She turned to Burke and whispered into his ear, "Did Nick play ball in Milwaukee?"
Burke looked at her as if he'd just realized that he was sitting beside her.
But she knew that wasn't true, couldn't be, not after that kiss last Saturday night. There had been no mistaking the kind of kiss it had been, the kind of kiss intended to melt her knees.
Suddenly, she wanted to shake Burke Sloan. Why was he acting like this? Maybe he couldn't forget it either. We need to talk about this, clear the air.
"Nick made the team the first three years," Burke replied at last, "but sat on the bench a lot last year because of poor attitude."
She nodded, biting back the question uppermost in her mind: Tell me why you kissed me.
Jayleen appeared in Keely's line of sight, walking hurriedly down from the vicinity where Keely had just seen Grady. Was he bothering her again? Keely looked down at the bench and noticed that Nick was no longer sitting there. What was he doing?
Earlier this week, a teacher had sent Grady out of the cafeteria to the office for "paying unwelcome attention to a female student." Keely had warned Grady that this school, like so many others, had zero tolerance of sexual harassment.
If it happened again, he'd be suspended. A third offense would put him in front of the board in an expulsion hearing. She'd also mentioned that it wasn't a charge he'd want on his record if he intended to get into college. As usual, she doubted he'd even listened to any of her words.
On top of everything else, Carrie's father Walachek was here watching the game. She'd seen the big man lumber up into the stands, but he hadn't talked to her or come near her. Still, he made her uneasy.
Keely pressed her temples. She tried to keep her mind on the game. The teams were tied once more. Then she saw Grady heading toward Jayleen again, and she uttered a barely audible groan. Why did he want to force her to reprimand him in front of his whole school, strangers from out of town, and most of the county? Did he think that he didn't have to behave here since he was a
Turner
?
A voice nearby, spoken just loud enough for her to hear said, "Everybody knows Turner bought his daughter her job, probably did it so his kid could graduate from somewhere."
Tears nipped at the back of her eyes. She'd known some people had been saying that behind her back. She'd known her father's influence had swayed some of the board members. But she'd taken the job, believing that no stranger could love her alma mater more than she did. Lord, I need backup here. Maybe I shouldn't have taken this job.
Behind them, Veda started yelling obscenities.
Keely tried to block out the words. Then Burke moved closer to her. A silent show of support? Keely wiped her moist eyes with her fingertips.
Both teams bumped up the intensity of play. The mood of the audience became more focused, more in concert with the teams. The scores inched up in lockstep. The large clock ticked time away. Two minutes remaining. When Shane fumbled a pass, an opponent claimed the ball and charged toward his team's goal. A LaFollette player tackled him. The stands roared.
Suddenly Keely's secretary, Freda, her face flushed and angry, appeared right beside Burke. "Ms. Turner, that brother of yours has been dogging the Kainz girl all night. Well, now he's got his arm around her. You can't see it from here, can you?"
Keely shook her head. How could she be simultaneously irritated at her brother and yet feel her concern for him increasing? She stood up. "Excuse me, Burke. I have to go take action against this."
He rose also. "I'll come with you."
Keely felt the knot at the base of her skull that announced a coming headache. She had read the story of the Prodigal Son in her morning devotions. Thoughts of Grady had rushed into her mind. Had the prodigal's older brother ever tried to reach his brother before he'd taken his inheritance and left? Had the older brother ever felt as powerless as she did?
Grady, haven't you spent one second thinking how this makes you look
? Grady was also doing this to make her look bad and to cause their parents to pressure her into letting him get away with it.
But I won't. Don't you know that? Do you care?
But Nick got to Grady--before she and Burke did.
Just as Keely reached Grady's side, Nick slammed his fist into Grady's nose. Blood spurted.
"Fight!" Veda shrieked with glee over the commotion of the game. "Fight!"
Burke shoved past Keely and grabbed his nephew before he could land a second punch. Seeing a chance, Grady rammed his head into Nick's abdomen. Burke thrust Grady backward against the bleachers. He stumbled, landed, but did not get up, the wind evidently knocked out of him.
