Читать книгу Her Family Wish - Betsy Amant St. - Страница 9

Chapter Three

A gust of October wind sent myriad crimson and gold leaves skittering past Hannah’s feet. She adjusted the settings on her Nikon and squinted through the viewfinder. Perfect. As soon as her eleven o’clock appointment arrived at the park, she’d set the siblings up on the low branches of this oak and be able to catch the last of the morning light.

A car door slammed from the lot behind her, and Hannah turned in time to see what had to be the McDuffy family rushing toward her. The teenage girl, Sarah, if she remembered correctly, held her hands up to protect her spiral-curled hair from the wind, while the younger boy—Adam?—hurried toward her, carefree. Hannah waved and smiled, never tired of seeing what a few years in age and gender could mean for priorities.

A second girl hurried behind the first, and once they cleared the shadow of the pavilion, Hannah blinked. Abby. But not the braided, plaid Abby. This one had on subtle makeup and was dressed more like her friend in trendy jeans and a sparkly layered top.

“Hey, guys.” Hannah smiled. “Abby, I didn’t expect to see you here!”

“You know Ms. Hart?” Mrs. McDuffy asked in surprise.

Abby nodded, avoiding her gaze. Hannah frowned. That wasn’t like her. She was so personable in class.

“The girls had a sleepover last night and thought it’d be fun if Abby tagged along.” Mrs. McDuffy tried in vain to smooth her son’s cowlick. “Oh, well. I guess photography is meant to record accuracy anyway.”

“Don’t worry. I can do wonders with editing.” Hannah winked. “Come on, guys, I thought we’d take a few shots in this tree over here.”

“Cool!” Adam bolted forward, scrambling for the lowest branch.

Sarah wrinkled her nose and stared at the tree like it might spring to life and devour her. “Will I get dirty?”

“I have tissues in my bag.” Hannah urged her forward. Mrs. McDuffy strolled a few paces back to lean against the fence separating the park from the road. But Abby stood awkwardly next to Hannah, head still turned down, feigning great interest in her shoes. Hannah took a quick shot of Sarah and Adam in the tree. “Adam, scoot closer toward the trunk.” She waited while he shifted, lowering her voice. “You okay, Abby?”

“Uh-huh.” The breeze nearly carried away the soft reply, and Hannah wondered if she should press the issue or take the girl’s cue and leave it alone. She never liked being pushed to talk about things when she was younger. Best to ignore it for now—maybe distraction would open her up.

“Adam, that’s perfect.” Hannah took a few more shots then tilted her head. “Sarah, can you stand on the lowest branch? Adam, sit on the one above her.” The kids scrambled to follow orders, Sarah pausing twice to wipe her hands.

Hannah dropped to her stomach, laying flat on the ground, to catch a unique angle.

Abby gaped at her. “You don’t mind getting dirty?”

“Nope. That’s why I wear old clothes to photo shoots.” Hannah rolled sideways and braced her arm on her knee to get a sideways shot of the kids grinning through the leaves. “Thanks, guys! Let’s take a few by the slides.” She slowed her pace to match Abby’s as the siblings and Mrs. McDuffy headed toward the playground equipment. The wind lifted Abby’s blond hair, flowing freely across her shoulders, and turned the strands to honey. “Speaking of clothes, you look cute today. Trying out a new look?”

Abby looked over her shoulder, and then lowered her voice even though no one was around. “It’s only for fun. I don’t get to wear it often.”

Hannah hiked her bag higher on her shoulder. “Why not? You look great.”

“My dad likes my other look better.” She rolled her eyes. “You know, the baby look with ponytails and dresses.”

“I see.” But she didn’t, really. Hannah could understand a father being overprotective with his daughter—after all, her daddy was the same way even though she was almost thirty and lived three states away—but it wasn’t as if Abby was doing anything inappropriate. However, these early teen years were rough, and on a single parent, probably rougher than she realized. “For what it’s worth, you’re a pretty girl either way.”

A pleased blush tinted Abby’s cheeks and she smiled shyly. “Thanks, Ms. Hart.” As if a burden were suddenly lifted, she waved her arm at Sarah several paces ahead. “Hey, wait up!”

Hannah watched Abby jog across the park, glad the girl’s smile was firmly back in place. She couldn’t help but wonder about Abby’s mom. Had she died? Had she and Jude divorced? He carried a burden in his eyes that resembled grief, so maybe an accident had stolen the former Mrs. Bradley. It seemed so unfair that such a sweet girl like Abby, in need of female guidance, would be robbed of her mother. Hannah’s hand went to the scar on her face, her fingers tracing the slightly curved pattern she could draw in her sleep. But life wasn’t fair—she was walking proof of that.

Enough bitterness. Hannah joined the group on the slides and placed the kids in different positions on the equipment. “Adam, tone back the smile a bit, okay?” The boy’s toothy grin held more cheese than a warehouse in Wisconsin. She nodded as he narrowed his smile to something more natural. “Sarah, your necklace is crooked. Now, everyone say ‘school’s out’!”

The kids laughed on cue and Hannah took the shot.

