Lessons from the Heart

“You’re welcome, Amber. Good night.” Erin picked up the child’s reading book they’d been using and carried it to the cupboard.

“Miss Kelly? Will you help me with this word? I don’t think it obeys the rules you taught me.”

Erin turned and smiled at the frustrated fourteen-year-old. “Sometimes words don’t obey rules, Janine. Let me see. Oh. You can do this one.” She put her hand on the teenager’s shoulder urging her forward. “Let’s go sit at the table and I’ll help you figure it out.”

Almost ten o’clock. Another long day. And she still had papers to correct. Erin dropped her shoulder bag on the couch, slid her feet out of her pumps and wiggled her toes into the carpet. Wonderful! What was it about taking your shoes off? She could almost purr.

Erin reached for the TV remote resting on the coffee table beside the framed picture of Alayne she’d requested for her birthday a few weeks ago. She picked up the picture and studied her sister’s face. Alayne was smiling in the photograph, but there was unhappiness in her eyes. Did she know about Jerry’s affair?

Erin frowned. If only she could talk with Alayne about it. If only she could talk to their mom and dad about it! But that was out of the question. The familiar sadness swept through her. Erin sighed, put down the picture, picked up the remote and clicked on the TV. All she could do was wait and make herself available.

Piano music filled the room. Erin sank down onto the couch closing her eyes as a voice started touting a concert in the city. What would it feel like to play like that?

“A Channel Four News exclusive! This is Robert Sheffield reporting live. Only minutes ago there was a shooting here on Humbard Street—”

Erin opened her eyes. The flashing lights of an ambulance and two police cars blinked behind the man on her TV screen.

“—We’ve been unable to talk with police and obtain details as yet, but initial reports place two witnesses on the scene at the time of the shooting. And as you can see…” The reporter stepped aside, giving a graphic description of the scene while the TV camera panned to the sidewalk across the street. Two men knelt beside a body.

“Ugh! Sorry, Robert Sheffield, but this is nothing I want to see.” Erin reached for the remote, then stopped when she caught sight of two men standing with a policeman in a darkened doorway in the background. Poor men. They must be the eyewitnesses. What a horrible experience!

A flash of brilliance from the rotating light of the ambulance swept across the recessed entrance highlighting the men’s faces for a moment and Erin jerked forward. That was David Carlson! She stared at the man on the left. She must be wrong about the witness thing. He was probably just covering the story for The Herald. But he wasn’t talking to anyone. He was just standing there. She leaned closer to the TV, watching David.

Suddenly a hand appeared, and the screen went black. A voice, obviously connected to the hand covering the lens, ordered someone to turn the camera off. There was an indistinguishable mumble in reply, and a moment later the hand was removed, revealing the reporter standing in front of the Channel Four News van. “This concludes our live coverage at this time. We’ll have updates as details become avail—”

Erin snatched up the remote, clicked the TV off and leaned back against the couch. David Carlson. She had enjoyed the time she spent with him, which was unusual because she was always so tense around men. It was probably his professional interviewing skills that had made her relax. Of course, it helped that his behavior had been impeccable. He’d been polite and nice. And he was so intelligent.

Erin bent down, scooped up her shoes and headed upstairs to change into comfortable clothes. Why was she thinking about how nice David Carlson seemed? She’d never see him again—except occasionally on TV. She pursed her lips in speculation. She could be wrong, but it sure looked as if he’d witnessed that shooting. For his sake she hoped not.

David unlocked his door and stepped into his entrance hall. The leather globe light, suspended from the plastered ceiling, shone onto the objects atop the red-lacquered chest below it. He dropped his keys into the brass bowl, then tugged his necktie loose and moved down the two steps into the living room.

It had been quite a day. Witnessing that shooting had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He’d never seen a man’s life snuffed out in the space of a moment before. He’d almost lost his dinner. And then there was the police questioning, and his own limited account of the story to write for the paper. Too bad he had to report in general terms. This story could have been his big break. Maybe it still could be.

