Second Chances (3 page)

“Daddy, park at the barn when we get home.
I wanna’ go check on her.” Con sat up and looked out the side window as he pulled into the long gravel drive. 

“No, Sirs. You’re grounded. Remember?” Grey cringed as he heard his poppa Jake’s voice in h
is head. “No barn, no puppies and no television.”

“Awe, man!”
Car bounced his head against the back of his booster seat in protest.

“You should have thought about that before you two climbed
up that old, dead tree after we told you not to.” Grey really needed to get on to Matt about cutting that thing down. With the livestock convention in Billings and getting the feed barn rebuilt after a freak fire had all but destroyed it, there hadn’t been time.

“But what if she has the puppies before we’re done being grounded? Can w
e still see em’?” Con pleaded.

“We’ll see how well you behave and talk about it if it happens. You’re only grounded un
til Saturday. She might hold out until then.”

“We’re never gonna be done with being grounded,” Car po
uted. “Saturday is for-e-ver!”

Grey smirked as he pulled up and parked his
super cab Ford F-250 pickup near the front of their farmhouse. Yeah, he remembered the feeling. He and his younger twin brothers, Mason and Matt, spent what felt like for-e-ver being grounded, too, when they were that age. He helped the boys down from the truck and shook his head as they stomped up the porch stairs and through the front door. He was expecting to hear the screen door slam but Con turned just as it was closing and quietly latched it, his bottom lip still stuck out in a pout.

“What’s got them all in a snit?” Matt a
sked, lowering the stack of two-by-fours from his shoulder and loading them into the back of Grey’s truck.

“Grounded,” Grey supplied.

Short, sweet and to the point. That was Grey. Lately he’d been just plain grumpy, though. Matt wondered what or who was stuck up his ass today. “What’d they do this time?”

“You should know, you were there plucking them out of that tree
with me.” Grey reminded his younger brother. Matt should know. Car was just like him. Connor was a little quieter, slower and tended to follow Car’s lead like a horse on a bit. That
bit
usually got them both into a heap of trouble.

“Give em
’ a break, bro. They were just bein’ boys.” Matt slapped Grey on the back and bounded up the front steps ahead of him. “We’ve gotten into worse scrapes than those two could ever come up with. Remember the time we tried to carry that bee’s nest down to the lake to drown em’? We were younger than they are now. I thought mom would never stop cryin’, and the dad’s….”

“Exactly!”
Grey shot back without missing a beat or a step as he continued on into the house. “One or all of us could have died from anaphylactic shock if we had been allergic. Those dead branches could go at any time and those boys could break their neck.  When are you going to start acting like an adult and take on some of the responsibility around here? We need to cut that damn tree down for good.”

Unoffended,
Matt reached into the fridge and grabbed two beers, shoving one out to his older brother. “Coulda, shoulda, woulda,” he snickered. “If we lived like that, countin’ all the ways things can go wrong, we’d never have any fun in life. We lived through it.”

Matt watched Grey closely as he sipped his beer. He was talking about more than j
ust bees and dead trees and his big brother knew it. Grey had all but given up on living any kind of normal life. He’d shut himself away after Sarah’s death, barely letting even the boys get close. Oh, he loved those boys. Matt had no doubts about that, but they could all see the way he lived in a cage, afraid if he let life in or attempted to live outside the bars, he would lose it all.

They all loved and missed Sarah, but he knew she would have never wanted to see Grey this way. Hell, she’
s the one that taught them in order to have fun you had to get a little messy. ‘
Life is messy. If it isn’t, then you’re not doing it right’
.

“Don’t matter,” Grey barked
. “They don’t listen, they don’t get to play.”

“They’re
six
, Grey. Six! I know you didn’t listen to a damn thing our parents said when you were six.”

“And
I spent nearly that whole year in my room, grounded from anything but homework and chores.” Grey took another pull from his beer and leaned against the kitchen cabinet. “Where’s Mason?”

“Out stackin’ the last of the hay the hands brought in from the east
pasture. He should be finished up in about an hour. We
were
goin’ to make a run down to the creek with the boys, but I guess that’s out of the question now, since that’s too close to havin’
fun
.” Matt knew he was pushing Grey. Someone had to.

“You’d be right.”
Grey gulped down the rest of his beer and sat it down with a thud onto the counter, then headed down the hall toward his bedroom. “What time’s dinner?”

Matt studied his back as he disappeared down the hall
, wondering how far he should push the issue. “
Six,”
he finally said with a grunt and chucked his own empty bottle into the kitchen trash. “
Betty Crocker
couldn’t make it again so I’m stuck peelin’ potatoes!” He shouted in the general direction Grey had fled. “First I gotta’ get that lumber out to the feed shed and covered up before it rains again.”

Grey didn’t follow up with the usual smart-ass reply
and Matt shook his head as he headed back toward the front door. He was going to get through to that man if it was the last thing he did.
Who does he
think
is going to cook the damn dinner?
Grey hadn’t touched a pot or pan in nearly six damn years.

With a hu
ff, Matt stormed out the front door, walked around to the side of the house where the twin’s bedroom was and looked up. It’d been a long time, but he bet he could still scale a drain pipe. He tossed his Stetson onto a nearby tree stump, spit into his palms and rubbed them together. Within seconds he was tapping on the twin’s window, pushing his finger to his lips when they screeched with laughter at his sudden appearance. “Shh. Don’t want ya’ gettin’ in any more trouble today.” He loved his boys. He knew Grey was right about holding them accountable for their actions. Probably wasn’t the best idea showin’ them how to climb out their second story window, but Grey was being
adult
enough for all of them. He wanted to go swimmin’ with his boys.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Claira dismissed her cl
ass just as the clock ticked one minute past three. Her little chat with Principal Dawes that morning had gone just about as she had expected, except he hadn’t fired her.
This is a private academy, Miss Robbins. We expect a higher level of participation from our students, Miss Robbins. We don’t tolerate diversity as other schools might, Miss Robbins. Structure is of the utmost importance, Miss Robbins.
She’d kind of liked her new name when Marshal Gregory had first given her the new identification. Now, she’d be happy if she never heard her last name again, ever.

She was still a little shell shocked. She’d tossed and turned all night, which was nothing
new really, except her dreams hadn’t been plagued with violence and death. Instead she found herself haunted by those green eyes. The more she thought about Mr. McLendon’s reaction the more she was sure that she would be jobless as of seven thirty one this morning.

At one point she had convinced herself that she had seen passion in his gaze, even if only for a bre
ath of a second. That fantasy didn’t last long.
Projection
101
.
Just because I wanted him to doesn’t mean he actually did.
Those desires were completely foreign to her, having spent her life keeping everyone at arm’s length, where they belonged. But oh, how it would feel to have those big, strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her safe. Maybe even loving her?
It can’t happen, silly girl. Give it up.

She had never allowed herself a passionate connection to anything o
ther than her job. She wasn’t a virgin….
barely
. She’d had her first and only sexual experience in her first year of college with a boy she’d known since third grade. They were both virgins and the whole experience was awkward and somewhat painful, at best. Shortly afterward he’d disappeared, literally. State police combed the surrounding counties for weeks but found nothing. Claira knew. Just like everyone else she’d ever loved or cared for, she knew he had been ‘
dealt with’.
Since then, Claira had bottled her desires and kept all her hopes and dreams of having a family of her own to herself. Until recently she’d all but forgotten she’d even had desires or dreams.

“Daddy Matt!”
Car yelled out as he ran from his cubby with his shoes in his hands and leapt into the outstretched arms of the best looking man Claira had seen since….yesterday. Dear God! What did they put in the water in this town?

He was nearly the same height as Mr. McLendon, with the same broad shoulders, but that’s where the similarities ended.
Where, Mr. McLendon was dark and brooding, with nearly black hair, this new Adonis had sandy brown hair that looked as though it had been kissed by the sun and licked by the wind. He was built solid, but not bulky. The thin, plaid button-up strained against his biceps as he lifted the boy into his arms. She followed the line of buttons up to an open V at his collar and swallowed hard against the knot in her throat as she noticed the deeply tanned skin that peeked out from under that V. Her eyes, which seemed to have developed a will of their own, traveled up his thick, corded neck. His sharp jawline and narrow, straight nose accentuated his round and playful eyes which were the color of a hot blue flame. She tried to swallow again but her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth.

“Hey, Car-Car!
What happened to your shoes there, buddy?” Matt sat Carson down and looked up to locate Connor. Instead, his gaze locked onto the image of an angel. Every ounce of blood in his body pooled in his groin and the hair on the back of his neck prickled against his skin.
Who is that?

“That’s Miss
Robbins,” Conner said as he hopped across the room on one foot, his finger stuck into the back of his shoe as he pulled it onto his foot. “She’s our new teacher while Mrs. Wittington is out with her new baby.”

Matt looked at Con and then back to the angel.
Did I actually ask that out loud?

“Yes,” Claira answered in nearly a whisper.

Matt’s head whipped around. “Yes, what?” He had a feeling the room was going to start spinning at any moment.

C
laira giggled, her eyes falling to the floor to hide her own embarrassment. “Yes,” she said again as she turned and paced toward the blackboard, picking up the eraser. “Yes, you asked that out loud.” She knew she was ten shades of red and hiding her face against the blackboard was her only hope of him not noticing.

Matt shook his head. What was happening to him? He usually had no problems talking to women. He and Mason
, and well, Grey too for that matter, hadn’t exactly joined the priesthood since Sarah had passed away, but he’d never actually been so taken by a woman that he lost the capacity to hold a coherent thought to himself before. “Sorry,” he said as he walked over and leaned into the blackboard, trying to see her face. “I’m Matt McLendon.” He held out his hand, hoping like hell she’d take it. He needed to touch her.

Her arm froze above her head. W
ith the eraser in hand, Claira turned and studied his hand. Big. His hand was beautifully masculine, callused even, and she didn’t want to take it. If his touch ignited even half the sparks inside her as his playful eyes had, she’d burn down the school. A sudden flash of a scene from
Carrie
plagued her thoughts. They’d surely fire her then.

She couldn’t be rude. Instea
d she lowered her arm and placed the eraser into his hand. “Claira Robbins,” she tried to say but only a scratchy, croak whispered past her lips. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Claira…

“Claira.”
Matt rolled the name around on his tongue, surprised that it didn’t twist his gut, being so close to ‘
Sarah’.
“What a pretty name.”

He dropped the eraser onto her desk and took her hand. Heat weaved its way through her arm and flowed straight to her core.
Her sudden intake of breath only gave her a saturating whiff of his masculine scent. Pine and cool water, and something infinitely more male filled her senses.

“My
son’s neglected to tell me they had a new teacher with such a pretty name.”

Claira’s brows furrowed.
His
sons? “Oh,” she giggled as understanding filtered its way into her lust ravaged brain; remembering the first Mr. McLendon. “I’m sorry. I met a Mr. McLendon yesterday and I thought he…”