Consequences

“I’m afraid we’ll do nothing of the sort.” She gave him a cold, dismissive glance designed to chill any man right to the bone. “I’ll call you if I decide to offer you the job, Mr. Whitley.”

Jim responded with another sunny grin and tipped his hat at her, then moved toward the door.

“Mr. Whitley,” she said behind him.

“Yes, ma’am?” He paused and turned.

“Which is it this time?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You said you tended to stop traveling and teach school for a year whenever you felt lazy or had been injured. I wondered which of those might be the case at this moment.”

“I got a real nasty groin pull at the Mesquite rodeo last month when I was thrown from a bareback bronc. Couldn’t walk for two weeks, and it still hurts a lot. I won’t be in serious competitive shape again for months, probably not until spring.”

“Oh.”

Her glance dropped involuntarily to the crotch of his jeans, and his grin broadened when he saw the way her face turned bright pink with embarrassment.

“It’s getting a lot better,” he said, trying to keep his voice sober. “As my prospective employer, you’ll be glad to know my injury doesn’t interfere with any important activities.”

Her flush deepened. “Good day, Mr. Whitley,” she said coldly, looking away from his teasing smile. “I’ll call you as soon as I’ve spoken with the school board and reached a decision.”

“Thanks. I’ll be waiting.” He let himself out of the office and strolled through the halls of the school to his truck, whistling softly.

JIM SAT at the McKinney dinner table a few nights later, enjoying the warm ebb and flow of family conversation. Both Cal and his brother, Tyler, had brought their families to J.T.’s home for dinner, and the laughter of young children seemed to fill the big house.

J. T. McKinney was in his element, presiding at the head of the table. As long as Jim had known him, the lean handsome rancher had been the heart and soul of Crystal Creek, the man they all looked up to and depended on.

About seven years ago J.T. had suffered a scary heart attack, but his new young wife was taking great care of him and nowadays he looked as tanned and fit as ever.

Not that Cynthia McKinney was either new, or all that young anymore.

Jim smiled at his beautiful blond hostess across the table. Though not much older than her husband’s adult children, Cynthia had been married to J.T. for almost a decade and was in her mid-forties now, with a six-year-old daughter of her own. Jennifer was about the same age as J.T.’s lively brood of grandkids.

Life at the Double C ranch was warm, happy and busy, full of family love and closeness. Sometimes being here made Jim feel a little wistful.

He didn’t regret his years of travel and the things he’d seen and done. But there were moments when he found himself thinking about everything he was missing.

“Jim, how did your interview go?” Cynthia asked.

“Just fine, thanks.” He took a sip of fine Double C cabernet, made right here at the McKinney winery. “I think I’ve probably got the job, so I’ll be clearing out of your guest house soon.”

“What job is that?” Cal’s wife, Serena, frowned at one of her twin sons who was sitting on the floor near her chair, trying to insert a whole stuffed toy into his mouth.

“Jim’s applying for the vacant teaching job at the middle school,” Cynthia told the group. “He went to see Lucia Osborne on Monday.”

Cal shuddered dramatically and punched his friend’s shoulder. “The Ice Lady? Poor ol’ Jim. That’s one chilly woman, you know. I could never warm her up, and God knows I tried.”

His pretty wife glared at him, making Cal throw back his head and laugh aloud.

“It was way before I married you, darlin’,” he assured Serena solemnly. “Back in the dark days of my youth.” Still grinning, he kissed her lustily in front of everybody.

The table erupted in laughter while J.T. helped himself to another slice of lean roast beef under his wife’s watchful eye.

“I’ve been hearing down at the Longhorn,” he said casually, “that Lucia Osborne might have more to worry about than hiring some broken-down rodeo cowboy to teach in her school.”

“What else has she got to worry about?” Tyler’s wife asked, looking a little harried. Autumn was a busy time at the winery, and much of its operation was Ruth’s responsibility. “Lucia Osborne’s got no kids, no husband, no house to look after…”

“And soon she may have no job, either.” J.T. poured a dribble of gravy on his beef, then smiled apologetically at his wife, who shook her head with gentle reproof.

“No job?” Cal asked. “What’s that all about, Daddy? I thought Lucia was doing a great job at that school.”

“She is, but it seems she’s made some enemies around town. And one of them,” he added grimly, “is that damn Gloria Wall.”

“Gloria Wall is a small-minded, hypocritical troublemaker,” Ruth said firmly, surprising everyone. Tyler’s gentle wife didn’t normally make such harsh pronouncements.

“Well, Ruthie,” Tyler said, grinning at her. “Now, honey, what brought that on?”

Ruth looked down at her plate. “I just don’t like the woman. Remember back when we first started selling our wine, and Gloria got it into her head that we were getting uppity or something? She spread rumors all over the Hill Country that McKinney wine was made with musty grapes and could cause disease. It cut into our sales a whole lot the first year. I could never believe you all were so casual about it.”

“California girls tend to hold grudges,” Tyler told the group around the table, hugging his wife fondly. “Now, in Texas, if somebody does us wrong, we either shoot him or forget him.”

Ruth chuckled and disengaged herself to go feed her newest baby, now squalling faintly from his bassinet in the morning room.

Jim thought about the druggist’s wife. “How can Gloria Wall do any harm to Lucia Osborne?” he asked.

“Those two women don’t like each other,” J.T. said. “Never have, as far as I can tell, though I don’t rightly know why.”

“It’s because Lucia’s so beautiful,” Serena said, “and so classy. The way she dresses and carries herself, she probably makes Gloria feel like poor white trash. But I’m sure Lucia’s not even aware of the effect she has on people.”

“I still don’t see how…” Jim began.

“Gloria’s the chairwoman of the school board,” J.T. told his guest. “And the word around town is that she’s pushing the board to close the middle school next year and bus the kids over to Holly Grove.”

Cynthia looked up in alarm at her husband. “Close our middle school? J.T., that’s preposterous.”

“Gloria Wall is a preposterous woman,” J.T. said grimly. “But she’ll still get lots of support for this crack-brained idea. The town’s been failing in recent years, lots of folks moving to the city. It makes for a heavy tax burden on the ones who stay behind.”

“And if you tell folks they can cut their taxes by getting rid of a school, they’ll go along with it?” Serena asked in disbelief.

“Damn right they will,” Cal told his wife.

Cynthia shook her head, looking troubled. “Oh, dear,” she said. “There’s going to be a terrible fight in town over this. Will we even have a chance to vote on it before they close the school?”

“From what I hear, the school board is planning to take it to plebiscite in the spring,” J.T. said.

“After Gloria’s had time to poison the minds of everybody in the county,” Tyler added bitterly.