Authors: Liz Adair
Tags: #Romance, second chance, teacher, dyslexia, Pacific Northwest, Cascade Mountains, lumberjack, bluegrass, steel band,
“I’m so glad you did.” Mandy sighed. “You’re making a habit of showing up at bad times. It’s a nice habit.”
“So, why did you run away yesterday?” Grange asked.
She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, it’s so embarrassing.”
“I told you my embarrassing story,” he reminded her.
She told him how she thought he was selling moonshine to support the music program, and when she finished, Grange threw back his head and laughed.
“That cracks me up,” he said, “but it doesn’t explain why you ran.”
“I had just discovered that— that my heart was taken, too. By you. And there you were, making yourself totally ineligible. I think that’s what I was running away from. I was heartsick.”
Grange chuckled and pulled her closer as they turned into the high school parking lot.
WHEN THEY PULLED
into the parking lot, Leesie hollered, ran over, and hopped up on the running board. “Oh, Mandy! I’ve been worried sick! And Mother’s having heart flutters.”
“Mother? Is she here?”
“You didn’t forget!”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Mandy said.
“I see.” Leesie looked at Grange and grinned. “But imagine, Mandy. It was Fran that was doing all those things to you!”
“All what things? I know she just conked me on the head. What else?”
“The fire. The wheel that fell off. The poison. All of it.”
“Fran? Our Fran? Oh, I don’t— ” All of a sudden Mandy remembered looking out Fran’s kitchen window and wondering at the discrepancy in her story. “How do you know this, Leesie?”
“Doc MacDonald brought her in. You weren’t here, so he told Mother and me all about it. Oh, Mandy, it’s such a mystery! She used to work for Poppy!”
“No. That was her sister.”
“That’s what Fran said, but it wasn’t true. Fran worked for Poppy, and she embezzled a bunch of money and went to prison for it. Mother remembers her. Apparently she was one of Poppy’s favorite people until she was caught.”
Mandy blinked. As she tried to process the alien information, she heard a familiar voice calling her name.
“Mother?” She sat up and looked around.
“Over here,” Leesie called to their mother.
Clara Wheeler made her way through the crowd. Tall and slender, with dark brown eyes, and prematurely gray hair piled on top of her head, she was an eye-catching figure. “Oh, Mandy,” she said. “What have you got yourself mixed up in?” Her eyes shifted to Grange’s bearded face and back to her daughter.
Mandy rose to her knees and hugged her mother over the side of the pickup bed. “This is Grange, Mother. He’s my— ”
Grange broke in. “Fiancé, ma’am.”
“Not yet,” Mandy said, but no one paid attention to her protestations.
Leesie clapped her hands. “That’s such good news! Oh, Mother, isn’t that the coolest?”
“This is all too much!” Mrs. Wheeler said. “First that awful woman, and now this!”
“Fran? Have you seen her, Mother?” Mandy asked.
“Yes, and she doesn’t look a thing like the Fran Porter I knew. She was fat and had thick glasses and buck teeth. I never would have recognized her.”
“I guess that could be changed with braces, contacts, and a diet,” Mandy mused. “She was always counting carbs.”
Leesie explained. “When she rented the house to Mandy Steenburg, she didn’t know it was Poppy Wheeler’s daughter. It wasn’t until I came that she found out. When she knew you were coming up, Mother, she did everything she could to convince Mandy to leave, so there would be no chance that you would see and recognize her.”
“Well, you didn’t help,” Mandy said to Leesie. “She thought Poppy was coming, too, since you insist on talking as if he is still alive.”
“I heard she blew a hole in the dike last night,” Leesie said.
“Was that her? Lovey thought it might be Vince.”
“Who’s Lovey?” Leesie asked.
“Who’s Vince?” Mrs. Wheeler asked.
Grange rose to kneel by Mandy and put his arm around her. “I think I may be the reason Fran blew the dike. When she left my house, she said something about making things uncomfortable for you. It was pure spite, the same reason she knocked you out and dumped you in the woods.”
“Speaking of Vince,” Grange went on, nodding toward the parking lot entrance where the Escalade was just pulling in. “You need to talk to him, you know.”
“That’s Vince?” Mrs. Wheeler eyed the SUV speculatively.
Mandy turned and looked into Grange’s eyes. “I love you, Grange Timberlain. What a generous thing to say.” Then she kissed him on the mouth, a long, lingering, expressive kiss in a most public place.
“Mandy!” Clara Wheeler protested.
Mandy kept her arms around his neck, but turned to look at her mother and grinned. “He looks a little rough and rustic right now, Mother, but he cleans up real good.”
“Really, Mandy! What’s become of you?”
She laughed. “Wait until you see what’s become of Leesie.” Mandy stood and pulled Grange up beside her. Patting his cheek, she said, “I’m going to go talk to him right now.” She looked around until she spotted Vince, standing by his car, staring grimly at her. She waved, climbed out of the pickup bed, and made her way toward him.
He met her halfway. She held out both her hands, and he took them, looking intently down at her. “Doc told me what happened. Are you all right?”
“Yes, I am.” When Vince continued staring, she repeated, “I’m fine. Come and walk with me.” She tugged on his hand, and he followed her to the edge of the parking lot.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re just walking. I want to talk to you, and I need more privacy.”
“That doesn’t sound good. You’ll kiss Grange in front of everyone, but you need privacy to talk to me?”