On the field the game went on. The stands seethed and roiled with people shifting to get a look at the excitement. Shouts came from all around. "He knocked Grady down!"
"The new kid broke Turner's nose!"
Keely felt faint at the sudden violence. The blood. Some had spattered on her arm. She put her hand to her forehead.
Burke let go of Nick and grasped her shoulders. "Put your head down. You're white as a sheet."
She obeyed and the lightheadedness receded immediately. Ashamed of her moment of weakness, she looked up, trying to decide how to get everyone to sit down. The crowd had pushed forward to see the action, and she felt mobbed. She looked to Burke.
"Get back!" he ordered. "Everyone, back to your seats! Or I'll start picking people up for public disturbance. Back!"
His final word—a roar—turned the throng back. Teens and adults alike gave way before his stern face and forbidding tone. Keely stayed at his side, pulling herself together to confront Nick and her brother.
"Fire! Fire!" Shouts came from out of nowhere. "Fires in the parking lot!"
Shock ripped through Keely. She glanced at Burke and read her own shock in his eyes. What now!
Burke stood in the now quiet parking lot, watching the fire crew wrap things up. They'd put out the fires. The crowd had dispersed, but the heavy smell of smoke still hung in the cool, dark night.
Burke looked around him at the nearly empty parking lot. After all the tension and chaos of this evening, he was restless and edgy. He was waiting to consult with Keely. And the topic wasn't going to be a pleasant one, the second fire in two weeks on school property.
Keely had gone into her office to get her purse. The main entrance door opened then. He saw Keely emerge and was aware the second she caught sight of him waiting for her. Her glance sent an electrical charge through him.
He'd stayed away from her all week. Tonight he'd been caught on the horns of conflict. He'd dreaded sitting beside her; he'd exulted in being near her again.
She halted, gazing at him intently. "Is there anything else wrong?" She then moved forward quickly.
The sight of her hesitance wrung his heart. She didn't deserve what happened tonight. She was a good principal. And she's too good for me and that has nothing to do with money. He stood straighter to be strong for her though the weight of past regret he carried dragged at him. "Nothings wrong ...nothing new," he amended. "We need to talk."
When she reached him, he felt that unexplainable pull toward her. Yet who wouldn't be drawn to such a gutsy woman? How did she keep it all together and do such a great job? And with her brother making so much of the trouble? She was definitely out of his league.
"Do you have time to talk?" he asked, trying not to let her see how he wanted to drink in the sight of her. The sudden stillness around them swelled in his ears. The fall night had cooled and the crickets were silent.
She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Of course. What ...where do you want to go?" She fumbled in her bag for her keys.
He'd already given that some thought. He needed some place where he and she could talk without alerting the gossip grapevine. That much he'd learned. "I thought we'd have a snack at the truck stop out on 27. You wouldn't have far to drive home then." The thought of eating didn't appeal to him. But he knew he needed hot food to make it through the final hours of his night shift.
She still hesitated.
Then it hit him. He'd asked this classy lady to go with him to a truck stop of all places. "Sorry-."
"All right," she said, her teeth crimping her lower lip. "It's really the only place open this late."
He gave her an apologetic nod. "See you there."
Under the glaring lights of the busy truck stop, Burke waited for Keely beside his car door. His eyes adjusted to the brightly lit oasis in the clear October darkness. Exhausted but keyed up, he wanted to go home and sleep, put an end to the long day, but he needed to prepare Keely for an unpleasant development.
"I know," Burke apologized as she approached him, "this isn't the country club, but--"
"This is fine. I've eaten here before."
As Burke led her inside toward a padded booth in the rear of the restaurant, he was bombarded by the scent of fried chicken All eyes turned to them. He'd miscalculated. They weren't the only ones ending the after-game evening here.
As they walked down a gauntlet of parallel booths, he caught a few whispered comments: "his nephew ...firecrackers . . ."
"...Turner's kid ...jerk . . ."
"...didn't need a kid from Milwaukee causing trouble . . ."
