The Spaniard's Summer Seduction. Cathy Williams

spent her noon hour supervising in the cafeteria, a task she’d taken upon herself to give the teachers some much-needed preparation time, since their weekly spare periods had been swallowed up in the new round of budget cuts.

      However, Lucia didn’t detest cafeteria supervision nearly as much as most of her teachers, probably because the students were a little frightened of her and tended to behave well in her presence. They sat quietly over their lunches, glancing at her surreptitiously as she worked at a table near the door. As soon as possible they collected their trash, dumped it and escaped outside to the playground.

      After the lunch hour, Lucia returned to her office, closed the door and opened a brown paper sack on her desk, taking out an egg-salad sandwich and a banana. She ate without tasting the food, lost in her tumult of thoughts.

      Uppermost in her mind was sorrow over the possible loss of the school, and guilt about her own part in the matter. Regardless of the chairwoman’s protestations, Lucia knew this action by the school board had its beginnings in personal animosity.

      And those hard feelings, she thought gloomily, were mostly her own fault.

      Somehow she’d offended Gloria Wall, simply by being what she was. Everything about Lucia seemed to anger the woman.

      Of course she couldn’t change her physical self, but maybe if Lucia had been warmer and more willing to mingle with the community, perhaps the students of Crystal Creek wouldn’t be losing a school that had served the community for almost ninety years.

      Lucia put the sandwich down on its waxed-paper wrapping and buried her face in her hands, trying to think calmly.

      Somehow she had to launch a campaign to convince the townspeople that their middle school was vital, and that budget restraints were not a good enough reason to tear the heart out of a community. Furthermore, she had to do it before March, when Gloria said they were intending to hold their civic plebiscite.

      But that brought another thought into her mind, and made her groan aloud in despair.

      Because when March rolled around, she was going to be…

      Lucia took a notepad from the desk and jotted some dates and numbers, then stared at them bleakly.

      In March she would be five months pregnant.

      “Oh, God,” she whispered aloud, staring at the dusty lilac bushes beyond the window. “What in the world am I going to do?”

      She felt a sudden deep yearning for somebody to talk with, a friend to share the pain and help her deal with all this. But Lucia had nobody in her life who was that close to her.

      Well, there was her half sister, Isabel, of course.

      Isabel Delgado had recently dropped out of nowhere to live on the Gibson farm up the river. She was married to Dan Gibson, father of one of the students in this very school. Moreover, when Lucia had run into Dan’s family at the Longhorn the previous week, Bella had looked radiant, so much in love that her face and body had seemed almost incandescent. Bella and Dan had been married for about a month now, and their happiness showed.

      The memory of her younger sister’s newfound contentment made Lucia feel both happy and wistful. It would be such a huge relief to talk with Bella and confide all her troubles. But Lucia had her reasons for avoiding all contact with her family for over ten years, and she didn’t want to reinstate those relationships now. Not even with sweet little Bella.

      Sometimes she chatted with June Pollock, her quiet landlady, who hid a warm heart under a brusque manner. But their conversations were casual and superficial, just friendly exchanges about everyday things. The truth was, Lucia had never developed emotional closeness with anybody.

      She pictured herself telling June the whole unhappy story.

      I was so lonely, June. You couldn’t imagine how lonely I’ve been, and how much I want a man sometimes, just to hold me and be close to me. Until last month, do you know I hadn’t been with a man for seven years.…

      She picked up the pen again and made some aimless doodles on the notepad.

      It had happened at a school administration convention in Austin in September. He was based in Washington, working in the federal government on one of the education commissions, and was a guest speaker. By chance they’d been seated next to each other at the banquet, and enjoyed their conversation. Afterward they went up to the hotel’s rooftop bar and had a drink, laughed and talked about inconsequential things, all the while flirting and drawing dangerously closer to each other.

      Lucia knew he was a career politician, not at all her style. And by the time they went down to her room together, she understood completely that their relationship was going to be a weekend fling and nothing more.

      But after so many lonely years, she was prepared to accept that.

      Desperately she craved the warmth of a man, the hard sweetness of his mouth and body, the feeling of being lost in his power.

      In a way, the fleeting nature of their encounter had actually been appealing to her. Lucia didn’t want any entanglements like the kind that had been part of her long-ago marriage and messy divorce. Most especially, she didn’t want to get close to anybody because closeness always led to pain and loss.

      All she wanted was a man to hold her for a while in his arms.

      And the politician had been a satisfying lover for the two nights they were together. No doubt he’d been surprised by her passion, because she didn’t really look like the kind of woman who would be wild and responsive in bed.

      Or maybe he wasn’t surprised at all, Lucia thought, her cheeks warming with shame. Perhaps those predatory men had the ability to see past a woman’s air of reserve, all the way into the banked fires and hunger in her eyes.

      At the end of the weekend, when the cab was waiting to take him to the airport, he’d asked politely if he could call her when he was in Texas again, and she’d refused.

      “We both knew the ground rules at the beginning,” she’d told him. “A weekend, nothing more. We’ll never see each other again, but it’s been nice all the same.”

      How relieved he’d appeared at her dismissive words, standing in the doorway of the hotel room with his leather garment bag slung over his shoulder.…

      Lucia stared down at the notepad.

      They’d been so careful, and used a condom every time they made love. But obviously, they hadn’t been careful enough.

      She wondered if she had a responsibility to contact that handsome politician and let him know about this child. He certainly didn’t want a relationship with a thirty-seven-year-old Texas school principal, let alone the complications of a baby. In this situation, he’d really been nothing more than a sperm donor.

      The problem was Lucia’s alone, and all the decisions would have to be hers as well.

      But still…

      Through the window she saw a muddy pickup truck pull into the school parking lot. In the back were two bales of hay and an upended saddle, as well as a big brown-and-white spaniel whose long ears flapped in the breeze.

      A man got out of the truck, said something to the dog and then strolled toward the school, checking his watch. He wore faded jeans, a white cotton shirt and a black felt Stetson, and walked with the lithe, confident stride of a born cowboy.

      Absently, Lucia watched the man until he disappeared around the front of the school. Then she returned to her gloomy thoughts.

      Again she longed for someone she could talk to, a trusted friend who would answer her panicky questions and give her sensible advice.

      Lucia realized, of course, that it wasn’t necessary to carry this baby to term. She was still very early in her pregnancy, and the procedure was probably simple enough. She could drive over to Dallas for a couple of days and solve all her problems, and nobody in this town would ever have to know.

      But Lucia couldn’t bring