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Trevor shook his head. “This place really is Mayberry. One garage, one café, and everybody knows everybody else’s business. The kids are probably a bunch of rubes, with cow shit on their boots and straws hanging out of their mouths.”
“They’re just kids, Trevor, all different kinds,” Jess said. “Don’t judge them before you’ve given them a chance.”
“But are any of them like me?”
“And what do you think you’re like, Trevor?”
“Like . . . you know, cool.”
“There are different kinds of cool,” Jess said. “Give the kids a chance—and they’ll give you a chance.”
Trevor slumped in his seat, slurping the last of his chocolate shake. The lady sounded like she was reading from a script for a Mr. Rogers show. She didn’t have a clue what it would be like for him on Monday, walking into a new school with everybody staring at him.
At least he was smart. He didn’t always turn in his homework, but he’d aced every test he’d ever taken. But for a new kid, being smart was liable to count against you. Playing dumb was less likely to make enemies.
“Dad,” he said as they drove home from the restaurant. “What about homeschooling? You could get me some books or some computer software, and I could do classwork at home. Heck, if I got a lot done, I could even graduate early.”
“Nice try,” his dad said. “But what if you don’t stick with it? You need school. You need to be with people. Now about that haircut . . .”
“No. No way.”
“Suit yourself. We should’ve asked Jess whether long hair was a dress code violation.”
“I guess I’ll find out, won’t I?”
“I guess you will if you insist on being stubborn. Let me know if you change your mind. Remember, the barbershops won’t be open tomorrow.”
Cooper sighed as he pulled the Jeep into the driveway. He would rush into a burning building or dive into a sea full of sharks to save his son. But this constant battle of wills was wearing him down. Sooner or later something would have to break. He could only hope the change would be for the good.
At least things had gone all right with Jess today. But her manner had made it clear that any involvement with him and his son was professional, not personal. Too bad. It was hard to watch her sitting across from him, sharing the pizza, without wondering how she would feel in his arms, and how those soft lips would taste against his.
But a Branding Iron romance wasn’t in the cards. He was here for his son, and nothing else could be allowed to distract him—not even the gorgeous, mysterious woman who haunted his fantasies.
* * *
At work in the small school district, Jess usually spent her mornings at the high school, her afternoons at the middle school, and was on call as needed for the two elementary schools. This was her second year in Branding Iron, and she liked her job. But how long she would stay remained to be seen.
Yesterday, a Monday, she’d arrived at Branding Iron Middle School during the lunch hour and had taken a walk down the main hallway. She’d noticed Trevor, dressed all in black with his hair hanging in his face, leaning against a bank of lockers—all alone. Had he even eaten lunch? Or had he been too afraid that nobody would sit with him?
She knew better than to single him out. The last thing he’d want was to be seen talking to an adult, especially the adult in charge of problem kids.
In the school office, she checked her mailbox for any reports on students. There were some routine slips, but nothing that involved Trevor. As she recalled from the comments on his record, he was never disruptive in class. His acting out mostly took place after school hours.
Today, a Tuesday, Jess arrived about the same time as usual, when the hall was crowded with students. At first, she didn’t see Trevor. Then she spotted him, walking between two ninth-grade boys. They were laughing and joking with him. He looked almost happy.
But this wasn’t a good sign. The boys, Skip McCoy and Cody LeFevre, were known troublemakers who’d been on report so many times that Jess knew their records from memory. They wouldn’t have befriended a young loner like Trevor unless they were planning to take advantage of him in some way.
It might be wise to alert Cooper to the situation. But right now she was scheduled to administer a standardized test to the seventh-graders—also part of her job description. She needed to set up the room before the students arrived. Besides, the last time she’d spoken with Cooper, he was still trying to get a home phone installed. He might have had a cell in Seattle, but there was no service in Branding Iron or even in Cottonwood Springs. For now, the problem would have to wait.
* * *
Cooper had spent most of the day in Cottonwood Springs, arranging for the internet service that was vital to his work. After years in Seattle, he hadn’t realized how complicated some things could be. But by early afternoon the landline phone and internet installation had been arranged for the end of the week, the earliest date that was open. Hungry, he wolfed down a drive-in burger and headed home to Branding Iron. He wanted to be there when Trevor came home.
Cottonwood Springs and Branding Iron were connected by a two-lane paved road. The road ran through the outskirts of Branding Iron with a connection to Main Street and continued south, through open country dotted with farms and ranches.
Lost in thought and enjoying the clear October day, Cooper was ten minutes past Branding Iron before he realized he’d missed the turnoff that would take him home. He was headed south, away from the town.
He was watching for a wide spot on the shoulder where he could make a U-turn, when he saw the hand-lettered sign:
