River's Return (River's End Series, #3) (10 page)

Spontaneously, Shane reached over and touched her cheek with the pad of his thumb. She was staring down at the slim book in front of her and jerked her face up at his unexpected caress. Her eyes widened in surprise, and he withdrew his hand. “This is why you teach, isn’t it? I never had a clue why anyone would sign up to babysit twenty or thirty kids all day long, five days a week.  But now I think I get it. It’s a feeling you get, isn’t it? Opening a door to someone that could truly change how she sees the world. And her entire future. I mean… I just think this is so cool; and it’s really amazing what you can do.”

Her eyes remained fastened on him and he began blushing before dropping his gaze to his knees. He rarely made such heartfelt, emotional, and wussy statements to a woman.

Her voice was soft when she replied, “Yes. A lot of it is that. But you have to remember: that doesn’t happen very often. You don’t always get such clear compensation; or see what you’re doing in baby steps will have such profound effects for the big picture. I mean, most students in my classes just learn what I teach and go on to the next grade. I don’t get to see their overall progress. But this? This is an emotional adventure; it’s knowing what you’re doing each time really matters and makes a huge difference. That’s why I often volunteer my services to tutor the adults through the library. Most of them are troubled since English is their second language, but I think what I teach them is meaningful to their lives in general.” She smiled again and pushed some stray strands of hair behind her ear.

“When are you starting with Erin?”

“Tomorrow. She began waffling when I talked to her about two hours ago, but I don’t intend to let her. So… where are you headed? Why’d you stop in here?” Her eyebrows lowered with skepticism at his anticipated answer.

With a casual shrug, he stretched his legs out. “Thought I might grab dinner at the café. Worked all day, and when I came out, I realized the whole family was gone. Then I saw all your lights on and that’s why I stopped. Is that okay? I mean, we’re friends now, right? I can stop by?”

“Friends?” Her eyes widened just enough to reveal her surprise, or was it disdain? He’d seen both feelings in her facial expressions often enough to recognize them.

“Yeah, sure. Why not?”

“I guess, I mean, you’re right, why not? I had linguini earlier, and there’re some leftovers. It’s pasta and no meat; want some?”

His stomach growled in hunger. “Yeah, sure, of course. If you don’t mind.”

Jumping to her feet, Allison went into the kitchen and grabbed a dish from the fridge. After she served up his helping, she began heating it in the microwave. “You said you worked today? What did you do?”

She looked over at him, waiting politely for his answer to her innocuous question. He leaned against the kitchen table, crossing his arms over his chest. When was the last time anyone asked him what he worked on? He never discussed his work with anyone. And, of course, he didn’t always work. He assumed his older brothers just got tired of hearing his lame excuses, so years ago, they just quit asking him. But now it felt kind of nice to be asked, especially after the day he had. He was pretty psyched over what he created and tweaked to repair the Ford. He was stoked over how it turned out.

“I finished up a pretty tough fit for a new exhaust system that I installed in an older model Ford truck. I plan to keep it looking old, but make it run like new, and also faster and more comfortable. So finding the right parts and making them work is kind of like trying to fit a square into a triangle. Eventually, I managed to design something else, but it took all day.”

She tilted her head, and the microwave dinged. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he shrugged. Grabbing the reheated meal with a potholder over her hand, she brought the steaming plate over to the table before taking a glass out and pouring some milk in it. She absently set it beside his plate, and Shane could only think,
When was the last time someone poured his milk?
Probably when Jack’s wife, Lily, was still alive. She accepted responsibility for his care and upbringing after his real mom died.
Huh.
He raised his eyebrows at the milk, but she was already busy putting the potholders away.

“Are you talented at this work you do? Do you insist on doing a good job, or just blow through it?”

“I never blow through my work. If I fix something shoddy, or half-assed it could break. I’d hate to think of that happening when someone is driving their family around, or a poor farmer is working on his tractor. I’d never do that.”

She nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Do you rely on instructions to do it?”

He snickered before swallowing a forkful of pasta. The sauce was so good, it nearly melted over his tongue. “’Course not.” His curt tone revealed his offense at her question.

