Bayview Heights Trilogy (41 page)

Time and circumstance froze. She was no
longer his nemesis at the paper, not the sister of a boy he’d been
unable to save. She was only a woman—all woman.

He longed to kiss her, to take those full
breasts into his hands, his mouth. He looked into her eyes. Desire
was there, too. He might have done something about it if he hadn’t
also seen the fear.

It sobered him, made him draw back and stand
abruptly.

No words were spoken as she stood, too. She
didn’t even look at him before she headed for her car. He let her
go alone, not trusting himself near her. She didn’t look back,
either, thank God, because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if she did
turn to him, and bathe him with that whiskey-colored gaze that
said, “I feel it, too.”

o0o

AS SETH MANEUVERED the roads to the Franklin
Street Day Care Center a few days later, he wondered if seeing
Lacey Cartwright would be as awkward today as it had been at their
last two meetings. Though he’d never felt comfortable around her,
he was downright edgy since the night they’d jumped into the leaves
together. Since the night he hadn’t kissed her.

He pounded his hand on the steering wheel.
Damn. How had he gotten himself into this mess?

She’s a beauty, that’s how. Inside and
out.

He could still see Lacey laughing as the fall
leaves speckled her hair and clothing. It had been a deep, sexy
sound that made him want to hear it again, under far different
circumstances.

At the second Good Deeds meeting the
following Monday, she hadn’t been laughing. She’d been scowling as
he told the group he could only get five hundred dollars out of the
budget for the day-care project.

He’d lied about the money’s source—he’d
donated it himself. It wasn’t enough to pay for toys and the small
party for the kids, but it was all he could afford. Apparently,
Lacey didn’t think it was enough, either, because she’d reached
into her purse, grabbed a checkbook and wrote out a check. “The
Herald
will match those funds,” she’d said calmly.

“All right!” Darcy McCormick cheered, raising
her hand for a high five. Lacey slapped it good-naturedly.

When the meeting was over, Seth snagged
Lacey’s arm after the kids left and she tried to run out. “Wait a
minute. This check is a personal one, not a business one.”

She stammered, “I...um...I don’t carry the
business checkbook with me. I’ll transfer the funds.”

“I don’t believe you,” he told her.

“Pardon me?”

“I think this money is from you.”

“Now, why would you think that?” She cocked
her head. “Where did the first five hundred come from, Mr.
Taylor?”

“The school budget.”

“Uh-huh.” He knew he was starting to flush so
he stared down at the table as he got his belongings together. When
he glanced back up at her, she said. “See you tonight, Santa,” and
left.

She read me far too easily
, he
thought, as he turned the corner onto Franklin Street. He didn’t
like it at all.

o0o

LACEY SAW Seth exit his car and head toward
the day-care entrance. She tried to keep her gaze away from his
long, purposeful strides, from the way the wind whipped his hair
off his face. She groaned and put her head down on the steering
wheel to avoid watching him.

This was a disaster. Attraction to this man
spelled trouble loud and clear. For a minute she allowed the anger
to surface. How
could
this have happened?

All right, she told herself, so she was
attracted to him. She liked his looks, the way he carried himself;
she admired his ease with the students, how he handled adults; and
she respected his utter selflessness in his job. That didn’t alter
the fact that he was responsible for Kevin being in jail. She could
use that reminder to keep her distance—even if it didn’t quite ring
true anymore. Because she had to keep her distance. A clear,
painful image of her grandfather’s face when she’d refused to kill
the Good Deeds article assaulted her. For Philip’s sake, she had to
stay away from Seth.

She’d used her loyalty to Philip to steel
herself against Seth the previous Monday, when they’d spent time
together on two committees. She’d been all right in the afternoon,
but the task force meeting had been tough.

When she’d presented the information she’d
found on the Internet on student shared decision making, the look
of soft approval on Seth’s face made her stomach somersault. “You
checked the Internet for our subcommittee?” he asked.

“No big deal. I just went on-line, did a
search and came up with this. I don’t think all of it’s usable,
though.” She handed a copy to each student and one to Seth.