So the next wave of talk about Grady and Nick had taken off. The fight and fires would be served up as the latest gossip all over the county for breakfast tomorrow, along with his being seen here with Keely.
They sat down facing each other. After a greeting, a harried waitress wiped their cleared table and brought them water and menus.
Burke wished he could think of something to say, something that would lighten the gloom, shadowing Keely's lovely face. Instead, he stared at the green vinyl menu. Sudden hunger attacked him. "What do you recommend?"
"I usually have," she replied from behind her menu, "burgers and fries, and please no comments about my cholesterol level." A trace of her characteristic wry humor sounded in her voice.
It eased his tension a notch.
The white-aproned waitress rejoined them. Keely and he ordered, and the waitress left them, promising to return with freshly brewed decaf coffee and cream.
Burke concentrated on looking calm. He'd learned over the years that this made it easier to deal with any problem. "We have to discuss the fires." He kept his voice and manner businesslike.
Keely looked down at the table. propping an elbow there. "I have a hard time believing everything that happened tonight really happened. Veda, Grady, Nick." She sighed and rested her head into one hand.
He nodded, listening to the raucous country and western ballad playing in the background, a counterpoint to the somber pall that hung over their booth. "I'm afraid we may have a serial fire setter on our hands."
She looked up, her brows lifted. "What do you mean?"
"I could be wrong, but I was afraid that the first fire might spark this kind of behavior."
"I'm not following you, Burke."
He sucked in air. "Sorry. I guess I'm tired. Hard to marshal my facts. My shift ends in an hour, and I think my brain is shutting down." And being alone with you isn't helping me concentrate.
"Take your time."
"Okay." Making himself focus on the facts and not on the way her hair was slipping out of her topknot, he tightened his mouth. "That first fire was a crime of opportunity. Couldn't have been planned unless the custodian was in on it, and we know he wasn't."
"Yes."
"But there's always a chance—" his jaw clenched—"when a kid who has problems sets a fire for revenge or just to cause trouble, it can trigger ...excitement, a thrill, a rush. And a fire gets them more attention. And that's what they wanted in the first place. Then it can become an addiction."
She gazed at him. "That's not good to hear."
Being so near her all evening was lowering his resistance to her, more and more. "Not good at all." He shook his head. "And that's an understatement."
"Did you get any evidence?" Her hair slipped farther. Then the topknot gave way, and her hair flowed down onto one shoulder.
"I think so."
"Well?" she prompted, reaching up and releasing the derelict clips that had failed her. "Sorry," she murmured and ran her fingers through her hair.
Fighting the urge to reach over and touch the spun gold in her hair, he pulled a short, blackened metal wire from his uniform jacket and handed it to her.
She took it, turned it over, peering at it in the garish lighting of the truck stop. "What is it?"
"We think it was a sparkler." He swallowed to moisten his dry mouth.
"What?"
"One of the firefighters recognized it. It's what's left of a sparkler." Farther forward in the restaurant, a couple slid out of their booth. Both tried to get a good look at Keely and Burke but hide it at the same time. Their expression made him feel how he didn't belong here with this classy woman.
"Like a Fourth of July sparkler?" she asked, disbelief coloring her tone.
He nodded.
"Is this evidence? Should I be touching it?"
"No, fingerprints aren't possible."
She let out a sigh. "Did anyone see someone burning sparklers before the game?"
He heard the continued skepticism in her voice. "No, the firefighter told me he's seen this before. Kids drop sparklers they think are burned out into the trash, and hours later the trash bin explodes into flames. That's why you're supposed to dispose of sparklers in a can. They get so hot that they hold enough heat to ignite paper if the conditions are right."
She frowned. "You know I think I've heard of something like that before."
Intruding, the waitress brought their bowls of soup.
After a cautious sip of his hot, salty soup, Burke forced himself to return to the topic at hand. But looking up, he watched Keely slide her hair behind one ear. The sight melted his resistance. Being here with Keely again was making him forget his life as it had been and must stay. He couldn't let himself fall under Keely's spell of honesty and compassion. His proven inability to take the responsibility to love, stretched between them. I can't give her what she needs, what she deserves.