“You seem to like that, you know, what you just did, restoring old machines, not just fixing them temporarily. Why don’t you turn your shop into one that cherries out old muscle cars or bikes? Retro is huge nowadays and people will pay well if it’s done really well. You already have the know-how, so why not? You know, build your brand name up:
Rydell Rides
. It’s a pretty catchy name. No one else in this valley is doing that.”

He lowered the fork and stared at her for a long moment. “No, you’re right; no one else is.” He frowned, as he further considered what she was saying. “You think I should design my own brand?”

She shrugged. “I don’t dare venture a guess; I’m only suggesting. But you seem happier today than I think I’ve ever seen you.”

“I’m happy all the time. Every single day. How can you say that?”

She shrugged again and replied, “Okay, then, satisfied. You appear self-satisfied.”

He didn’t know why he was arguing with Allison or even cared what she thought of him or what he did. For the past fifteen years, Shane didn’t care what
anyone
thought of him, or what he did. Why did this thirty-one-year-old teacher with opposing life goals and polar opposite tastes and opinions mean anything to him?

“It is a catchy name,” he finally said with a grin. She shook her head, but he glimpsed her small grin in response.

He nodded his head toward the meal, saying, “You didn’t tell me you were such a good cook.”

She came closer and sat in a dining room chair across from him. “Yes. I like to fiddle around and experiment. It’s not much fun cooking for myself, however, so I don’t do it much anymore.”

“For your husband? Is that who you used to cook for?”

Her gaze narrowed on him. “Why do you ask?”

He had a pretty good inkling
why:
she was divorced, and that was also why all the Celia/Jett stuff bothered her so much.

“Just ‘cause I know the signs. For how long?”

She sighed and picked up a stray pencil she found on the table before twirling it between her fingers. “Seven years.”

He winced. “Longer than I would have ever guessed. How did he manage to technically cheat without it being his fault?”

Her gaze lifted and she stared out the back sliding door at the darkness. The occasional outside yard lights shone like tiny pinpricks, peppered up and down the otherwise dark landscape. “By the time he started to cheat, there wasn’t anything left to salvage. We killed it long before that. He buried it. I cremated it.”

“You keep saying ‘we’ like you were responsible for it too.”

Her sad smile and unseeing gaze conveyed some regret. “
We
pretty much says it all. We were both at fault for not nurturing each other and our marriage.”

He was staring at her. “That doesn’t seem like you. Not at all. I see you as a total nurturer. That seems like, well… more like me. Or someone like me. When were you ever careless, or negligent in taking care of whatever needed tending?”

She seemed to bristle. “That’s a very long story, Shane, and unfortunately, one I don’t want to talk about tonight. Okay?”

“’Course,” he replied, but he couldn’t let it go. He wanted to say something more, and with concentrated effort, kept his mouth shut. That was so unlike him. When did he ever care about anyone’s history, or past, or hurt feelings, or reason for being wherever they were? He just accepted people at face value and interacted accordingly, but remained in the present. The now. The here. He never asked Celia why she married Jett, or why she started cheating on him. He didn’t ask what she thought about, or how she felt about anything. How strange that the one woman he did ask, turned out to be one he wasn’t sleeping with.

He finished eating and took the plate to the sink, waving her aside as he rinsed it and put it in her dishwasher. Then he followed her out to the living room and sat down on the couch. She tucked her legs beneath her and sat on one of the side chairs. “You can go back to what you were doing. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

She hesitated, but he could see her eagerness as she eyed the new materials before her. It wasn’t often Shane hung out with a woman who found reading materials more exciting than him. Then again, he usually hung out with women strictly for sex, not for their company. He flicked the TV on after she absent-mindedly consented. Stretching out, he got comfortable and watched a reality show about restoring old muscle cars. This time, however, it was a little different. He was thinking and wondering… did Allison have a good point? Rydell Rides was such a cool name. And he was excellent when he applied himself… but then again, the thought of being tied to something so permanent, which, if it failed, would come back on him, kept haunting his mind.

He decided to give it more thought, but later. It was strangely pleasant sitting there in Allison’s house. Small, cozy and so feminine, it was not how he’d have decorated it, but he still liked how homey it made him feel. She worked away at the coffee table, and every so often, he noticed her looking up at the show. He smiled. She seemed to be interested in every subject and probably liked learning about anything and everything, even adapting the parts of a four-wheel-drive truck to pimp out an old eighties van.