David rotated the tension from his neck and shoulders, then flipped the switch that turned on the indirect lighting and punched the button on his answering machine.

“David, darling? Are you there? It’s after eight.” A tiny bit of impatience crept into Brandee Rogers’s honeyed tones. “I thought you’d be home by now. Even reporters— Oh, never mind. I’m calling because I want you to take me to Charlene’s this Saturday night. She’s having one of her fabulous spur-of-the-moment parties, and you know everyone who is anyone in town will be trying to wrangle an invitation. I happened to run into her at lunch today so I’m in. And so are you, darling. She made a point of mentioning you. I’m jealous.”

David frowned at the coy words and tone. He could almost see Brandee’s full lower lip sticking out in an affected pout. She was getting a little too possessive. Maybe he should call a halt to—

“Call me, darling, and I’ll give you all the particulars.” She gave a throaty laugh. “Well, maybe not all of them. Wait until you see me in my new dress. Byeeee.”

Or maybe not. David lifted his hand and rubbed the muscles at the nape of his neck. Brandee might be using him to polish up her social image, but it didn’t do his prestige any harm to have a beautiful model draped on his arm either. And you never knew who would show up at Charlene’s parties. She definitely traveled with the high crowd. Saturday night was a must. So why didn’t he feel his usual enthusiasm? Was it because he couldn’t get a cloud of dark red hair and a pair of beautiful green eyes out of his mind? Let alone the power-packed smile that went with them.

David frowned, leaped the two steps up into the kitchen and pulled open the refrigerator door. He hadn’t been able to get Erin Kelly out of his mind all week. She’d even cost him his Wednesday night handball game with Ted.

David scowled and poured himself a glass of orange juice. He’d dated quite a few women, but none of them had attached themselves so firmly to his thoughts that he couldn’t concentrate. That had never happened before.

When it’s right—it’s right.

Ted’s words set his teeth on edge. “Buddy, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Erin Kelly is definitely not right for me. So you and Ms. Kelly can both get out of my head!”

David guzzled the orange juice, rinsed the glass, then stuck it in the dishwasher and grabbed the handset from the kitchen phone. He was in a lousy mood tonight, but he knew the cure. He pushed a button with his thumb.

“Hello?”

That breathy thing she did with her voice suddenly seemed irritating. He scowled. “Hello, Brandee.”

“David, darling! You got my message?”

“Yes. That’s why I’m calling.” David put his odd mood down to the residue of emotion left over from the shooting and forced a light note into his voice. “I’m looking forward to seeing you in that dress Saturday night.”

Chapter Three

Erin frowned down at the paper she was correcting, glanced at the little boy in the third row and pursed her lips. There had to be a reason for the error, he was one of her brightest students. He never made a mistake when it came to choosing the correct vowel to make a word. “Michael, would you come here for a moment please?”

The blond head lifted instantly. The five-year-old put down his pencil and hurried up to her desk. She motioned for him to come stand beside her. “Michael, this is your paper. Would you read the word with the vowel you’ve chosen please?”

“Buke.”

“And what would it be with the other vowel choice?”

“Bike.”

“That’s right. Now, which one do you want to choose?”

“Buke.”

Erin studied Michael’s face for a moment. He was dead serious. Why would he choose the u instead of the i? “Use buke in a sentence, Michael.”

“When I’m bad, my daddy bukes me.”

Ah! Erin fought back a grin. “That’s rebukes, Michael. When you’re bad, your daddy rebukes you.”

“Oh.” Michael’s little blond eyebrows drew together and he pointed at the paper. “Then that’s wrong. Can I change it?”

“May I change it?” Erin gave him a hug. “Yes, you may.” She handed him the paper. “Bring it back when you’ve corrected it.” She watched Michael scurry back to his desk, then rose and hurried from the room as her suppressed mirth threatened to break free.

