Crossroads (7 page)

The phone rang, and she reached for it distractedly, her gaze still on the screen.

“Tess Lockwood.”

“Tess? It's Mitch. I heard about what happened Saturday night, and I just wanted to call and make sure everything was okay.”

Tess's heart began to beat double time as the familiar, husky voice came over the wire. Suddenly it was no problem to transfer her attention from the screen to the phone.

“Hi.” She berated herself for the sudden breathless
quality of her voice, praying he wouldn't notice. “Your timing is impeccable. I'm working on your story.”

“Then you can probably use a break from the boredom.”

She heard the self-deprecating humor in his voice and smiled. “Don't sell yourself short.”

“Hey, I'm just a guy doing his job. Nothing more. But tell me about Saturday,” he prompted, diverting the attention from himself. “I saw Bruce earlier today, and he seemed to have survived. What about you. Are you okay?”

Tess felt her throat tighten with emotion. Which was silly, of course. The call was nothing more than a follow-up with the mother of a problem student. But she was touched nonetheless.

“I'm fine,” she replied. “And thank you for checking. I'm sure you're busy enough just keeping up with the students, let alone their parents. But that's probably why you're so good at what you do—and why you win awards.”

Mitch frowned. Tess had assumed his call was professional. But was it? He hadn't stopped to analyze his motives when he'd decided to contact her. All he knew was that he wanted to reassure himself that Saturday's trauma hadn't rattled her too badly. But he knew that Tess was a strong woman. She didn't need him to check up on her. Yet he'd made the call anyway. Which led him to believe that it was motivated by reasons that had nothing to do with his job. And to let her think otherwise wasn't honest.

“Actually, I'm not always this good about follow-up with parents,” he admitted.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment while Tess digested that comment. Was he implying a personal interest? Or just letting her know that Bruce's case needed more intervention and involvement than most? Tess had no idea. So she played it safe and stayed neutral.

“Then I especially appreciate the call. It's nice to know I'm not in this thing with Bruce completely alone.”

Mitch's frown deepened. Did her polite, impersonal remark imply that she wanted to keep their relationship on a professional basis? Or was she still just running scared? Connected only by voice, with none of the visual cues he'd had at the carnival, Mitch was uncertain. And frustrated. Unfortunately, a phone conversation was not the way to get clarity. Which he would be wise not to seek anyway, he reminded himself firmly. Relationships had been off his radar screen for seven years. And it would be best if they stayed that way.

“Well, if I can help in any way, don't hesitate to call,” he said, matching her impersonal, polite tone.

“I won't. And Mitch…thank you again.”

The sudden warmth in her voice washed over him like a tropical wave, and his own voice heated up in response. “You're welcome. Goodbye, Tess.”

As Tess slowly replaced the receiver and turned regretfully back to her computer, she realized that Caroline was standing in the doorway, grinning.

“I take it the interview went well.”

Tess felt hot color steal over her cheeks. “How did you know?”

“I assume that was Mitch Jackson on the phone. I
only caught the tail end of the conversation, but from your tone of voice I gather you two clicked.”

“He was very…nice,” Tess conceded self-consciously. “I should have the story wrapped up before the end of the day.”

Caroline folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the edge of the cubicle wall. “Is that all I'm going to get?” she teased, her eyes twinkling.

Tess's flush deepened. “There isn't any more to tell.”

“Hmm.” Caroline studied her for a moment. “So why did he call?”

“I had some trouble with Bruce Saturday night. He heard about it and wondered if everything was okay.”

Caroline frowned and straightened. “Is it?”

Tess nodded. “For the moment.” She gave her boss a quick recap of the evening's events, then sighed. “These last few weeks have really been a challenge. I'm lucky Mitch Jackson has taken such an interest.”

Caroline eyed her speculatively. “I know he's committed to his work, or he wouldn't be winning awards,” she conceded. “But I doubt he makes a habit of checking to see how the parents of his students are doing. Unless his interest is more than academic.”

Tess stared after Caroline as her boss turned and disappeared around the corner. She wasn't sure the managing editor was right. But the possibility sent a tingle down her spine. However, her priority was Bruce. Period. Getting his life turned around would require every bit of her energy and attention.

With an effort Tess forced her attention back to the
words on the screen. Recalled something Mitch had just said in their conversation. And suddenly had the ending to her story.

