Smoky Mountain Home. Lynnette Kent

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СКАЧАТЬ Ann went to stand beside her. “How’s it going?”

      Brushing shiny blond bangs back from her face, Teresa produced a tense smile. “I think I’m doing this right. I’ve had a few complaints, though.”

      “Someone’s always going to be unhappy with their new room.” Ruth Ann pulled up a chair and sat down. “They complained last year, they’ll complain next year. Just ignore it.”

      The physics teacher glanced around. “I want them to like me,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve heard I’m replacing the most popular teacher in the school.” Then she winced. “I mean, you’re a teacher and I’m sure they all like you—”

      “Don’t worry.” Ruth Ann grinned. “Mason Reed was definitely popular—he was the only male, he’s handsome as sin and a really nice guy. But now he’s in Boston with his new wife, starting classes in engineering himself, God bless him. And we are going to carry on just fine without him.” She nodded at the girl who came to the table. “Hi, Sherry, good to see you. This is Ms. James, the new physics teacher. And your room this year will be…”

      The morning passed quickly. Ruth Ann stuck by Teresa James until the young teacher seemed to feel more at ease. Then she helped new students convey bags and boxes to their rooms, making conversation to ease the difficult moments. Most parents bringing their daughters to Hawkridge carried with them some kind of guilt or a sense of failure. The girls themselves were often resentful as well as scared—they’d been brought to this school because they couldn’t be trusted to follow the rules anywhere else. And Hawkridge rules were tough—no alcohol, cigarettes, drugs or sex, no piercings, no makeup or jewelry other than a watch, no unescorted trips off-campus.

      Of course, not all girls complied with all of the rules. But the success rate at Hawkridge was high. Most students left with a good sense of self-esteem and real, reachable goals for their lives. Ruth Ann took pride in the part her horses played in that process.

      As she returned to the lounge after carrying a heavy pair of suitcases to the fourth floor, she saw Darcy Granger standing in the midst of the traffic flowing through the room. Clutching a bed pillow in a pink cover against her chest, she looked completely bewildered, on the verge of tears.

      Had her stepfather dropped her off without making sure she got where she belonged? Jonah Granger was probably worried his Porsche would be hit by one of the other parents’ cars.

      Ruth Ann approached Darcy. “Hey, there. I’m glad to see you made it. Have you checked in yet?”

      Darcy shook her head, her eyes wide and her lips pursed as she stared at the bustle around her.

      “Okay, then, you come stand here.” With a light hand on Darcy’s shoulder, Ruth Ann led the girl to the check-in line. “Is your da—Is Mr. Granger coming back?”

      “I think so.”

      “Good. He’ll see you if you stay in the line.” Ruth Ann looked around for other girls who needed help, but this late in the morning, almost everyone had arrived. Lunch in the Manor dining hall with their parents would be the opening of the school year. Then would come all the tearful—and quite a few not-so-tearful—goodbyes.

      Alice Tolbert was talking to Darcy, going over papers and forms in a gentle voice. And still Jonah Granger hadn’t made an appearance. Ruth Ann heaved a big sigh, shrugged into the slicker she’d discarded a couple of hours ago, and went out into the rain to find him.

      What she found first was a mountain of luggage right outside the front door. She counted ten suitcases, four large and four medium plus two huge athletic bags, stuffed until the seams had started to pull. Each was labeled with a lime-green luggage tag which read Darcy Granger.

      As she stared at the pile, a man came around the corner of the building nearest the parking lot, wheeling a handcart on which rested a full-sized footlocker—the kind the military issued for recruits to store all of their gear. This one was shiny black, with silver metal on the corners, and Ruth Ann had a feeling that—even if she hadn’t recognized Jonah Granger’s tall, lean frame—this, too, would have Darcy’s name on it.

      When Granger reached the bottom of the steps he stopped, straightened up and blew out a long breath. Then he glanced up and saw Ruth Ann.

      “This is the last of her gear,” he said, his voice even, emotionless. “If you’ll point the way to the elevator inside, I’ll get everything to her room.”

      Ruth Ann struggled with the smile she knew would only infuriate him. “I’m afraid we don’t use the elevator on Moving-In Day. It’s only for emergencies.”

      He leaned an elbow on the upturned edge of the footlocker. “You’re kidding, right?”

      She shook her head. “Afraid not.” Today, he wore jeans and boat shoes and a leather jacket softened with wear—but not too much—in all the right places. His wet hair had fallen into very natural and appealing spikes across his tanned forehead, and his long eyelashes had caught several beads of water. Did the man ever look less than gorgeous?

      His blue gaze remained locked on her face for a moment, the expression changing from surprise to irritation to a steely resolve. “Okay, then. No problem.” Grabbing the handle of the handcart, he began to bump it up the steps. When he reached the top, Ruth Ann opened the door for him to back through.

      “Thanks,” he said, without looking at her.

      When she came inside again, he was standing with Darcy and Alice, getting an explanation of where Darcy’s room would be. He glanced at Ruth Ann, and lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t have to carry those. We’ll manage.”

      Ruth Ann would have shrugged, but the two athletic bags were slung over her shoulders and in each hand she held a large suitcase. “That’s what I’m here for. And you haven’t got much time—lunch is at noon. Which room, Alice?”

      “Two East, Fourteen,” Alice said, meaning the east wing of the second floor, room fourteen.

      “That’s a good one,” Ruth Ann told Darcy as they started up the steps. “You’ll get morning sunshine and cool afternoons.”

      Darcy didn’t answer. Behind them, her stepfather bumped the footlocker up a step at a time.

      As they walked down the hallway, Ruth Ann could see that the door to room fourteen stood open. “Your roommate must be here already. Did Ms. Tolbert tell you her name?”

      Darcy shrugged one shoulder. “Um…Eve, I think.”

      One step over the threshold, however, she stopped dead and actually shrank back. Ruth Ann unloaded the luggage she carried outside the room, next to the wall, and then peered around Darcy to see what the problem might be. A mother and daughter occupied the room’s two chairs, the younger practically a mirror image of the older—fashionably thin, wearing designer jeans, shoes and tops, their faces perfectly made up, ash-blond hair perfectly styled.

      Confronted by the double dose of chic, Ruth Ann suddenly felt like the ugly green giant. As an adult, however, she was required to handle the situation, not run away from it.

      Clearing her throat, she said, “Hi, Eve. This is Darcy Granger. She’ll be your roommate.” Moving Darcy further into the room with a gentle push, she offered a hand to Eve’s mother. “I’m Ruth Ann Blakely, the equestrian trainer at Hawkridge.”

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