When he noticed her yawning, he finally realized it was time for him to go. But he found it hard to tear himself away. It was just so damn comfortable, on her couch. And in her house. Mostly because of her company. He got up and ruffled her bangs on her forehead as he passed her. She scowled, but immediately smiled at his gesture.

“Tomorrow then? Erin? Make sure you see me when you’re done, okay? I want to know how it goes, and knowing her, she won’t say.”

He could tell his inquiry pleased her. “I will. Even if I disturb you at work?”

He nodded. Whoever worried about disturbing him at work? No one, not even he, gave “his work” much credence or importance, but her dang tone of voice sure did.

Why was he so pleased whenever he thought about tomorrow? He paused to acknowledge a sudden, light feeling that filled his heart. What was that about? Working tomorrow? On a Sunday? Or seeing his friend, Allison? It seemed kind of cool to be friends with the town’s most popular school teacher. None of the teachers actually lived in River’s End, none but Allison. The rest were from outlying areas. She was respected, cared about, and admired. All the things Shane wasn’t. So being her friend? Really kind of awesome.

Who cares if he felt far more of an attraction toward her than he had in any woman for the last ten years? They were just friends. That made her an anomaly in his life. And also just about the most interesting thing in it.

Chapter Six

ALLISON SPENT A SOLID two hours with Erin for her first lesson. She started slowly, explaining the system and the routine they’d be following. She told her about each step of the program and where each lesson would lead them. It was a very methodical system based on spelling rules and patterns. The lower levels relied intensively on phonics in case any gaps existed before the real learning began. Erin scoffed at first, and fumbled with the basic pre-preschool lessons. Twice Allison had to convince her to come back to the table after she got up and threatened to stomp off. Allison was warned the first two levels could be the most difficult for some dyslexics to handle, even though to most adults, it seemed like child’s play. But not when you have zero phonemic awareness, as she believed Erin did.

After going through three lessons from the first level and finding a huge success, Allison felt a profound sense of accomplishment and relief. She wasn’t wrong. Erin
could
do it. Even if Erin bristled because the start of the program was indignant to her age, it was precisely the core foundation she was missing. Allison closed the front door and leaned back against it, shaking her head. Little Erin as a child really never had a chance. Allison heaved a sigh of relief at knowing she was on the right path to help Erin.

Erin was exhausted. She would continue to be until she started to trust Allison and believe the program was something that could work. Allison, however was quite confident that it was definitely going to work, even if Erin wasn’t convinced. It was only a matter of time and persistence, building confidence through each lesson, and eventually teaching Erin how to decode words. She had no skills yet, and Allison was anxious to provide all of them for her.

Allison rushed down the front porch steps. The ranch lay before her, dotted with distant outbuildings, neatly fenced-off fields, and colorful horses everywhere. Off in the distance, the river swirled through the valley, reflecting and refracting the afternoon sunlight on its surface. Across the river and up a steep bank stood a lone row of houses, one of which was hers, perched atop it. She could just make out the end of her yard, looking small and doll-like from where she stood. It was a truly spectacular spot on the earth. Allison found it so peaceful and restful with the warm sun’s rays on her body, and the rich scenery all around her.

Shane.
He said she was supposed to find him. She hesitated before walking beyond her car towards the diverse outbuildings. She never explored much beyond the perimeter of their large, log home.  It was easy to determine which were the horse barns as well as some of the smaller sheds and storage buildings. She easily recognized Shane’s shop. It was gigantic too, a long, metal building with a couple of garage doors on the front. As she got closer, she could hear the sound of clanging and loud music playing. It was some kind of head-blasting rock music.
Shane
. There was no doubt in her mind; and a small smile curled her lips as she lifted a hand to bang against one of the side doors. No answer. He probably couldn’t hear over all the racket.

She pushed on the door and entered the building. It was a large, cavernous space with high ceilings in which florescent lighting flickered, making it kind of dim and shadowy in spots. Several cars were lined up, back-to-back with various, unnamed parts of tractors, motors, miscellaneous farm equipment, and other odd metal pieces that Allison could never identify.

“Shane?” she yelled into the large space. The smell of metal, gas, oil, dust and other icky odors assaulted her nose.