“Erin?”

She glanced toward the office. Betty Fowler motioned her to come in. “You have a telephone call.”

David slipped his cell phone into his suit coat pocket. That was that. Erin Kelly would meet him at the Oak Street Diner at four-thirty to answer the rest of his questions about Professor Stiles’s literacy program. Too bad all the people he had to interview for stories weren’t that polite, pleasant or accommodating. Or soft spoken. A smile curved his lips. Erin Kelly had a great voice. And fantastic looks. Those eyes of hers—

Hold up, buddy! Don’t travel down that road. It doesn’t matter how attractive or nice Erin Kelly is—she’s not for you. Not with that religious baggage she’s carrying around!

David shook his head, checked traffic and ran across Bartlett Street to Domingo’s. Given the strength of his attraction to Erin Kelly, it was a good thing he’d only asked her to meet him for coffee. Twenty minutes tops, and he’d be out of there. Then he’d never see Erin Kelly again. But that was later. Right now he had a few questions to ask Danny Arcano about that shooting the other night. Danny always knew the talk on the streets.

David focused his attention on the job at hand, shoved open the door of the bar and stepped into the dark interior.

No matter how Erin tried to calm herself, nerves flittered in her stomach. She knew she was being silly. This wasn’t personal. David Carlson only wanted to ask her some questions. Still…the flitters increased.

Erin scowled, took a quick peek in the visor mirror and pushed her hair back behind her ears. It didn’t help much, but without a comb it would have to do. Why didn’t she carry a purse like other women! She stared at the pink her nervous tension brought to her cheeks and wrinkled her nose in distaste. At least she didn’t have to worry about being pale. She looked like a clown.

Erin flipped the visor up in disgust, reached into the ashtray for the lip balm she used to keep her lips soft and moist and spread it on. Maybe she should use it on her tongue, too—her mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow. Relax! You handled the first interview well.

She gave an unladylike snort. Like that was the reason she was tense! It was the thought of David Carlson that made her nervous. She’d never reacted to a man the way she had to him. When their gazes had met that first time, and he’d taken hold of her hand—

Okay. Enough of the foolishness! She was ready. Erin glanced down at her melon-colored jacket dress, sighed and climbed from the car. Why hadn’t she worn her new, flax-colored suit today, which made her look older, more professional? Because she didn’t know David Carlson would call and ask her to meet him for coffee after work.

And there went those flitters again. Stop it! It’s only a business appointment. Erin frowned, crossed the parking lot and reached for the chrome bar on the diner’s blue-painted door as she stepped into the canopied entrance.

“Allow me.”

Erin jerked sideways and glanced up straight into David Carlson’s smiling face. He must have been waiting for her. Had he seen her primping in the car? She turned away as the telltale warmth of embarrassment crept into her cheeks. So much for presenting a professional demeanor.

“A dollar for your thoughts.” David reached around in front of her and pulled the door open.

“A dollar?” Erin stepped into the diner. “That’s generous of you.” She slanted a look at him. “Last I knew, thoughts were only worth a penny.”

“Inflation.” David followed her inside. “Besides, you looked so serious, your thoughts are probably worth more than a dollar.” He ushered her to a booth by a window. “Did you have a hard day at work?”

Erin shook her head and slid onto the red vinyl bench seat. “I never have a hard day. I love my job. The children are wonderful.” She looked over at him, feeling more at ease with the width of the aluminum-edged table between them. “How about you?”

“Well, I can’t say I never have a hard day.” His lips twisted into a wry smile. “Not everyone appreciates the job I do. In fact some of them get downright nasty when I’m investigating a story they’re involved in. But, like you, I love my work—in spite of the rough situations I occasionally encounter.”

“Are you ready to order?”

Order? We just sat down! Erin glanced up at the young server. The teenager was staring at David and practically drooling on her order pad. So that was it. Well, she could certainly understand. David Carlson was hands down the most handsome man she’d ever seen. She cleared her throat to get the girl’s attention. “I’ll have an unsweetened iced tea with lemon, please.” The girl’s gaze didn’t so much as flicker in her direction. She might as well have been mute and invisible.

“Make mine coffee—hot and black.”

The girl smiled at David and wrote it down. “Is that all? Are you sure there’s nothing else I can get for you? The menu’s there on the table.” She gestured, but didn’t take her eyes off David. “I’ll wait if you need more time.”

The girl was all but cooing at him! Erin ducked her head and stared down at her lap, freeing David to respond to the teenager’s blatant flirting, if he so chose.

“Only the coffee and iced tea with lemon, thank you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Erin watched the server walk over to the counter, hips swinging seductively.

“You can come up for air now.”

So he’d been aware of what she was doing! She lifted her head and met David’s gaze head-on.

“I’m sorry, Erin, that was awkward.” His lips tilted in a rueful smile. “She’s young.”

He sounded kind and a tiny bit embarrassed, which—she knew perfectly well—meant absolutely nothing. Men were such liars. She gave him a cool look. “Yes, she is. Anyway, it’s over—until she comes back.”

David folded his arms across his chest, relaxed back against the seat and fastened his gaze on her. “That sounds a little skeptical. I’m surprised. Cynicism doesn’t fit you, Erin.” He shifted his position toward her and lowered his voice. “You don’t think I’m going to respond to her flirting, do you? She must be ten years my junior!”

That doesn’t stop Jerry! Erin’s skin prickled with anger. She yanked her thoughts back to David. “I have a sinister side to my nature.”

“Sinister? If you think that’s sinister, you need to read the newspaper more often.” He sat back and grinned. “I can recommend a good column.”

His grin was contagious. Erin smiled in response, then reached up to tuck the hair that had swung free back behind her ear. Professional, remember? Keep it professional. “Speaking of your column—you had some questions you wanted to ask me?”

David’s eyebrows rose. He stared across the table at her, and the intensity of his scrutiny made her want to get up and walk away. After a moment, his lips spread in a smile that trapped the breath in her lungs. “Business only, huh? You’re an enigma, Erin Kelly. But I’m not an investigative reporter for nothing. I’ll figure you out. Now, about the questions.”

Erin’s breath released a gust of relief as David shifted gears. She could hold her own with the reporter side of him—it was the man that knocked her off-kilter.

“When we first talked about the center, Erin, you said I would be surprised at the number of adults that can’t read—or words to that effect. Are there really that many?”

She gave an emphatic nod, relieved to be on solid professional ground. “The number is shocking. And I can’t tell you the negative impact it has on their lives! They get stuck in low-paying jobs, which often leads to less-than-desirable low-income housing options. And, even then they have to accept help from the state simply to buy groceries. Their self-esteem suffers and—”

David’s lips curved upward.

Erin stiffened. “You find that amusing?”

He shook his head. “No. I find that disturbing. But I also find myself admiring your wrath on behalf of the center’s clients and those sparks of anger flashing in your dark green eyes.” His gaze locked on hers. “You really are passionate about this problem.”

Thankfully, the server chose that moment to bring their drinks, because Erin couldn’t speak. Her numb-struck mind couldn’t think of an adequate reply. It had stalled on the fact that David Carlson said he admired her, and the altogether foolish and inappropriate response of her wildly fluttering heart.

Erin frowned at the ringing phone. This was the third call. She was never going to get these papers graded by tomorrow! She dropped her pen and lifted the handset. “Hello?”

“Hi, Boots! Where were you? I tried to get hold of you after work.”

The dilemma she’d been struggling with ever since she’d witnessed Jerry’s infidelity hit Erin full force at the sound of her sister’s voice. She sagged back into her favorite overstuffed chair, burning with the desire to tell Alayne about Jerry’s behavior, and certain it would only widen the chasm in their family if she did. “Sorry, Alayne. I had coffee with David Carlson at that little diner on Oak Street, then grabbed some pizza and went straight to the center. What did you want?” She must know. The receptionist works in the same office!

