Winning the Teacher's Heart. Jean C. Gordon

Mr. Donnelly.”

      “Jared.” He raised his head, his deep blue eyes challenging her to object.

      “Can I have Mr. Donnelly sign my book?”

      Good girl. She could always count on Ari to do as she was told. Becca caught the sparkle in Jared’s eyes. Maybe too much so. She reminded Becca so much of herself at Ari’s age when her parents had separated temporarily after their third child had been stillborn. The uncertain feelings, wanting to do everything right so Daddy wouldn’t leave, too, and Mommy would come back.

      Jared rose and flexed his knees. “You don’t want me scribbling in your book.”

      Ari’s face crinkled.

      “I have a better idea. You and your mommy go get the book and I’ll read it to you. I used to read to my little brother all the time when our mom worked nights,” Jared added as if to explain his offer.

      Becca swallowed the protest she’d been about to make about keeping him and his grandmother from their lunch. She hadn’t known his mother worked nights, only the town gossip about his father’s partying. Jared was the oldest. He must have watched his brothers for her.

      “You two go and get the book,” Jared said. “I’ll tell Gram to hold lunch for a few minutes.”

      “Thanks,” Becca mouthed over Ari’s head before they walked out to the car.

      Jared and Brendon were on the couch looking at the motocross magazine when they returned. Jared patted the seat beside him and Ari looked up at her for an okay. Her chest tightened as she nodded. Ari scrambled over and plopped her book on top of the magazine.

      Becca hung back, feeling as out of place as she had in high school when she hadn’t been insulated by her small circle of friends. She shook it off. She’d been a cheerleader, an honor student, part of the popular group at school. She’d worked hard to never show how shy she really was. Now, she was a tenured high school teacher, mother, homeowner. What was it about Jared Donnelly that put her off-kilter?

      “Becca.” Mrs. Stowe motioned her from the kitchen doorway. “Come out to the garden with me while Jared’s reading. I planted far too much lettuce and spinach as usual. Pick some to take home with you.” The older woman handed her a basket in the back hall behind the kitchen and led the way to the large garden.

      “Take as much as you want. Harry is tired of salads. My kids have their own gardens, and my only grandkids who are still around here are Jared’s brothers. They aren’t vegetable fans. I hate to see good food go to waste.”

      “Since you put it that way.” Becca filled the basket.

      When they got back inside, Jared was just closing the book.

      “Mommy, Mr...Jared—” Ari said, looking up at him with a sheen in her eyes that could only be described as adoration “—read the story twice because you were taking so long. But that’s okay. It’s a good story and he’s a good reader.”

      Brendon rolled his eyes and the three adults laughed.

      “Get your book and thank Mr. Donnelly. We need to get going so he and Mrs. Stowe can have their lunch.”

      “Okay. Thanks for reading my story.”

      “Yeah, thanks.” Brendon tilted his rolled magazine toward Jared.

      “You’re both welcome.” Jared stood and walked out to the porch with them.

      The kids waved to him as she turned the car around, and she sensed his gaze on her as she pulled to the end of the driveway. She glanced back and he waved. Jared Donnelly had finally noticed her—at the absolutely worst time possible.

      * * *

      Jared took his time joining his grandmother in the kitchen. Becca’s kids had seemed to like him. But they were young and full of hero worship. He wasn’t anyone’s hero. He was simply very good at motocross racing, something he was going to use to help his hometown and show everyone he and his brothers weren’t cut from the same cloth as their father.

      “Everything’s ready,” his grandmother said as he sat at the kitchen table across from her.

      He picked up his sandwich.

      “Would you say grace?”

      “Sure.” He placed the sandwich back on the plate and blessed their food. “I got out of the practice on the circuit,” he apologized. “Even with the pit pastors as a reminder.”

      “Yes, I read the article on Team Faith you emailed me. I’m glad you had the fellowship of other Christians, especially with what you went through after your friend was killed.”

      “I knew you would be.” His out-of-control actions following his best friend and mentor’s death in a crash had made Jared wonder if he had more of his father in him than he cared to admit.

      “And I knew not to believe what I saw in the grocery store scandal sheets, even—or I should say, especially—when some people around here ate those stories up.”

      “What could you expect given how Dad was?” Jared’s fingers tightened around his glass of tea. He wasn’t going to have an easy time changing people’s minds about him. Bert Miller’s bequest would be a big help, though. For whatever reason, Bert had had faith in him when no one except his mother and grandmother had. And sometimes he wasn’t so sure about his mother. Not that he could blame her.

      “Gram, you and Mom are good people, and so was Grandpa. I’ve always wondered how Dad went so wrong.”

      She shook her head. “I don’t know. He was already grown when I took the teaching job at Schroon Lake and met your grandfather. But we don’t want to talk about your father.”

      His father was a subject Jared usually avoided, but, surprisingly, he did want to talk about him now. He wouldn’t press Gram, though, if she didn’t want to.

      “You sure hit it off with Becca’s kids,” she said.

      He shrugged and took a big bite of his sandwich.

      “I’ve always liked Becca Norton,” she said.

      He swallowed the bite. So had he. From afar.

      “Weren’t you in the same grade?

      “No, she was a year ahead of me.” One more thing that had put her out of his reach. Jared pictured Becca as she’d looked the first time he’d seen her, at the beginning of his freshman year. Her waist-length hair. Her bright friendly smile. Her hair was shorter now, but the smile was the same.

      “That’s right,” his grandmother said. “She came to Schroon Lake Central from Lakeside Christian Academy the year Harry became principal.” Her eyes went soft when she mentioned her husband of three years.

      Jared reached for his tea. With a kindergarten-through-twelfth-grade student body of less than three hundred, any new student at Schroon Lake Central School stuck out. But Becca had even more so—at least for him. He’d told his buddy he’d be taking her to the homecoming dance. His friend’s derisive laugh had made him more determined—until his father had gone and ruined everything before he’d even gotten to meet her. He gulped the rest of his drink.

      “Becca and I taught together for a couple of years before I retired. I think both Josh and Connor had her for history at least one year. Which reminds me. Do you know if Connor has made up his mind yet? I think Becca would be perfect.”

      Connor and Becca? He gripped the empty glass. “Isn’t he a little young for her?”

      His grandmother’s lips twitched. “I don’t see what Connor’s age has to do with hiring Becca to be the substitute head teacher at The Kids’ Place, the church day-care center, for the summer. She could use the money.”

      “Nothing.” He studied a small chip in his sandwich plate, most likely courtesy of him or one of his brothers or cousins. Gram