After several more pictures, Mrs. McDuffy suggested that Abby get on the top of the jungle gym beside Sarah. “I think a few friend photos are in order.”

Hannah hesitated. Jude had made it clear he didn’t want any free photography, but if this was Mrs. McDuffy’s idea—and money—then why would he resist? Technically, it wouldn’t be free at all.

Decision made, Hannah nodded. “Sure thing.” She crouched at the end of the slide, attempting to capture on camera the friendship that shone so sincerely in real life between the girls. Linking arms, they slid down the slide. Click. She caught them posing on the wooden bridge connecting two jungle gyms. Click. And again on the swings, legs pumping furiously as if they were children instead of almost teenagers.

Hannah paused to study the photos on her camera’s LCD screen, admiring the innocence and beauty in both of their faces. A particular photo caught Hannah’s eyes, and she looked up at Abby, then glanced back at her camera, grinning as an idea took root. Just because Hannah needed to keep her distance from the handsome assistant principal didn’t mean she couldn’t take an opportunity to help mend a fence between father and daughter.

And she knew just how to do it.

* * *

Jude frowned at the budget on his desk, wishing the numbers would rearrange themselves into something presentable. This wasn’t looking good—in fact, it was getting downright grim. He shoved the papers away with a sigh, wishing it was as easy to push aside the stress headache now permanently taking up residence in his neck. Head Principal Coleman had sent another email to the upper staff today, clarifying that the electives at school were in danger because of the budget and there would be big decisions to make in the near future. Exactly what that meant, Jude had yet to discover.

Part of him didn’t even want to know.

Jude sighed. Between Abby’s teenage pride and this issue with the budget, he rarely had a moment’s peace. He rolled a pencil between his fingers, staring at the yellow blur flipping over his knuckles. It didn’t help that thoughts of Hannah consumed him more than they should have over the weekend. With Abby spending the night at a friend’s house, he had ample time to wonder what he said wrong in his apology Friday afternoon. Though Hannah’s words assured him all was well, her expression and manner had certainly not as she excused herself to go back to the class. Was she still offended? Or simply cautious?

It shouldn’t matter. Even if his attraction to her was obvious—though hopefully not obvious to her—he had to tamp it down. He had no business with a photographer, no interest in being with someone who constantly reminded him of everything he was attempting to keep his daughter from.

He groaned. It figured. An attractive woman finally snagged his interest, without the help of Abby’s inevitable matchmaking attempts, but he couldn’t—make that wouldn’t—pursue it. It wouldn’t be fair, not until he figured a few things out about himself, first—assuming he ever did.

Jude’s secretary, Mrs. Oakes, tapped on his open door, her frizzy dark hair even more out of place today than usual. He winced, knowing her stress was partly a consequence of his own. He made a mental note to take full advantage of the upcoming secretary appreciation day.

“Sir, Ms. Hart is here to see you.”

Hannah? All thoughts of secretary appreciation fled his mind. Despite logic warning him otherwise, Jude’s heart hammered a telltale thump and he dropped the pencil still in his hand. “Great. Send her in.” Maybe he could practice being a professional in front of her now, rather than nearly moony as he’d been during their hallway talk—though not as easily done as said. It wasn’t just her appearance that knocked Jude off center. After all, he’d been around attractive women before—had married one, for that matter—but rather something deeper. Something about Hannah seemed to look right through him and see things he didn’t show very often.

Make that ever.

How did she get under his skin like that? Maybe he was more desperate for female company than he’d realized. Maybe it was time to date again, if only to keep these crazy thoughts at bay when around Hannah.

Because he sure couldn’t date her.

Hannah appeared in the door frame seconds later, her shoulder-length brown hair swept up on one side with a clip, revealing the long line of her neck above the scoop of her sweater. He cleared his throat, hoping she hadn’t caught him staring. Even with the scar slightly hidden under the curtain of hair on her left side, she was beautiful.

“Hi.” She hesitated in the doorway, clutching a manila envelope and looking as timid as his students did when they came to his office. “Is this a good time?”

“Of course.” He motioned to the hard plastic seat in front of his desk where many a student had pouted, cried, yelled, or all of the above, and waited until Hannah sat before doing the same. “Sorry that chair is so uncomfortable. Usually the people sitting in it are in trouble.”

“Then it’s the perfect way to start their punishment.” Hannah shifted in the seat and Jude couldn’t help but laugh.

“How can I help you today, Hannah?” He liked saying her name. Too much. Rein it in. No point in sending mixed messages, messages he couldn’t act on.

Even though too much of him already wanted to.

She opened the envelope she held with manicured fingers, and Jude’s relaxed smile faded to a slight frown. Miranda had been adamant about her weekly manicures and pedicures during their short marriage, a fact that had put their barely existent young family budget on a strain. But she argued that if she was going to have a baby and ruin her body, she should get to have pretty nails. He’d agreed with her at the time. But after she lost her baby weight and ended up a size smaller than she’d started out being, he knew he was in trouble—and that trouble had nothing to do with spending two hundred dollars a month on nail care.