His head popped out from under the vehicle, which was hoisted up on a lift. He grinned when he saw her and jumped to his feet in a lithe movement that surprised her, considering his height and bulk. Wearing a bandanna that pushed his hair back, a ripped up shirt, and jeans, he had streaks of grease and oil covering every inch of him. His hands were coated black. He seemed like the kind of man who literally immersed himself in his work. She instantly gathered he had to be very hands on, not just someone who tinkered idly, but a man that saturated himself in whatever job he was doing. His hair was a long ponytail, as always, and she didn’t fail to miss his biceps when they bunched and undulated as he reached up high to turn the music down. His colorful tattoos were bright and she felt a flush of heat rising in her chest and climbing up to her face. There was something so masculine about Shane Rydell. Every inch of him was unlike her, and for some reason, that attracted her, as well as repelled her.

He turned back towards her, wiping his hands on a filthy, but once white shop rag. “Hey, teacher… how’d it go?” His eager expression, raised eyebrows, wide eyes and a small smile encouraged her to talk. She had to admit he didn’t react to her, or what she had to say the way she imagined. He seemed so interested in Erin and her journey, along with Allison’s role in it. Not something you’d expect from the biker-tough look Shane projected at first glance. His lazy, but charming smiles and looks hid what she was beginning to suspect was a deep love for his family. For some reason, he felt the need to run from them half the time, yet seemed disappointed when he suspected they were all slowly drifting apart. He was, in short, a complete contradiction to her.

“Good. Really, good. She’s pretty exhausted and annoyed with me. She doesn’t see how the work we’re doing will relate to reading, or result in better fluency, but it will. All of it will. I can feel it, Shane; this is really going to work.”

Shane soon had a huge, shit-eating grin. He shocked her by suddenly stepping forward, setting his hands on her waist and spinning her around. She felt like her feet were physically off the ground, and she was flying through the air in circles. Grabbing his shoulders for balance, she shrieked with surprise. But Shane was too busy grinning and whooping with glee.

“I damn well knew it. I knew you were the right answer. After listening to you a few times, I was positive you could help Erin.”

She couldn’t hide how she responded to him. She laughed as he displayed the unbridled enthusiasm she was too reserved and maybe even too stodgy to express. Not like Shane, or his full-bodied, bring-it-on, whooping around, and almost dancing kind of excitement. “Okay, okay. Now put me down. I’m just starting. It’s just a start.”

He was still smiling as he placed her back on her feet. He didn’t, however, step away from her, or drop his large hands from her waist. He was standing about a foot away from her and she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. At five-foot-seven, Allison rarely felt quite so petite near anyone. He made her feel diminutive, from her height to her weight, with his enormous body next to hers. It was a nice feeling, actually. Not many could make her feel that way. Standing in front of her, he tilted his head to look down, and his warm hands nearly smoldered, despite her clothes. The shop was suddenly taut with tension between them, and yet Shane didn’t let go, or step back, or even clear his throat.

It was, Allison realized in a split second, a
moment
. They were sharing an odd, surprising, and mutually shocking moment. Or at least, she was. Her gaze was fastened on his. His green eyes were bright and engaging. Shane was so full of life and energy and youth, and even though he was only a few years younger than she, he often seemed decades older. He never made her feel she was more mature or worldly than him, however. No. For Shane, every day was a new big, grand adventure, which, she had to admit, she found kind of intoxicating. Her pulse increased as well as her heart rate. But why? Was it Shane’s infectious excitement? Or… no, that would be too shocking and surprising. Was it from being so near to Shane?

Did he feel it too? An undeniable tug of something very close to attraction? The unfamiliar thought startled her and made her skin turn colors. She dropped her gaze until she was staring up and down the length of his body and trying to confine her vision to their feet. She tried to step back, out of his arms as discreetly and naturally as possible. His hands slid off her and she felt the loss immediately. His hands were warm and rather tender when he touched her. It made her heart flip over. Then he glanced down.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I forgot my hands were covered in grease. I hope I didn’t ruin your shirt or anything.” Holding up his very much blackened palms, he reminded her of a little boy apologizing earnestly to his mom for tracking mud through her house. There was something very
boyish
about Shane, in spite of his biker looks, occupation, and lifestyle. She rarely thought of him as a youthful, sweet person, although he acted that way quite often. She resisted the odd urge to step forward and cradle his hand in her own while reassuring him it was fine if he got her dirty. He just seemed so overly concerned about it. Looking down, she examined her white shirt and gray sweatshirt. She was a little reluctant to admit seeing streaks of, most likely, grease. His expression fell when he noticed them too. “Oh crap,” he muttered. “Sometimes, I don’t belong in civil company.”

