up in front and shaved close on the sides, matched finely angled eyebrows and a faint hint of stubble that suggested either he’d forgotten to shave, or had shaved very early that morning.
He wasn’t much taller than she was—maybe five feet nine or ten against her five eight—and his build could best be described as wiry.
But wow, he was pretty.
She’d been warned early on about the hazards of dating cowboys in Grand. If a woman was seen in public with one more than twice, or invited him into her home after nine o’clock, then they were as good as engaged. Hookups were rare because they were impossible to keep private.
How archaic. She had no interest in marriage. At least, not anytime soon.
A few moments ago, she would have said she had no interest in hookups, either. Her interest in cowboys, however, had suddenly shot through the roof.
He looked up from the table. Bright, laser-blue eyes collided with hers, and her heart skipped a few beats. He was her age, give or take. She wondered if he was married, and if not, where his hookups might happen.
Then, his glance moved on, and her sanity returned. She had to work in this town, and what might be okay in LA or New York wouldn’t fly here. Besides, what had George said? She should focus on Taryn, and what she’d need from her big sister.
Good-looking cowboys abounded. She only had one little sister. Being an exemplary role model was the right place to start.
Taryn was chatting to the teenaged, skinny-jeaned Emo beside the hot cowboy. She tucked the handful of papers he handed her into her leather tote. The boy looked as if he didn’t dare trust his good fortune. That’s the right call, Emo. Don’t trust her.
“You ride bulls?” Taryn was saying to him, her eyes wide in a way that made Shauna want to roll hers.
“A few.” The boy shrugged. “Not as many as Nix, though.” He jerked a thumb in the hot cowboy’s direction.
“Only because I’ve got a few years on you. You’ll catch up in no time,” the hot cowboy said, sounding so humbly sincere and polite that Shauna was momentarily charmed. It was obvious the boy was intent on impressing her sister, and cowboy Nix was helping him out.
Wasn’t that sweet.
From the conversation around her, Shauna gathered they were signing boys up for a rodeo clinic sponsored by the Endeavour Ranch.
She’d been to one or two rodeos, and while the music and the lights and the crowds were quite the experience, she could think of quicker and less painful ways to be killed.