Читать книгу A Small-Town Girl - Shelley Galloway - Страница 10

Cary wrote the last of the theorem on the whiteboard, then turned to face his class. “Don’t forget to refer to these notes when you do page one hundred fifty-six for homework.”

As expected, groans erupted across the room. There was a big pep rally planned for the afternoon as the basketball team was now two games away from making the district finals. Glancing at the clock, he feigned surprise. “Would you look at that? I must have miscalculated the time. We still have fifteen minutes of class. Some of you might be able to get the majority of the assignment done before the bell.”

Almost simultaneously, twenty pencils hit the desks. Well, twenty pencils except for the one belonging to Amy Blythe, the curly-haired blonde in the front row. “I don’t think you know how to miscalculate, Mr. Hudson.”

Because he was no actor, Cary merely smiled and motioned to the clock over the whiteboard. “There’s thirteen minutes left of class, Amy.”

Taking the hint, she, too, buried her face in the math book. Cary used the time to erase the board for the following day, then take a quick tour of the room to make sure everyone was on the right page. He’d learned his first year that just because he was on task it didn’t mean all his students were.

As he nodded, pointed to correct answers and high-fived the kids who finished, he thought again about something that was the complete opposite of math and equations—Genevieve Slate. The cop. Total brunette perfection. He’d been mesmerized the moment she’d tromped out of the pet store, full of determination.

She’d been all business and grit. Though not really. There’d been a flash of vulnerability in her blue eyes, as if someone had hurt her. He knew the feeling well.

Sitting on the edge of his desk, he waited for the last three minutes of class to tick by.

One of the boys near the front caught his eye. “Mr. Hudson, you going to the game?”

“Of course.”

In the back row, Ben Schultz raised his head. “I heard Jamestown’s pretty good. I hope we’ll have a chance.”

Cary hid a smile. Until recently, Ben had only paid attention to computers and science labs. It looked as if everyone—teachers, students and townsfolk—was rallying behind the Lions. “Brian McCullough’s pretty good, too,” he said, referring to their team’s star forward.

“He’s better than that, Mr. Hudson,” Amy chimed in. “College scouts have been to the last four games. I heard he’s about to get offered a scholarship to Ohio State.”

“You know more than I do. I hope he gets it.”

“Amy likes him,” Jeremy called out snidely. “Too bad he’s dating Melissa.”

Cary wisely said nothing. Amy lived down his street, and Melissa was his niece.

“Everyone likes Brian McCullough,” Amy retorted, though her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

A couple more books closed just as the bell rang.

“Thanks, Mr. Hudson,” a few kids called out as they ran out the door.

“No problem. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tonight,” Jeremy corrected with a grin.

“That’s right. I’ll see you tonight.”

One by one they filed out, leaving the room empty in seconds. Cary wandered back to his desk and sat down just as his best friend, Dave Fanning, strode in.

“Want to grab a burger before the game?”

“Sure, but I have to run home first and take care of Sludge.”

Dave scowled. “How is that crazed dog?”

“Great.”

“He tore up my new pair of loafers last time I was at your place.”

“You’ve been warned. All shoes are fair game if they’re not on someone’s feet.”

“Why didn’t you get a Lab like most normal people? I’ve never heard of a Labrador having a wool-and-shoe fetish.”

“No Labs at the pound.”

“Just psycho beagles.”

“He’s only three-quarters beagle. The rest is a mystery.”

“I’d bet money he’s one-fourth rottweiler.” After nodding to another teacher who walked by, Dave directed a look Cary’s way. “So have you signed next year’s contract yet?”

“Nope.”

“It’s due by next Friday.”

“I’ll make my decision by then.”

Dave leaned against the doorjamb. A parade of noisy kids passed behind him. “Why are you waiting? Is it because of Kate? She’s moved on, you know. What was between you two is history.”

“This next contract is for three years. I just want to make sure this is where I want to be.”

“You’ve lived here all your life. Where else would you want to be?”

Nowhere, but was he ready to decide that there was no other place he wanted to be than Lane’s End? “I’ll probably sign it. I’m just not in a hurry this year. And, Dave, I don’t care that Kate is dating Michael Kent.” The ass.

“He deserves her,” Dave scoffed, making no effort to hide his feelings for either of them. “But, for your information, Michael has just had his second interview in Lakota.”

Lakota was a large and steadily growing district to the west.

That was news. “Really?”

“He wants a principalship. No way is he going to get one around here anytime soon.”

Cary knew that to be true. Lane’s End had just two elementary schools, one junior high and one high school. It was small town all the way. The only time administrators left their positions was when they died or retired, and Evan Miller, the principal of Lane’s End, was years away from either. “When’s he supposed to hear something?”

“Any day.”

“Thanks for the update.”

“So…food?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll meet you at the Cheyenne Shack in about an hour.”

Dave grinned. “Good.” He looked as though he was about to say more when Melissa stuck her head in.

“Uncle Cary, you still going to the game tonight?”

“Yep. You cheering tonight?”

Melissa laughed. “Of course. See you there.”

Cary raised a hand in goodbye as she flashed him a smile before disappearing.

“You’ve got to stay at LEHS,” Dave said when they were alone again. “The whole student body loves you. You’re the most popular teacher on campus.”

“Pretty impressive for a math geek, huh?”

Since he and Dave had known each other since their own high school days and had even roomed together in college, his friend rolled his eyes. “Too impressive for you,” he retorted. “See you at the Shack.”

“GIVE ME AN L! GIVE me an A! Give me an N!” a peppy blonde with the loudest voice in the world screamed to the filled-to-capacity gymnasium. Obediently the crowd called out the letters in unison, most waving black-and-gold pom-poms.