Mandy didn’t answer at first. They walked past Mutt Maypole’s house, and she guided their progress around the corner before she spoke. “It isn’t good, Vince. I won’t say I wasn’t attracted to you. I was. You’re very… very, very attractive. I was flattered and very attracted to you.” She glanced up at him.
He stared straight ahead, and a muscle in his jaw stood out. “You’ve said you were attracted three times. Was it nothing more than that?”
“Yes, it was. I admire you. I think you’re an outstanding individual. I— ”
Vince stopped and turned her to face him. “But not love? You’ve said nothing about love.”
“Love, yes,” Mandy said gently. “But not in the way you want, Vince.”
He turned his face away.
“Let’s take this road,” she said. Tucking her arm in his, she drew him around another corner so they were heading back in the direction of the high school.
They walked silently. Once, Vince cleared his throat, and another time he wiped something from his eye. It wasn’t until she stopped that he spoke. “Don’t say anything, Mandy. I couldn’t take the ‘Let’s just be friends’ speech right now.”
“I wasn’t going to do that. I want you to talk to someone.”
“Not right now. I couldn’t— ”
“I think this is just the time,” Mandy insisted, leading him up a walkway.
He hung back. “I know whose house this is.”
“But you don’t know what she’s going to say.” Mandy led him to the porch and knocked on the door.
Granny Timberlain answered so promptly that Mandy knew she must have seen their approach. “Good morning, Granny,” she began. “I think this is the time for you to talk to Vince.”
“It’s too little, too late,” he said bitterly.
Granny looked at him affectionately. “My dear, we have all suffered because Buck made bad choices. I kept my distance because your mother chose not to acknowledge the Timberlain connection. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love you from afar.”
Vince’s lip curled. “How could you do that?”
“Would you like to see? I have a scrapbook full of things about you.” She reached out and took him by the hand. “Come in.”
As Granny drew him into her living room, Mandy stepped back. “I’ll leave you two to have some private time together.”
Just before the door closed, Vince sent her one last, beseeching look. That look shadowed her all the way back to the high school. But the sun broke through the clouds— the steel band was in full swing, and Mandy caught a glimpse of her mother with her hands in the air, grooving to the beat in the parking lot, along with half the county. Mandy laughed out loud and went to join her.
THE AFTERNOON WAS
a busy, joyous affair. Mandy watched as students managed everything from parking to tech support, and Grange was the hub around which all the organization revolved. Often during the day, she caught sight of him listening intently to something a student was saying or giving directions for something that needed to be done, and invariably he would sense her gaze, look up, and their eyes would meet. It never failed to send her pulse racing.
As she and her mother wandered from one venue to another, Mandy introduced her to Millie Barlow and Edith Berman, as well as Midge Cooley, Nettie Maypole, Tammy, Mrs. Reilly, and a host of other people in the district. When it came time for Leesie’s group to play, Mrs. Wheeler leaned over and said, “Enchanting. What kind of grass did you say this is?”
At seven in the evening, Mandy and her mother found seats in the gym to watch a group called the Dusty Millers. Mandy was surprised to see Rael tuning up and even more so when Mo walked onstage with his mandolin. When Lovey appeared, there was a ripple of applause and conversation, and Mandy clapped enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd, explaining to her mother the story of Lovey and Rael. There was polite applause when the fiddler and the fellow playing standup bass appeared, but when Grange walked out with his banjo, everyone stomped and cheered.
Wesley Gallant walked out onto the stage and held up his hands. When the audience quieted, he took the microphone. “As a member of the school board, I have an announcement to make. Grange Timberlain is leaving North Cascade School District.”
Mandy’s jaw dropped, and a babble of consternation swept around the auditorium. Wesley held up his hands again. “But— ” he waited for the talking to cease “— but he’s not leaving Limestone. He is to be the first director of the Sister Ethelberta Educational Foundation, which has been set up to foster academics through music.”
“Who’s Sister Ethelberta?” Mrs. Wheeler asked, leaning close to Mandy.
“She’s a nun. I’ll tell you about it later.”
“The school board is in hopes that Dr. Steenburg will stay on with us and work in tandem with Grange to make sure North Cascade stays on the cutting edge of this process.”
Mandy felt her cheeks grow warm as the crowd roared its approval. Grange caught her eye and winked.
“And now,” Wesley continued. “Let’s celebrate this occasion with music. Ladies and gentlemen, the Dusty Millers!”
Grange set the pace with the banjo, picking furiously on a swinging, uptempo song that set Clara Wheeler’s toe tapping. “I didn’t know he played the banjo,” she said to Mandy.
Mandy’s “I didn’t either” made her mother raise her eyebrows.
Leesie slipped into a chair by her mother and leaned over to Mandy. “Have you seen Willow?” When Mandy shook her head, Leesie pointed to where her friend stood against the wall, smiling, clapping in rhythm, and wearing a red shirt.
The piece ended with a flourish, and Grange stepped to the microphone. “Here’s a song I wrote a week or so ago, and I’d like to dedicate it to a particular lady. She knows who she is.” He played eight bars of introduction to get the rest of the band on board and then began to sing in a full baritone, looking directly at Mandy.
I met a little gal on the way to school.
Her hair was curly and her eyes was brown.
She made me feel like a clumsy fool.
You know I ain’t never been to town.
But, I love her like a mule a-kickin’.
Love her more than banjo pickin’.
More than Granny’s Sunday chicken,
You know I love that Sweetiebug
.
I know she’d never look at me,
Though she flirts with all the other guys.
I’m just a Tarheel, don’t you see?
But when I see her, my heart cries: