The Lawman's Holiday Wish

“Is she disruptive?”

“No.”

“Annoying others?”

“No. Just...off in her own little world.”

“So she’s having adjustment problems in a new setting, and with a whole new set of expectations from strangers. That sounds fairly normal for a five-year-old.” Rainey might not be licensed to teach, but Sonya’s difficulties didn’t seem out of the ordinary for her first month in school.

“Rainey, I think that sums it up quite well,” Mr. O’Mara said. His tone said he didn’t find the child’s prognosis worrisome. “And I think Sonya will do fine once she gets over her shyness and her fear. But I needed you to hear Miss Patterson’s concerns firsthand.”

“Which I appreciate, Mr. O’Mara. And now, what about Dorrie?” She turned to Mrs. Loughlin, and her hopes plummeted as she read the negative look on the older woman’s face.

Mrs. Loughlin wasn’t a bad person. Her son had wanted to date Rainey in high school and his mother had been against it. Rainey didn’t blame her. Staying away from Rainey’s crowd had been in his best interests.

Now she wished people could see the new and improved woman she’d become. She’d returned to Kirkwood Lake determined to set the record straight. What did she have to show for her first two months? She’d messed up her daughters and eroded the dairy’s customer base, and with the all-important end-of-year sales approaching, she needed to find some way to fix things.

Fast.

“They may look alike, but Dorrie is quite different from her sister in many ways. I’m sure you’ve noticed that, Mrs. Loughlin.”

The teacher listed Dorrie’s negative attributes first, which raised the principal’s brow. “She’s tough, bossy, opinionated, and would take over the class in a heartbeat if I let her.”

That sure sounded like Dorrie. Rainey met Mr. O’Mara’s gaze. “And how is this being handled in school?”

Mrs. Loughlin cut in before he had a chance to respond. “I’ve tried cautions, both verbal and physical. You know, a hand on her shoulder, a warning to slow down and wait her turn. I’ve employed studious ignoring, quiet reminders, and I’m thinking of setting up a sticker program to see if that helps the situation.”

“A sticker program?” Rainey repeated. “A reward program, you mean. Stickers for good behavior.”

“A move like that can be beneficial to all concerned.”

Rainey breathed deeply, considering.

They’d called her on the carpet because one girl was quiet and sad about being separated from her twin, while the other was being a rambunctious, noisy twit.

And they’d drawn Rainey in to let her know they wanted to do a sticker reward program to help encourage good behavior? Or to make the point that her kids were apples that hadn’t fallen far from the tree?

Yes, the girls needed to behave. They needed to learn. But they were only three weeks into the year.

Luke’s words came back to her. He’d said he’d readdress the issues at conference time in November if they still existed. Well, that sounded good to her. “I will be happy to do whatever it takes to reinforce their good behavior in school and at home. Their education is very important to us. And then we can meet again at their scheduled conference in November to reevaluate.”

“Us?” Miss Patterson asked doubtfully. She exchanged a not-so-furtive look with Mrs. Loughlin, and in that moment, Rainey knew she’d never convince these women of her change of heart.

She cleared her throat, mustered a smile and stood. “My family. The McKinneys. We’ll work together to help the girls.”

“Wonderful.” Mr. O’Mara stood and extended his hand. “I knew we could count on you, Rainey.”

His words blessed her. His countenance, too. And the flat look he leveled in the teachers’ direction meant he wasn’t thrilled with how the meeting had gone, but it wasn’t Rainey’s behavior that disturbed him.

It was theirs.

Rainey thanked them, pushed through the heavy, plate-glass door of his office and wound her way back to the front. Bottled energy surged forth now that the meeting was over.

Her heart raced. She had an urge to punch someone, but common sense drew her up short. She knew she’d changed. Others didn’t, so she shouldn’t blame them for living in the ashes of a past best forgotten.

And her heart tipped straight into warp factor when she stepped outside on this beautiful fall day and saw Luke Campbell waiting for her, just as he’d said.

Only she hadn’t believed him. Or even thought of it again until just now, but there he was, heading her way. He raised a hand to his forehead, shading bright blue eyes from the glare of the late-afternoon sun. Short, blond hair edged his deputy’s cap. Broad-shouldered, square-jawed, he looked like a modern-day Celtic warrior.

“You survived.” He ambled forward, not appearing too happy. But something in his face—an expression that said he understood what she’d just endured and wanted to help—softened the rapid beat of her heart. The spike in her pulse. The knot of dread that formed in her gut every time someone peered at her and saw the old Rainey...

“Alive, but not unscathed.”

The glint in his eyes said he reciprocated the feeling.

“You waited for me.”

“I said I would.” He flicked a glance at the school, reminding her of his promise inside. “And I’m a man of my word.”

“Why did you wait?”

He fell into step alongside her. “I could tell Miss Patterson was spoiling for a fight. She’ll go easy on me because her younger sister is married to my uncle. I was afraid she might take it out on you.”

“Pretty unprofessional.”

Luke took three long steps before answering. “She lost her parents this past year. I know she’s been struggling. My aunt thought she should take a leave of absence, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Keeping busy might be good for her, but I’m not sure it’s in the best interests of her students.”

What a conundrum. Still, the deputy was right. The kids should always come first. But who was Rainey to judge? She had a host of grave mistakes on her record already. She turned his way as they reached their cars. “We’ll give her time.”

The deputy didn’t look convinced. “I don’t offer a lot of leeway when I’m talking about my kid.”

Add protective and loving to crazy good-looking and a pulse-stopping smile.

Add nothing. He’s a cop. You’re an ex-con. Even with your record expunged, you did time. And then you left your girls.

She had. She knew that. But she’d returned, determined to make things right. At the moment, she wasn’t sure if her return was selfless or self-motivated but that was her personal dragon to slay. “Ex-cons don’t get much leeway, either.”

To his credit, he didn’t pretend otherwise. “True.”

“Life might not offer do-overs, but everyone deserves a second chance.” She aimed her gaze up to his. “Don’t they?”

His face said maybe. Maybe not. From a cop’s perspective, his reluctance to agree made sense. From hers?

His reticence was another chunk in a well-built wall. A wall she needed to scale or break down, one brick at a time. She looked beyond him to the terraced village leading down to the water’s edge. Yellowing foliage blocked the shoreline view. Once the leaves turned completely, they’d fall. The holiday season would be at hand, her first Thanksgiving and Christmas with her girls in years. That was enough, wasn’t it?

Unless you shouldn’t have come back at all. The insidious whisper crawled up from somewhere deep within. The girls are struggling and your effect on the family business may prove disastrous. Who exactly are you helping by your presence in Kirkwood?

Her hands went cool and clammy. A shiver that had nothing to do with the fall weather crept up her spine. “My decision to come home—to fix things—might be more a detriment than a help,” she admitted. “And that’s the reality I wake up to each morning these days.” She turned and moved toward her mother’s car, knowing her past limited her future, but those do-overs she talked about? The ones that weren’t possible?