“This is giving me a headache,” Gen told Sam Clark as they passed the exuberant cheerleaders and made their way up the stands. “I can’t believe you conned me into coming.”

“Conned you? This is the biggest thing going tonight. Lane’s End’s basketball team hasn’t done this well in years. If we win tonight and the next game, we’re in the play-offs.”

“I know. I’m excited for the kids, too. And the whole town. It’s just a little overwhelming.”

“For you?” Sam looked surprised. “And here I thought our newest member of the force was invincible.”

Gen laughed at Sam’s exaggeration. Sam was one of the few members of the force who hadn’t closed ranks against the new female officer. Instead he’d done his best to be available for all of her questions. They’d hit it off so well, when he’d asked if she wanted a lift to the game, she’d said yes. Sam’s girlfriend, Meagan, lived in Dayton, so he was a perfect date for Gen—a friend who wasn’t interested in anything more.

Sliding down the bleacher, Gen said, “I have to admit I would have been perfectly okay hearing all about it in the paper tomorrow.”

“Not half as fun. Besides, think of this as your civic duty. Half the town is here,” Sam said as they claimed one of the last empty spots. “It’s a great time to meet new people and socialize. Before you know it, you’ll feel like you’re a part of the community.”

Gen doubted it would be easy. She’d always felt a little apart from everyone, but the distance was almost comfortable. It was a lot easier to depend on herself than on other people.

As a cheerleader dressed in a furry Lions costume appeared and everyone went nuts, Gen figured Sam had been right. It did seem as if half the populace was crammed into the high school gym. As she scanned the crowd, Gen recognized a few of the faces. There was the chief of police. The mayor. Her new vet. Cary Hudson.

Her pulse sped up as she spied him smiling at a mom and two toddlers.

Surprised at her reaction, Gen tamped it down with effort. Of course Cary was there. Hadn’t he admitted how excited he was about the play-offs? Besides, some of his students were probably on the team.

Narrowing her eyes, she had to admit he looked just as handsome from across a gym floor as he had sitting across a table from her. A sharp feeling of regret stabbed deep as Gen realized she should’ve asked for his number or passed on her e-mail address.

Though by the looks of things, it didn’t seem as if he needed another friend. No, the guy was swamped with attention, talking to five or six people at the same time. Two men about his age sat on one side of him; high school kids flanked his right side. Genevieve couldn’t resist grinning. Dressed in a black long-sleeved T-shirt, he looked relaxed and happy.

She was just about to turn away when he glanced across the sea of people and caught her eye. When he raised a hand in greeting, she did the same.

“Who are you waving at?” Sam asked.

“The guy in the long-sleeved black shirt. Cary Hudson. He’s a math teacher here.”

“I know Cary,” Sam said.

“How do you know him?”

Sam shrugged. “This is Lane’s End, remember? My sister used to date his brother. Cary’s a nice guy.”

“He sure looks popular.”

“He is, I guess. Cary’s one of those people who just seems content, you know? Never seen him flustered.” Sam nodded to a couple sitting two rows down before continuing. “His dad was a minister. Did you know that?”

“No. I just met him the other day.”

“Well, Paul Hudson was pastor at the Church of Christ for almost three decades before he passed away. Cary’s brother, Dean, is a financial advisor. He and his daughter, Melissa, live right next door to Cary in their parents’ old house.”

“That’s pretty unusual, two brothers living side by side.”

Sam nodded. “From what I’ve been told, it works out well. Dean’s wife took off when Melissa was just a baby, so Cary watched her during summer breaks.”

Gen wished she had that kind of close relationship with Margaret. But more distanced them than miles. For most of her life, Gen had been career-oriented, doing her best to achieve recognition as a cop, while Meg was a wife and mother to three kids. It was what Meg had always wanted since getting her first doll. Those goals had seemed to divide them. Gen wondered if they could ever find common ground.

Gen peeked over at Cary again, but he was gone. Curious, she scanned the crowd, but it was hard to find anything in the sea of black and gold.

Then she spied him walking toward her up the narrow passage in between the rows of bleachers. As he approached, her stomach clenched. The feeling was awkwardly familiar—she’d felt the same way standing outside her captain’s office.

Cary, on the other hand, looked as though he had no such qualms at all. He was working the crowd like a seasoned politician, greeting everyone by name, shaking hands, joking with a crowd of boys who’d sprayed their hair bright yellow for the game.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Sam murmured.

“Yeah. Speak of the devil.”

“Hey, Sam. Hey, Gen.” Pointing to the Lane’s End Lions sweatshirt Sam had given her, he said, “Looks like you’ve finally caught the fever, too.”

“I’ve caught something,” she murmured just as Sam trotted down the bleachers to “socialize,” leaving his spot to Cary.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“Not at all.” Eyeing some kids eating candy bars two rows down, she said, “I was just sitting here, wondering if I needed to get myself a Snickers bar.”

He laughed as he sat down next to her. “I’d offer you one, but all I’ve got is a pack of Big Red.”

“You offering?”

Pulling out a stick of gum, he placed it in her hand. “Of course. I’d never refuse a cop.”

The light flirtation made Gen smile. That it centered around her penchant for junk food kept things nice and easy. “I knew you were as smart as you looked,” she teased.

“I’m smarter,” he countered, unwrapping a piece for himself.

As the crowd roared again, Gen popped the gum in her mouth and told herself that there was nothing brewing between her and Cary Hudson. Nothing more than friendship.

Yeah, right.