There was something oddly self-conscious about his statement. She rarely witnessed Shane appearing self-conscious. His affair with Celia and Jett’s sudden presence didn’t make him that way, but this did? Being excited and forgetting himself wasn’t exactly tragic. It was really no big deal, yet he looked pissed off at himself.

She lifted her head and rolled her eyes. “Oh, Shane, it’s nothing. No big deal. I kind of felt like dancing around, myself. I just couldn’t act like this in front of Erin. I was so scared it wasn’t going to work. Or that it might have started out bad. I mean, I thought it was the right way to go… but I was so stressed, I so easily could have turned out to be wrong. She can’t handle any kind of
failure
, so I had to downplay how big this day actually was to me. And it was such a groundbreaking day in my eyes. So worthy of celebration. So I don’t care about a stupid sweatshirt. Not today.”

He grinned and replied, “Okay, then I’m not going to care either. Was she really able to do it?”

Allison stepped away and turned around as if inspecting the shop; but really, she was trying to catch her breath. Her reaction to Shane surprised her. It was not what she expected from Shane Rydell’s presence, considering just weeks ago, she nearly ground her teeth trying to ignore him. He previously seemed so arrogant and uncaring about all the things she considered critically important: children, education, and morality. She saw another side of Shane. She discovered he always left his house whenever his family wasn’t around to hang out with him. He seemed bummed out anytime they were gone… yet he was the very one who often chose to leave them.

He showed how much he cared about Charlie when she finally got her point across, but even stranger, and kind of inspiring, was the tenderness and care he showed for Erin, a woman whom he didn’t have to care about so much. Erin had only been his family for three years.

It was never what Allison expected after their first real meeting, when he swaggered so belligerently into her classroom. She certainly never expected to hang out with him on a Saturday night. Or to keep working while he just hung out there. But oddly enough, it was good. Really good, easy, and comfortable. She became totally aware of Shane whenever he got within a hundred feet of her.

“Really, Shane. I think you’ll get sick of me, and how much work I have ahead of me. She is really worried about imposing on me. Will you please try and convince her how excited I am to do this? You see it, right? I mean, do I appear resentful, as I would be if I considered her an imposition?”

“No, you seem like you finally belong to something. I saw the clinical side of you at the conference. I didn’t see anything like you are now, talking about this.” His tone was soft as it floated over her and his observations were astonishing… How did she ever assume he was just a meathead biker who knew nothing besides his bike for his entire life? She became kind of breathless while listening to his opinion about her.

She turned and saw him leaning against the fender of a car. His arms were crossed over his chest and a small, soft smile brightened his face. When was Shane ever soft? That adjective seemed more like anti-Shane. However, she could not deny how kind and tender he was with her.

“Did you really think I was impersonal? About Charlie?” Allison asked sincerely.

“No. Not with the kids. About how and what you teach. Don’t listen to me; it was probably from all my preconceived notions of school teachers. I never had a teacher like you. Or one that liked helping others; kids and adults alike. It really is kind of humbling and makes me ashamed almost. I never improved anyone else’s life or society, and I pretty much ignore most normal society standards and niceties. You must think I’m no more than an ignorant heathen.”

She smiled as she wandered around looking at some of the miscellaneous stuff strewn about. She had no idea what all the tools, and old, metal parts and engines were used for. “No. I never once believed you were ignorant. Your intelligence and wit show through no matter how abrasive I might have found you.”

“Abrasive? Yeah, I guess that would be me. I didn’t used to give a crap if I came off that way either.”

“And you do now?” Her incredulity must have shown in her expression. She stared up at him, looking dumbfounded. “Why the change?”

“You,” he said simply, before ducking his head. She found that a stretch to believe, and almost wondered if he were embarrassed with her.