Читать книгу Lessons from the Heart - Dorothy Clark - Страница 11

Hmm, let’s see…poster boards, markers, letter stencils and tracing paper—that should do it. Now all she needed was some manila folders and she was finished shopping. Erin wheeled the cart down the next aisle, picked up the folders and headed for the checkout.

“Did you find everything you wanted today?”

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled at the cashier and lifted the items out of the cart onto the counter.

“Cash or charge?”

“Charge.” She reached into her pocket.

“Erin?”

David Carlson. Erin’s pulse stuttered. It had been two weeks, but she’d know that rich, baritone voice anywhere. She arranged her features into a polite smile and turned. “Hello, Mr. Carlson.”

“That’s David.” He inclined his head toward the items the clerk was putting into a plastic bag. “Looks like you’ve got a big project coming up.”

“Yes.” She handed the woman the school’s credit card. “The children learned about animals from the different areas of our country this year, and we’re going to make posters about them to decorate our room for graduation.” She signed her name to the slip, then slid the card and the receipt in her jeans pocket.

“Sounds like fun.”

“I think the children will enjoy it.” She gave him a polite smile. “Nice seeing you again.” She lifted the bag off the counter, and the large poster boards promptly flopped out onto the floor. “Oops!”

David stooped and picked up the boards. “Slippery things, plastic bags. I’ll carry these for you.”

“That’s very kind, but—” she stretched out her hand “—I don’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother.” David tucked the posters under his arm, paid for the ink cartridge he was buying and followed her out the door. “Where’s your car?”

“Across the street. I like to walk in the park when I’m finished shopping.” She hurried her steps.

“That sounds like a good idea. Would you mind if I joined you?”

Did he think—? Erin jerked her head sideways to look at him. She’d disabuse him of that notion right now! “You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t hinting. I really do walk in the park whenever I come shopping.” She stopped beside her car and pushed the button on her key to unlock the trunk.

“I believe you.” David smiled down at her. “And even if you were hinting, I wouldn’t have asked to join you unless I wanted to.” His smile spread into a slow grin that paralyzed her lungs. “I was going to call and tell you I’ve finished the piece about the center and the new grant, but this way I get to tell you in person. The piece will be in the paper this Saturday.”

“Wonderful! Professor Stiles will be so pleased.” Erin put her shopping bag into the trunk. All right, Mr. Carlson, message received! You can take your charming grin and leave any time now, so I can start breathing normally again.

“Aha! What’s this I see? A word game?” David picked up the box he’d moved aside to make room for the poster boards.

Erin nodded. “I play it with the children. You’d be surprised at how quickly a five-year-old can catch on to the concept of crosswords.” She busied herself tying the handles of the plastic bag together so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“I’ll bet you always win.”

“Well, of course I would if we played that way!” Erin shot David an annoyed look. What sort of teacher did he think she was pitting her wisdom against the children’s? He was grinning again. Hot blood swamped her cheeks. He’d been teasing her—and she’d risen to the bait. His grin widened when their gazes met and she went breathless again. Where was a paper bag when you needed one!

“How are you against someone your own age?”

“I beg your pardon?” He couldn’t mean—

“I challenge you to a game. Right here and now—on that table in the park.” David pointed. “But before you accept, remember—I’m a reporter. Words are my business. I never lose at word games.”

“Oh no?” Erin’s lungs started to function correctly. This she could handle! She smiled. “I believe you may have just opened yourself up for your first loss, Mr. Carlson.”

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Because I’ll be playing against you?” He reached out and gripped the trunk lid with his free hand.

Erin shook her head. “No. Because God’s word says, ‘Pride goeth before destruction,’ and that warning you gave me sounded suspiciously like pride to me.”

“I see.” David studied her for a moment, then gave the box he held a shake that rattled the tiles inside. “And I say, that you, Miss Kelly, do not know the difference between pride and certainty.”

“Really?” Erin tipped her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at him, relieved that, for whatever reason, his high-voltage grin had faded into a low-amp smile. “And I say, you’re ready to take a tumble, Mr. Carlson. I accept your challenge.”

“Good!” The trunk lid thudded down, emphasizing the word. “Have you eaten?”

Erin shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Do you like subs?”

She nodded. “Yes, but—”

“Great!” He handed her the box. “You set up the game, while I run across the street and get a couple of subs—my treat. What’s your pleasure?”

She stared at him a moment, then acquiesced. She was hungry. “A half ham and cheese—easy on the oil.”

“Soda to drink?”

Not since Mr. Gorseman had drugged hers. She suppressed a shudder and shook her head. “I’ll have coffee and a chocolate-chip cookie.”

David’s grin returned. “A woman after my own taste buds! Okay, you’ve got it.” He pivoted.

“Wait!” She gave him an apologetic smile when he turned back. “I forgot to tell you I want three creamers with the coffee.”

“Three!” David gave her a look of absolute horror. “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you a cup of milk and just have them toss a spoonful of coffee in it?”

She grinned at his teasing. “Don’t be a coffee snob, David. I happen to like it that way. Three creamers.”

He gave an exaggerated shudder. “All right. To each their own. But it’s sacrilege.”

Erin watched him jog across the road, then turned and headed for the picnic table, not quite certain what had just happened. David Carlson was too charming for her own good. He had breached her defensive walls. But one simple word game in a public park couldn’t hurt.

“Ah, I’ve got one—torose.” David laid down his tiles. “Now, with the s added to graze and on a double-word square that will be forty-four points.”

“Wait a minute!” Erin laughed and shook her head. “I’ve never heard of torose. Use it in a sentence.”

David raised his left eyebrow and gave her a diabolical grin. “Are you challenging me, Miss Kelly?”

She lifted both her hands into the air in a gesture of surrender. “I don’t dare challenge you, Mr. Carlson. I learned my lesson on retene.” She gave a little laugh that reminded him of water flowing swiftly over rocks in a creek bed. “This request is for my edification only.”

“In that case…” David made a manly effort to pull his thoughts back from Erin to the game. “The stem of many plants is torose in nature.” He grinned. “That’s knobby to the uninformed.”

“Another new word learned for me—and another forty-four points earned for you.” Erin gave a magnified sigh. “I can see if I ever want to win a game with you, I’m going to have to start reading the dictionary in my spare time.” She jerked her gaze to his. “That was just a comment. I wasn’t implying anything.”

“I didn’t think you were.” David scanned her face. Tension had drawn the muscles taut. He smiled. “But it wouldn’t bother me if you were. I always grant a rematch. It’s only fair. I like to be a gracious winner.”

His teasing had the desired effect. Erin visibly relaxed and began to study the board. David studied her. What was it about the woman that undermined his determination to stay away from her? She wasn’t tall and blond, or sophisticated and classically beautiful like the women he usually dated. Quite the opposite. She only came up to his chin. And right now, her dark-red hair was held up on the top of her head with one of those puffy fabric things Brandee wouldn’t be caught dead in, and those little bits of hair that had popped free were driving him crazy!

David’s fingers twitched. He pulled his gaze away from the errant tresses and took inventory of the rest of Erin’s face. She had a sort of pert little nose. And great cheekbones. And her mouth… His went dry. It was dangerous to look at Erin’s mouth. She wore no lipstick and her lips looked so soft and inviting—

“—be forty-two, thank you very much!”

David snapped back to attention. “I’m sorry?”

Erin pointed at the board. “Squat—on a triple-word square. That will be forty-two points please.”

No extra long, fashionably painted nails. Just a nice, neat manicure. David picked up his pen and added her score. “That makes you twenty-seven points behind me.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Not exactly a commanding lead for me.”

“Not exactly.”

Her answering grin took him like a fist in the stomach—again. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive many more such blows, but he couldn’t think of a nicer way to expire. He also couldn’t concentrate. He glanced at his tiles, then looked at the board. A drop of rain fell on the z in blaze and spattered across the checkered surface. Another fell. Then another.

“Uh-oh!” Erin reached for the box.

“I’ve got it.” David jumped to his feet, scooped the tiles into the box then folded the board and slapped it on top. By the time he got the cover on, Erin had shoved the residue of their impromptu picnic into the paper bag.

Rain pelted down.

“Come on!” David darted around the table, grabbed Erin’s free hand and ran toward the gazebo at the end of the path. When they arrived, his admiration for her took another giant leap upward. Her hair was wet, her clothes soaked and she was laughing. Brandee would have been screaming bloody murder! Not that she would have been playing a word game in the park in the first place. He felt a tug and lowered his gaze to their joined hands. He didn’t want to, but he let go.

Erin turned and dropped the bag into the trash can beside the steps. “Well that’s a first!” She shook her head, laughing as droplets of water flew everywhere. “I’ve never had a board game called because of rain.”

“Nor I.” David got lost somewhere in Erin’s dark green eyes. “We have to have a rematch now. I don’t want my reputation sullied by a questionable win.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Anytime, Mr. Carlson. Anytime!”

David’s hand clenched so hard the box popped. He put it down on the wide railing before he destroyed it.

“Where’d everyone go?” Erin glanced around. “Are we the only ones who took refuge here?”

David nodded. “I guess everyone else must have seen the rain coming and left.”

“Smart people.” She raised her hands and wrapped them about her bare upper arms. “I guess we were too involved in our game to notice the clouds rolling in.”

“I guess.” David frowned. She was shivering. “You’re cold. I’m sorry I don’t have a jacket to offer you, perhaps this will help.” He moved forward, folded his arms around her clasped ones and pulled her back against him. The moisture from the back of her sleeveless sweater penetrated his shirt front, momentarily cooling the skin on his chest. He took a breath, inhaling the suggestion of citrus that clung to her hair. His heart started thudding in time with the rain drumming on the roof. His grip tightened.

Erin went rigid, then shot from his grip like a bullet from a gun. He stared at her in astonishment.