“I'm just a guy doing his job. Nothing more,” Tess typed, attributing the quote to Mitch. Then she continued. “Clearly, the governor's office doesn't agree. Mitch Jackson isn't just a man doing his job. He's a man with a mission—doing a great job. And Southfield High is a better place because of it.”

Tess leaned back. Mitch
was
a man with a mission. Because he cared so much about the kids, he did his job with focus, commitment and passion.

And suddenly Tess couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if Mitch devoted that same focus, commitment and passion to some lucky woman.

The answer came immediately to mind. And it was all contained in one word.

Heaven.

 

Uncle Ray finished the article, took off his glasses and carefully lowered the newspaper to the kitchen table. “That's a mighty fine story, son. I'm proud of you.”

Mitch felt his neck grow hot. “Thanks, Uncle Ray. I thought you'd like to see it. But frankly, I'm a little embarrassed about the whole thing. I didn't get into this line of work to be in the limelight.”

“I know that. And I think it came through real clear in the story. The reporter…” He picked up the paper again and looked for the byline. “Tess Lockwood. She sure seems to have caught your personality. And all in one interview, too.”

Mitch wrapped his hands around his coffee cup.
“Actually, we'd met before that. You remember the woman I mentioned when I was out here a few weekends ago? The one who's the mother of one of my problem students?”

Uncle Ray nodded. “I seem to recall something like that.”

“Well, she works for the community newspaper. She did the story.”

“Is that so?”

Mitch saw the sudden gleam in his uncle's eyes and held up his hand. “Don't jump to any conclusions, Uncle Ray. All of our meetings have been strictly professional.”

The older man nodded sagely. “I'm sure they have. How is the boy doing, by the way?”

Mitch frowned. “Everything's been quiet for the past week. But there was an incident last weekend.” He explained the car accident to the older man, who shook his head.

“Sounds like that boy needs a good talking-to.”

“He does. Te…his mother is doing her best, but I think she may be in over her head on this one. Fourteen is a tough age, especially without a father figure. Bruce seems like a good kid, but he's in with the wrong crowd. Things worked out okay last weekend, but next time he may not be so lucky. I'm intervening where I can, but there's only so much I can do. I only see him during school hours. And even then, I doubt I'm having much impact. To him, I am definitely the enemy with a capital
E.
”

“Hmm. That is a problem. Especially if you've taken a particular interest in this boy.” Uncle Ray reached for his mug and took a sip of coffee. “You
know, you might have more luck getting through to him if you could get him one-on-one outside of school. Let him see you in a different light. Might help him to see you more as a friend than an enemy.”

Mitch considered that. “You could be right,” he agreed.

“Why don't you invite him to come down here to the farm with you for Easter?”

Mitch stared at his uncle. “Are you serious?”

The older man shrugged. “Why not? Plenty of room. And the fresh air might do him some good.”

Now that the initial shock was wearing off, Mitch began to warm to the idea. “You know, that just might work,” he said slowly. “His mother told me that when they lived in Jeff City, Bruce used to love visiting the farm of some friends of theirs.”

“There you go.”

Mitch regarded his uncle silently for a moment. “I think you might be on to something, Uncle Ray. But what made you think of this? I've had lots of problem students through the years, and you've never suggested anything like this before.”

He shrugged. “Can't say. Just seems like you've taken a special interest in this boy. And it sounds like he could be at a crossroads. I sort of fancy helping you help him pick the right route. Do you think his mother would agree to this?”

Mitch nodded. “She wants to do whatever's best for her son.” Then he frowned. “But I hate to take him away from her on a holiday weekend. They only have each other, so she'd be alone.”

“Well, bring her along.”

Mitch stared at the older man. His uncle was full of surprises tonight. “Bring her along?”

“Sure. Like I said, plenty of room. Be nice to have the house full of people on a holiday for once.”

While Uncle Ray was kind and generous to a fault and such a gesture was characteristic of him, there was something more going on here than mere philanthropy, Mitch deduced. Like maybe a bit of match-making. He took a sip of his coffee and carefully set it on the table.

“Uncle Ray, you wouldn't by any chance be trying to play Cupid here, would you?”

The older man could have won an Academy Award for the innocent look he gave his nephew. “Cupid? I think I'm a little old for that, don't you?”

Mitch grinned. “You're not too old for anything.”