After perusing it, Darcy spoke first. “I like
the Helping Hands idea,” the girl said, referring to a program
where students were asked who—other students, teachers, staff—they
would go to if they had a problem. Then a list was developed of
Helpers who would be on call when a student was in trouble.
Training of everyone involved would be implemented first.

Lacey smiled at Darcy. “It was my favorite,
too.”

“I like the Student Court,” Nick said.

Darcy immediately responded, “You would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It appeals to your need for power. For
influence.”

“What’s wrong with that? I like influencing
this school in a positive way. You should try it sometime,
McCormick.”

Seth intervened, “I like both these ideas.
Can we get down to how we might implement them? A plan from our
subcommittee needs to be presented to the task force next
Monday.”

Again, Lacey had tried to leave quickly after
they’d finished, but Taylor was very good at detaining people.
“Thanks for doing this,” he said, holding up the folder.

Lacey remembered noting the lines of strain
around his mouth. She remembered wondering how long he’d been at
school that Monday. Had he eaten? Had Monica Matthews brought him
supper again? When she’d realized the direction of her thoughts,
she’d erected her protective barrier. “Well, don’t tell my
grandfather about this. He’d have a fit.”

Seth had looked shocked at her candor—and
hurt. Then he’d swallowed hard. “No, of course I won’t. I don’t
want to make more trouble for you with him than I already
have.”

She’d stared hard at him, then said
meaningfully, “That’s a given, Mr. Taylor. We can’t hurt my
grandfather.” He’d nodded, and let her go.

Sighing heavily at the bizarre circumstances,
Lacey got out of the car and hurried up the walk into the day care.
The outer room was painted in primary colors with animals and their
babies on every wall. The whimsical scenes made Lacey smile.

A woman looked up from behind the desk. “Hi,
I’m Mary Jarrett. I’m the director here.”

“Lacey Cartwright. I’m joining the school
group.”

Mary smiled. “You’re with Seth.” The phrase
made Lacey uncomfortable. “He was my English teacher twenty years
ago,” Mary chatted on. “I did my senior project on day care for the
underprivileged. It led to all this.” She looked around the
room.

Cassie could use Mary Jarrett’s story for
the tribute to Seth
. “Where’s my group?”

“Two students wanted to go right to the
nursery. The cute boy and the unusual-looking girl. The twins
headed for the playground out back. Seth is in with the toddlers.
Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

Before Lacey could say she’d rather be with
the kids—or anyone but Seth—Mary led her to a room off to the side.
Decorated again in primary colors, everything was pint-size. The
children’s work was displayed on the walls.

Five toddlers were in the room—one was
painting in a corner with an adult, two were climbing the plastic
jungle gym—well padded below—with a teacher supervising, one lay on
a mat, cuddling a doll almost as big as she was. The last one sat
in the lap of Seth Taylor, who occupied a big rocker. The gorgeous
little boy, with fat blond curls, sucked his fingers and nestled
into Seth’s chest, absorbed in the book he held. As Seth read
softly, one strong arm kept the child anchored to him.

Every defense Lacey had erected crumbled at
the sight.

Mary tugged her over. Lacey went reluctantly.
“Hi,” the woman said to Seth. “Your partner’s here.”

Seth looked up at her just as the child did.
She noticed that the baby’s eyes were light brown, like Kevin’s.
“Who’s this?” she asked, reaching out and ruffling the boy’s
hair.

“This is Josh Cornwall.” Seth gave her a grin
that she thought could melt the snow outside. “And he likes to
read, don’t you, buddy?”

Mary laughed. “Still getting kids into the
books, aren’t you, Seth?”

He winked at Lacey and her knees liquefied.
“You bet. Whenever I can.”

Josh chose that moment to reach out to Lacey.
“Up,” he said.

Seth steadied the boy before he could fall,
and Lacey leaned over. Chubby hands encircled her neck as she
grasped Josh. Seth’s fingers trailed down the boy’s back, and then
grazed Lacey’s arms. Even through her corduroy dress, her skin
tingled. “Don’t blame you a bit, little guy,” he said as he let
Josh go. “She’s a lot prettier than I am.”