“I’m all right now.” She wrapped her arms around herself again and turned to look out at the park. “Do you like rain? I’ve always loved it. When I was young I used to beg my mother to let me go outside and walk around the yard just so I could listen to it beating on my umbrella. I still go for walks in the rain. And, I suppose it’s silly, but I love to sit in a car when rain is pattering on the roof. Or on my back porch, so I hear it on the roof.”

She was nervous! She was chattering like a magpie. At such an innocuous touch? David didn’t know whether to be insulted or flattered. He put the debate aside until later. “I didn’t enjoy rainstorms as a kid. They interfered with playing ball. But I did like riding my bike through the mud puddles afterward.”

“Really?” Erin turned toward him. “And what did your mother think of that?”

He shook his head and leaned his shoulder against one of the roof support posts, blocking from his mind the feel of her in his arms. “My mom died when I was four years old.”

“How awful. I’m sorry, David. I’m sure that was terribly hard for you.”

The warmth and compassion in Erin’s eyes and voice stirred his heart. He nodded. “Thanks. But it was a long time ago. It’ll be twenty-four years next month.”

“Do you have a stepmom?”

David straightened and jammed his hands in his jeans pockets, uncomfortable with talking about his personal life. “Yes. My father…does a lot of traveling.” For God. Old anger snaked its way through him. “He met a woman overseas and remarried a few years later.”

“So you moved a lot as a child?”

She sounded less nervous. David shook his head and skirted around the fact that his father and the new wife hadn’t wanted him, because he would take time from their work for the Lord. “No. I lived with my grandmother and grandfather.” He pulled up a smile. “Grandpa was a terrific gardener, and Grandma baked the best cookies in ten counties. As a matter of fact, you can blame Grandpa for those words I used in the game. I wanted to be like him, so I took up botany in college.”

“Botany?” Those gorgeous eyes of hers widened in surprise. “How did you get from there to journalism?”

He shrugged. “One of my professors took me aside one day and told me I had an innate writing talent. He suggested I develop it and pursue fame and fortune as a journalist or writer. That sounded good to me, so I switched my major, and the rest, as they say, is history.” He smiled. “Except in my case, history is still in the making.”

“Now that’s the sort of a teacher every child should have. Not the kind who only put in their time and totally ignore the needs of their students! Not the kind who—” Erin clamped her lips together and walked to the railing.

She was shivering again. David stayed rooted in place. He wasn’t about to make the mistake of touching her again—no matter how innocent and altruistic his motives. “Sounds like you’ve had a bad experience with a teacher, Erin. Is that why you’re so passionate about the literacy center?”

“Yes. It is.”

He waited but she didn’t expand on her answer. She just stood there with her back toward him, staring out at the rain. Some emotion he felt but couldn’t identify emanated from her. Pain? Anger? Whatever it was, he wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but that avenue was closed to him. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for whatever happened to you, Erin. But if that experience is what motivated your passion for helping your students at the center, at least some good has come out of it.”

Her head lifted. She turned to look at him, then smiled. It felt as if someone had suddenly turned on the sun.

“Thank you, David.” Her smile widened. “You’re a very kind person—” she wrinkled her nose at him “—except when it comes to word games.”

That little wrinkle of her nose stirred more than his heart. David dragged in a breath of air and returned her smile. “Kindness isn’t in the rules.”

Erin laughed, then shifted her gaze to the roof. “Listen. The rain has stopped. We can go home and dry out.”

“I guess we can.” David picked up the game and followed Erin down the steps, wishing—for the first time in his life—the deluge had continued.

The rain had started again. Erin picked up her mug of hot cocoa, pushed open the back door and stepped out onto the porch. She was greeted by the steady drumming of raindrops on the roof overhead.

She took a deep breath, savoring the clean smell of the rain, then walked over to curl up in her favorite corner of the wicker couch. The cushion felt good against her bare feet. She snuggled them deeper into the softness and took a swallow of the cocoa, capturing one of the small marshmallows floating on top and letting its warm sweetness melt on her tongue.

If that experience is what motivated your passion for helping your students at the center, at least some good has come out of it.

Had her face revealed how startled she’d been by David’s statement? Not only by his sensitivity, but by the truth he’d expressed. Erin wrapped both hands around the warm mug and stared out into the night. She’d lived so long with the legacy of distrust, fear and anger that Mr. Gorseman’s attempted rape of her had caused, she’d never thought of the possibility of good coming from it. But it had. She’d become a teacher and a fierce advocate for the students at the literacy center because of it. And her mom and dad volunteered at the women’s rape and abuse shelter as a result of her experience. But that was all for the good of others.

Erin set her cup on the table, rose and walked to the top of the steps, wrapping her arms about herself and leaning back against the support post to watch the raindrops dancing on the wet bricks of the walk. What about her? What about her family? Where was the good for them? All she’d received was an inability to trust a man. Alayne had turned her back on God and was living in sin with a lying, cheating lothario. And her parents suffered because their oldest daughter was too ashamed of the life she lived to even speak to them, and their youngest daughter was too wary of men to ever fall in love.

No, nothing good had come to them from that experience.