The hint of a smile touched Uncle Ray's lips. “How about some more coffee?” Without waiting for a response, he rose and walked over to the counter to retrieve the pot.

“You're avoiding the question,” Mitch accused.

Uncle Ray looked over his shoulder and eyed his nephew shrewdly. “How did it come up, anyway? One minute I'm trying to be a good Christian by opening my home to a troubled youngster, and the next you're thinking about romance. And you think
I'm
the one who's got Cupid on my mind?”

Mitch frowned at his uncle's back. Somehow this conversation had gotten all turned around. Had he overreacted to Uncle Ray's generosity, read too much into it? Was he the one with cupid on his mind?

If he was honest, Mitch knew that the answers to those questions were
probably
and
definitely.
He
couldn't deny that there was something about Tess Lockwood that had gotten under his skin. Or that she was invading his thoughts—and his heart—more and more. But why? And what was he going to do about it?

Uncle Ray had very adeptly avoided answering his question about Cupid, Mitch realized as the older man refilled his cup. But it didn't matter now. Because the questions he'd just asked himself were much more important, though the answers were just as elusive.

“T
his is a really dumb idea. Why can't we just stay home for Easter?”

Tess looked up as her son entered the living room and unenthusiastically dumped his duffel bag next to the couch. “Did you pack something nice for church on Sunday?”

“Do I have to go?”

“It's Easter.”

“Big deal.”

“Yes, it is,” Tess replied firmly. “We've never missed church on Easter. The only reason we don't go every week now is because of my work schedule. But I miss it. A lot.”

“I don't,” Bruce shot back. “It's boring.” He slouched into a chair, stretched out his long legs and scowled. “Why did you say yes to this, anyway?” he groused. “Three days with an ex-cop principal and an old man—some holiday.”

Tess counted to ten—slowly—as she walked down
the hall to retrieve her suitcase. When she reached the sanctuary of her room, she took a deep breath and sat on the edge of the bed. She hadn't answered Bruce's question. Mostly because she didn't know the answer. The invitation had come out of the blue, taking her by surprise. And Mitch had said all the right things when he'd issued it. Things that made it hard to turn down. Like how beneficial it could be to his relationship with Bruce to let the boy see him in a different setting. And how good it might be for Bruce to get back to the country environment he'd once enjoyed so much, in simpler days. The rationale had seemed to make a lot of sense at the time. She was desperate to help Bruce, and Mitch had positioned this weekend in a way that made it sound almost therapeutic.

But that wasn't the only reason she'd accepted, Tess admitted. Yes, she was touched by Mitch's willingness to go the extra mile for Bruce. And yes, she believed that Mitch was sincerely convinced that a weekend in the country might be good for Bruce. But though Mitch was a dedicated principal who went above and beyond for his students, she really didn't think he invited most of them—and their mothers—to spend a holiday at his uncle's farm. Which meant that maybe, just maybe, part of his reason for asking was that he wanted to spend time with her. And even with her teenage son and his elderly uncle as chaperons, that thought sent a shiver of excitement through her.

Tess knew she wasn't being wise. After all, romance was
not
among her priorities. Her roles were clear and straightforward—mother and breadwinner. Period.

But in her heart she knew it wasn't quite that simple. Because she was a woman, too. And that part of her, those needs, had been suppressed far too long. Which hadn't been much of a problem, frankly, until Mitch came along. He made her feel like a desirable woman again, whether that was his intent or not. She had no idea of the depth of his interest in her, only that it had to be there, at some level, or this invitation would never have come.

Tess knew she shouldn't get carried away with romantic fantasies. But for just one weekend the temptation had been too great to resist. And what harm could it do? Bruce might very well benefit from the trip. As for her, a weekend with Mitch might help satisfy the longing in her soul for male companionship, even if only temporarily. It seemed to be a win-win situation all around.
If
she could get Bruce to cooperate, she reminded herself with a sigh as she hefted her suitcase.

The doorbell rang just as she reached the living room, sending her heart jumping to her throat. She glanced at her son, hoping he would buy her a moment to compose herself by answering the door, but he clearly had no intention of budging from the couch. She took a deep breath, willing the uncomfortable hammering of her heart to subside, but her body just wasn't cooperating, she realized helplessly.

A second ring from the bell and Bruce's curious look finally compelled her into action. She wiped her palms on her jeans and made her way to the door, praying for a modicum of composure.
Please, Lord, just let me get through the first few moments,
she pleaded.
Let me look cool and composed and in con
trol. Let something clever and witty trip from my tongue.