Ignoring the compliment, Lacey straightened
and hugged Josh. One hand went to his silky hair and smoothed it
down. The scents of baby shampoo and powder assailed her. She was
reminded of Kevin, when he was little. Lacey had loved to help her
father bathe and dress him. She closed her eyes to will back the
moisture. Josh pulled his fingers out of his mouth and burrowed his
face into her chest.

“He’s getting your dress wet, Ms.
Cartwright,” Mary said.

Lacey opened her eyes. “It’ll clean up.”

Seth stood, watching them. “He looks tired.
Want to rock him?”

Carefully she avoided Seth’s gaze and nodded.
Taking a seat, she settled the child on her lap and began to rock
him as if she’d been doing it all her life.

Seth couldn’t take his eyes off her as she
cuddled the baby against her chest. Seeing her slender fingers
smooth the boy’s curls, listening to her croon to him, stirred
something very potent inside of Seth.

Mary asked him, “Do you want to see the other
rooms?”

After a few moments, he drew in a deep breath
and tore his gaze away. “Yes, Mary, I’d love to see the other
rooms.” Without looking at Lacey again, he practically bolted out
of the toddler area.

The phrase “running for your life” came to
mind as he hurried after the day-care director.

THE FOLLOWING WEEK, on Thanksgiving morning,
Seth sat at Mitch and Cassie Lansing’s kitchen table as the couple
prepared dinner. Seth’s mother was spending the week in Phoenix
with his sister, so he and his son were glad for the
invitation.

Joey, home from school for the first time,
was in the den, playing video games with Johnny Battaglia, the
young man Cassie had helped turn around and who was now practically
part of the Lansing family. Mitch’s brother, Dr. Kurt Lansing,
would join them after he finished work at the clinic.

Seth studied the large kitchen. Mitch’s house
was much like the man himself, big and orderly, with a lot of
hidden warmth. As Seth watched him stir something at the stove,
Mitch addressed Cassie. “Sit down
now
,” he told his
pregnant wife. “You’ve been rubbing your back all morning.” When
Cassie hesitated, he added, “Or I’ll carry you upstairs and make
you rest in bed.”

“Try it, big guy,” Cassie said sassily, but
couldn’t stifle a yawn.

He rounded on her and swooped her up in his
arms. “You asked for it.”

Seth glanced away, feeling like an intruder
at the intimate sight of Cassie snuggling into Mitch and whispering
something into his ear. He heard Mitch laugh throatily as he headed
out of the kitchen with his wife in his arms. “Say goodbye to Seth,
love. You’re taking a nap before dinner.”

“Goodbye, Seth.” Her words were muffled by
yet another yawn.

Seth smiled at their gentle sparring. Both
were strong personalities, agreeing on very little. But they were
so outrageously in love that nothing else seemed to matter. With a
force that surprised Seth, he realized he wanted a relationship
like theirs in his life again.

He’d loved his young wife, Connie, who had
died suddenly when Joey was five. Seth had been thirty-three; he
was devastated for years by the loss.

Eventually, he’d dated and had one or two
serious relationships since then, though he’d never remarried. He’d
been so involved with Joey and taking over as principal of the high
school that his personal life hadn’t been a priority. Today, he
wondered if he’d missed the boat. Without his consent, and against
his will, a vision of Lacey Cartwright hit him with the force of a
sledgehammer. He willed the image away.

Mitch returned, got coffee and took a seat at
the table. “So, how’s everything going?”

“Don’t ask.”

“Cassie says there was another fight at
school yesterday.”

Raking a hand through his hair, Seth shook
his head. “You know, we’ve come to expect more trouble before every
holiday.”

“Loneliness is tougher at this time of
year.”

“The kids can’t handle it very well.”

“Looks like you’re not doing so hot
yourself.”

Seth started to deny the fact, but knew
better than to try to bluff Mitch. “Everything seems to be crashing
in at once. Jerry Bosco’s threatening to file a grievance for
harassment.”

“Jerry Bosco’s an ass.”

“I’ve got to deal with him, nonetheless. I’m
going for a 3020A after the holidays.” Seth explained the legal
procedure he would use to fire a tenured teacher for
incompetence.

“You’ll have to be here to do that,” Mitch
said without much tact.

Seth didn’t answer.

“What’s going on with State Ed.?”