Название | To Love and Honor |
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Автор произведения | Irene Brand |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Love Inspired |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472021755 |
Later, when Janie entered the room for her class time, her enthusiasm had waned, and Violet detected angry glances in her direction by some students, but they did nothing for which Violet could reprimand them. No doubt, in the hallways, they were giving Janie a rough time. At the close of the day, Janie came into Violet’s room, and though she was shedding no tears, her lips trembled.
“My exhibit had been pushed to the floor. It’s ruined.” Violet was so angry, she didn’t dare speak. Disregarding the rules, she put her arms around Janie, and the girl started sobbing.
“I knew my good luck wouldn’t hold. Nothing ever goes right for me.”
Through clenched teeth, Violet said, “It is going right for you. You will go to that regional competition. You’ll have plenty of time to redo your project. Let’s go check on it.”
As they started out the door, Violet saw the large form of Roger Gibson swinging down the hallway. His figure was even more prepossessing in his smart, brown uniform.
“Hi. I came to get Misty’s project.” He looked from Violet’s angry face to Janie’s tear-streaked one.
“Is something wrong?”
“Janie’s exhibit was awarded the Best of Show medallion, but someone pushed it on the floor. I’m going to see how badly it’s damaged. I’m determined that she’s going to the regional competition, if she has to do a whole new exhibit.”
“Of course she is,” Roger said, and he put his arm over Janie’s shoulders. “Come on. I’ll help you pick up the pieces and go from there.” Roger’s support was as welcome to Violet as Larry’s had been.
Miraculously, the shadow box had only a few damaged places, which could easily be repaired. The models had all pulled loose from the box, but only one was broken. Roger knelt on the floor and helped Janie pick up the items.
“No problem at all to put your exhibit back together,” Roger said. “As soon as I get Misty’s project, I’ll take you home so you won’t have to carry this.”
“Oh, no,” Janie said quickly, “I thank you, but I don’t want to ride home in a police cruiser. Mrs. Grady or the neighbors might think I’m in trouble.” Roger’s gaze met Violet’s over the girl’s head, and his brown eyes were compassionate.
“Very well,” he said, “but I do want to invite you to our teen group at the church. You will find a welcome there.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Some of the teens who attend your church aren’t friendly here at school. I’ll continue to worship with Mrs. Grady. Very few young people go to that church, and I’m accepted by the adults.”
The matter-of-fact way the girl talked about her ostracism crushed Violet. So much stoicism in a girl of that age wasn’t healthy. “If you won’t let Lieutenant Gibson take you home, I’ll walk with you and be sure you don’t have any more trouble. I want to see you home safely with your project.”
Janie nodded assent, and Roger moved toward Misty’s project. “I still want you to join our teen group, Janie. Think about it.” The grim expression on his face indicated that he would have some stern words to say to the youth he counseled. “I’ll see you at church on Sunday, Violet.”
Since he had bidden her goodbye in that manner, Violet didn’t expect to hear any more from Roger until Sunday, so it was with some surprise that she opened her door to him, still in uniform, Friday evening.
He removed his hat. “I have something I need to ask you, Violet. Is it all right for me to come in?”
Violet unlocked the storm door and motioned him inside. Obviously this wasn’t a social call. He twirled his hat around in his hands a time or two, and his demeanor puzzled Violet. She had never known Roger to be ill at ease.
“Violet, do you know Linda Conley, an inmate in a correctional facility in Topeka, Kansas?”
Roger’s face blurred, Violet’s hands fluttered nervously, and her body sank slowly toward the floor.
Chapter Two
Violet didn’t black out completely, and she felt Roger’s arm around her, leading her to the couch. He pressed her head forward to her knees.
“Hold on a minute.” Roger’s voice sounded a long way off. Soon, he sat beside her on the couch, supported her head and wiped her face with a cool, damp cloth. He brought a glass of water and forced a few drops between her lips. She had trouble breathing, and she gasped for air.
“Tell me I’m dreaming, Roger. I can’t believe you said what you did.”
Roger smoothed the damp hair back from her face, for he had been overzealous in wetting the cloth.
“It’s true, Violet. I received a call about her a few minutes ago.”
Violet caught his hand. “Tell me everything.”
“Linda Conley, a life prisoner, has terminal cancer, with a life expectancy of six months. They’re looking for her next of kin to give her a home so she won’t have to die in prison.”
Violet shuddered and shook her head in disbelief, grasping Roger’s hand as if it were a lifeline. “Roger, you can’t understand what you’ve just said to me. I’ve never needed a friend more than I do now.”
He squeezed her hand. “You have a friend, so don’t worry. Whatever it is you’re facing, I’ll be with you all the way.”
She sat up, pressing her hand to her forehead. “Who else knows about that phone call?” she asked finally.
“No one in Maitland. Fortunately, I was alone in the office when the call came in.”
“I won’t lie to you, but I would rather die than answer that question. I thought when I moved to Maitland, I had left the past behind, and now it’s pursued me here.”
Roger patted her hand. “Your past doesn’t matter to me, and I wouldn’t have approached you if it wasn’t my official duty. I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you, but you know I can’t return that call and say I couldn’t find the answer. From your response, it’s obvious you do know Linda Conley.”
Violet smiled slightly. “One of the things I’ve always admired about you, Roger, is that you do what you think is right regardless of the consequences, so I would never blame you for doing your duty because it involves me. It’s just difficult to unearth the past.”
“Is Linda related to you?”
“Linda Conley is my mother, but I don’t remember ever seeing her, because I was only two years old when she shot and killed my father.”
Violet hadn’t looked at Roger when she blurted out the truth. The words left a bitter nasty taste in her mouth. After a moment, she glanced sideways to see how Roger had taken the news. His brown eyes were deep dark pools of despair, also displaying another emotion. Was it shock? In his line of work, Roger often encountered appalling situations, and she thought he would be hardened to it by now, but his face registered horror. And no wonder, Violet conceded. A law officer would think twice before befriending a murderess’s child. If this news circulated around Maitland, she could bid Larry goodbye, but would she lose Roger’s friendship, too?
Lowering her lashes, she said softly, “Think any less of me than you did a few minutes ago? Do you still consider me a reputable teacher for your daughter?”
Roger moved closer to Violet, his arm encircled her shoulders, and he shook her gently. “Stop that kind of talk. I’ll admit I’m concerned, but only for your sake. What a burden you’ve carried all of your life! I have wondered occasionally why you didn’t talk about your family, but I thought