But that was not to be. Because when she opened the door and caught her first sight of Mitch, her pulse went off the scale and her voice deserted her.

He was dressed more casually than she'd ever seen him, in well-worn jeans and a forest-green shirt that hugged his muscular chest and broad shoulders. His dark hair was slightly windblown, and despite a slight chill in the air, he exuded warmth. As Caroline had noted, he was one handsome man.

But it was actually his smile that did her in. Compelling. Engaging. Intimate. It somehow seemed to reach deep inside her, to a place no one had touched for a long, long time. Her breath caught in her throat, and the greeting she'd finally mustered died on her lips.

For a moment their gazes connected and sizzled in silence. When Mitch finally spoke, the husky quality of his voice made her knees go weak, and her grip on the door involuntarily tightened. “Good morning, Tess.”

“Hi.” Her voice cracked, and she wanted to sink through the floor. So much for being cool and witty. She sounded like some schoolgirl with a crush on the principal—and would probably be taken just about as seriously, she thought, her spirits drooping. Mitch was far too worldly to be interested in someone who acted more like a lovesick student than a desirable woman. And even if she wasn't in the market, it would be nice to have someone look at her, just once, with fire in his eyes. The smile on her lips suddenly felt stiff, but she struggled to keep it in place.

Mitch could feel the tension in the air. The catch in her voice communicated her nervousness, and he didn't doubt that she'd had second thoughts about this weekend—just as he had. But now that he stood just inches away from her, any lingering doubts vanished. He not only
wanted
to spend time with this woman, he
needed
to, because at some very basic level he was drawn to her. Not just because she was beautiful, though he certainly appreciated her physical attributes. His gaze flickered over her quickly, discreetly, but his keen eyes missed nothing. Long, shapely legs eased into worn jeans that fit like a second skin. A waistline that seemed small enough for his hands to span. A soft, pink cotton shirt, open at the neck, that subtly molded her curves and revealed the pulse beating rapidly in the hollow of her throat. She was scared, nervous, uncertain…attracted?

He felt his own pulse accelerate as his gaze moved swiftly back to her eyes, past soft, slightly parted lips that seemed made to be kissed. And suddenly he was the one who was nervous.

“W-would you like to come in?” She stepped aside, and Mitch crossed the threshold, taking his time—and a long, slow breath—as he scanned the small but cozy room. Tess had done a good job with the apartment, he realized, noting the homey touches throughout. It was a friendly, welcoming place—except for the expression on Bruce's face, Mitch amended as his gaze connected with his problem student.

Mitch steadily returned the young man's hostile glare. This was the one part of the weekend he was
not
looking forward to. Getting through to Bruce, try
ing to put their relationship on a different footing, wasn't going to be easy. But it was important. Bruce was on the edge, and unless someone pulled him back soon, he could end up like…

As always, Mitch's gut clenched painfully, and he blocked out that image. He wasn't going to go there. Not today. But he was going to do everything in his power to keep Bruce from making the same mistakes. Just as he had for every troubled student who'd come his way ever since that night.

Despite the teenager's antagonistic look, Mitch smiled. “Hello, Bruce.”

Bruce waited a long moment before mumbling a barely audible “Hi.” Then he turned his attention back to the TV, pointedly ignoring the two adults by the door.

Tess frowned, but Mitch's smile was reassuring. “Everything will be fine,” he said softly.

She gave him a worried look and spoke in a low voice. “I hope so. Bruce hasn't exactly been enthusiastic about this. I don't want him to ruin your holiday weekend.”

“He won't.”

She sighed. “I wish I could be so sure.”

“Trust me on this.”

She tilted her head and looked at him quizzically. “Do you know something I don't?”

Actually, he did. But he couldn't very well tell her that as long as she shared his holiday it was bound to be a good one. “Let's just say I'm an optimist,” he offered. “And that I don't intend to let anything ruin this weekend.”

Tess gave him a weary smile. “I like your attitude.”

“It beats the alternative,” he replied with a grin. “So are you ready? It's too pretty a day to waste in the city.” He reached for her bag.

“We're all set. Bruce, help Mitch take the bags out to the car while I get the food.”