Now he wished women would just go back to nail-biting.

Hannah pulled an eight-by-ten-size sheet from the envelope, and from the quick glimpse he got before she hid it from his view, he gathered it was a picture. “I know you said you weren’t interested in having a session done, but since Abby tagged along to her friend’s session this past weekend, they suggested the idea of friend photos. I thought you’d like to have this one.” She slowly turned the picture so he could see.

His breath caught at the sight of his daughter, a close-up of her beaming from the top of a slide, head tilted back and hair naturally highlighted in the sun. Jude reached across the desk and took the photo Hannah offered, his stomach a hard knot. Abby looked beautiful—of course. Like she had a choice with her mom’s portion of genes in her. He licked his lips, wishing the rock now lodged in his throat would settle back down in his stomach.

Nodding once, he cleared his throat. “Thank you. This is thoughtful.” Surely Hannah didn’t intend the knifelike wound twisting his insides. Despite that, he did like the picture. Because of his own memories and fears, he hadn’t taken nearly enough pictures of his daughter growing up. But if he did, and displayed them around the house, she would see how gorgeous she was and get the same idea Miranda had. He couldn’t lose his daughter the same way he lost his wife.

He refused to let her travel that path of destruction.

“I’m so glad you like it.” Hannah sat back in her chair, exhaling with a smile. She balanced the envelope on her lap. “I took a few more. But that one was my favorite.”

His eyes darted back to the print. It was a great shot. But…wait a minute. Abby’s hair was down and loose, which was unusual. And her clothes—he squinted, certain his eyes were playing tricks on him. What was she wearing? That shirt was not something he’d purchased. Neither was the makeup.

His fingers tightened on the photo and he quickly dropped it on his desk before he could crinkle the fragile paper. In fact, Abby hadn’t even told him she was going with her friend to a photo shoot at all. How many other lies lingered between them?

Hannah’s eyebrows knitted together, as if reading his mind. Or maybe he was just that obvious these days. “What’s wrong?”

“This is— She knows better than to—” Jude cut off his own sentence and pinched the bridge of his nose, uncertain how much to reveal to Hannah but unable to keep the frustration from bubbling up and over. “She’s wearing makeup. And clothes I don’t allow. She lied to me.”

Hannah’s face paled. “Lied? I knew she looked different than usual, more trendy, but I never thought—”

“She knows the rules.” Abby was his kid. And his kid and trendy didn’t mix. Not that Hannah could understand that.

Hannah held up both hands in defense. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to open a can of worms here. Mrs. McDuffy suggested the group photo and—” She reached for the picture on his desk as if to take it back, but Jude placed one hand on it and held it in place.

“Leave it.”

She leaned back, confusion splayed across her face. “I was hoping to surprise you in a good way, not get Abby in trouble.”

“You didn’t know. She did.” Jude sighed, reminding himself this wasn’t Hannah’s fault. It was Abby’s. Why couldn’t she accept no for an answer and trust him as her father? Whether his instincts were right or wrong, she’d disobeyed.

And now he had proof.

“I’ll keep this. I do appreciate the gesture. It’s just…complicated.”

Hannah stood, frowning, her fingers tapping the envelope pressed against her leg. She opened her mouth, then closed it before doing the same again twice.

Jude recognized the hesitation from his students, the desire to say what was on their mind but being afraid of getting in trouble if they did. He was tired of beating around the bush. He wanted honesty. Craved it, especially after the way his own daughter evaded him. “Go ahead. You won’t offend me.”

Hopefully. Not offending Jude seemed to be getting harder to accomplish lately. Was that why Abby had been at odds with him so much the past several months? He thought he’d gotten a handle on his temper in the counseling sessions he attended after Miranda’s desertion years ago, then again after receiving news of her death. Maybe it was the stress of the budget wearing on him. That alone was enough to drive a man crazy, much less this drama with his almost-teenager.

At Hannah’s hesitation, he pressed on. “Please, say what’s on your mind.”

Her words rushed out, tumbling over each other like a waterfall off a cliff. “I know I’m not a parent, but I’m curious why you have these rules for Abby. She’s a good kid. I know you know that. But honestly, she looked cute at the park. Not inappropriate by any means.”

Jude stood, his irritation now welling despite his good intentions to tamp it down. He’d heard enough about his parenting ability from both his parents and his in-laws. He didn’t need it from a stranger, too—even one as sweet and attractive as Hannah. She didn’t know what she was talking about, didn’t know him or his family. He pressed his lips into a thin line. “You’re right. You’re not a parent. So you can’t understand this.”

Her eyes widened and she flinched as if he’d dealt a physical blow. Her jaw clenched, and she nodded once, her voice soft. “Then I’m sorry to interfere.” She glanced at the envelope in her hands, and with a flick of her wrist, tossed the entire package on top of his desk.

Guilt rocked Jude’s senses as several different-size photos of the same image slipped free of the envelope. Once again, he was taking his frustration out on the wrong person. Jude held out his hand. “Hannah, wait. I shouldn’t have—”

Without looking back, Hannah slipped out of the room.