Though Mitch had protested that it wasn't necessary, she'd insisted on contributing her homemade lasagna and cinnamon streusel coffee cake to the weekend's festivities. As she headed to the kitchen she glanced again toward Bruce, who was still slouched in front of the TV. “Now, Bruce,” she said pointedly in a tone that brooked no argument.

By the time she returned from the kitchen, there was no sign of Bruce. She gave Mitch a quizzical look as he reached over to take the cooler of goodies.

“He's in the car,” he replied to her silent question.

“Did he say anything?” Hope and fear mingled in her voice.

“No. But he'll loosen up.”

She sighed. “I don't know. He's gotten pretty good at shutting people out.”

At the pain and discouragement in her voice, Mitch felt his throat contract with emotion. Parenting an adolescent was never easy, even for two people. Doing it single-handedly while coping with a new job, a new town and a son having difficulty adapting to a new school made it even tougher. He knew that Tess was doing her best, and he was tempted to reassure her that things would work out. But he couldn't guarantee that. And he'd learned a long time ago not to make promises he couldn't keep.

“Maybe the change of scene will give him a new perspective,” Mitch said encouragingly. “If nothing else, it will brighten up my uncle's holiday. He's really been looking forward to this. He doesn't have much company these days.”

“I still can't believe he was willing to invite two total strangers to stay with him,” Tess said, shaking her head. “He must be a very generous man. Will you tell me about him on the drive?”

“Sure.”

By the time they pulled into the gravel drive leading to the modest, two-story frame farmhouse that Uncle Ray had called home for forty-five years, she'd learned a lot about the older man. His beloved wife had died eight years before, and his only son had been killed in Vietnam. Though his uncle had coped with those losses, relying on a deep-seated faith to see him through, Mitch confided that he often worried about the older man spending so much time alone. Yet his uncle never complained, saying that he was too busy to get lonely.

“Uncle Ray really is amazing,” Mitch told her, the admiration clear in his voice. “Even though he's spent his life on a farm—and trust me, no one knows more than he does about corn and wheat and soybeans and soil and weather…you get the idea—his interests go far beyond the world of farming. And he's a voracious reader.”

According to Mitch, he fancied biographies and, interestingly enough, romance novels, citing their optimism and happy endings as tonic for the soul in a world where the concept of lifelong love and com
mitment had somehow lost favor. Tess liked him already.

She'd also learned a lot about Mitch during their hour-long drive. It was clear that he felt a deep sense of responsibility toward his uncle—more, perhaps, than required by mere kinship. She sensed that these two men shared some sort of special bond, though Mitch revealed nothing that would verify that hunch. When he spoke of his uncle his voice held unmistakable affection, and if he ever resented spending his rare free time working with the older man on the farm, he gave no indication of it. Generosity, it appeared, ran in the Jackson family.

Tess glanced into the back seat a couple of times during the drive, hoping to pull Bruce into the conversation, but he was hunched into the corner, his eyes closed. He might be sleeping, but more likely he was simply making a statement that he had no intention of participating in this weekend, she speculated resignedly.

“There's Uncle Ray.”

Tess transferred her gaze to the house at the end of the gravel drive they'd just turned into, where an older man stood on the porch, waiting to greet them. Tall and spare, with fine, neatly trimmed gray hair, he radiated strength and tenacity—as if he had weathered the storms of life much as the huge oak tree in his front yard had weathered the storms of nature.

As they pulled to a stop by the front porch, he made his way a bit stiffly down the three steps. During the drive Mitch had told her more about the accident that had predicated his own move to St. Louis, and she could now see firsthand the lingering effects of it. She
knew it must be difficult for Mitch's uncle, an independent man who was used to doing things on his own, to have to rely on help from others to keep up with the farm.

Mitch set the parking brake and smiled at her. “Welcome to my home away from home. Sit tight and I'll get your door.”

She didn't protest, waiting as the two men shared an uninhibited bear hug as they met in front of the car. She caught a glimpse of Bruce in the visor mirror and saw that he was awake—and watching the exchange. Good. Seeing Mitch in this caring context, relaxed and removed from his official capacity, was exactly what Bruce needed. Maybe in this environment he would realize that the principal truly had his best interests at heart, that his concern was genuine. And then maybe…just maybe…he would allow Mitch to get close enough to give him some guidance. Tess prayed that would happen soon. Because she knew that she desperately needed help with her son, just as she intuitively knew that Mitch could provide it.