“Who cares?” Excitement sizzled out of the phone. “You had coffee with David Carlson the reporter? The one who’s on Channel Four News every once in awhile? Way to go, Erin! That guy’s scrumptious! And he’s on his way up, too.” Her older sister’s voice was flooded with admiration. “Not only is he great at his job, but from all I hear, he knows how to play the ‘climbing the social ladder to success’ game with the best of them. So, what’s he like?”

Erin pushed aside her dilemma and focused on the conversation. “He’s intelligent. And polite and charming.” Far too charming! “And funny—in a nice sort of way, nothing off-color or suggestive.”

“He sounds perfect for you. Did he ask you out again?”

Erin let out an exasperated sigh. “He didn’t ask me out this time. It wasn’t a date, Alayne. He just had some questions about the literacy program. He’s going to do a story about the center for his features column. You know, the long column that runs every Saturday.”

“My mistake. Sorry, Boots. I thought maybe you had finally— Never mind. It’s probably just as well it wasn’t a date.” Alayne’s voice took on a protective tone. “David Carlson is a lady-killer for sure. And he’s no—”

Erin winced as her sister chopped off her words. “No what?”

“No…choir boy. Not that I’ve heard anything bad about him, but you’re not used to moving in his circles, you’d be no match for him. Look, I’ve got to go, Boots. We’re at the club and Jerry’s pulling into a parking place. I’ll be in touch. Bye.”

The phone went dead.

“Alayne, you’re so blind!” Erin dropped the handset onto the cushion and surged to her feet. Nothing had changed. Alayne still thought being a Christian made you weak and vulnerable. Well, she would never become involved with a lying, cheating woman chaser like Jerry! And that included David Carlson!

Lady-killer. She could believe that from the way he had handed her that smooth line about “sparks” in her dark-green eyes! Sparks. Hah!

Erin stalked out to the mirror above the chest in the entrance hall, switched on the lamp and studied her reflection. Her eyes were an unusual dark green—almost the color of the leaves on the rhododendron bush by her front walk—but there were no “sparks” in them. That was just a sample of the glib compliments handed out by men to disarm woman. She knew that. So why was she staring in the mirror?

Erin turned away in disgust. No choir boy…you’d be no match for him. That was ridiculous! David Carlson may be the most handsome and charming man she’d ever met, but she didn’t trust him any more than any other man. She’d learned the folly of trusting a man—even seemingly nice, respectable ones—seven years ago. After all, Mr. Gorseman had been one of the best liked teachers in high school.

I’m sure you did the experiment, Erin, but, unfortunately, it’s missing. Meet me in the lab after school and I’ll let you repeat it.

A chill chased down Erin’s spine. How naive and trusting she’d been then. She’d believed Mr. Gorseman’s lie and gone in all innocence to meet him. And if Alayne—who came looking for her—hadn’t heard a noise and looked in the window of the locked and darkened science room to see Mr. Gorseman poised atop her on the lab table, he would have succeeded in his plan to rape her. And she—unconscious from the drug he’d put in the soda he’d given her—would never have known exactly what happened or who did it.

A deep shudder shook her. Erin wrapped her arms about herself and leaned against the chest, waiting for the reaction to pass. If only he’d been found guilty. But he’d lied his way out of it. At the inquiry, he denied her charge and explained her unconscious state by saying she’d been careless in handling the noxious chemicals in the experiment and had been overcome by fumes. He refuted Alayne’s charge by saying she was mistaken and overwrought, that he’d been trying to help Erin when Alayne started beating on the door. And he explained the locked door away by saying she, Erin, had a “crush” on him and must have locked it so they would be alone. It was his lies against their truth—and he was a beloved and respected teacher. All charges had been dropped.

Erin’s hands tightened around her upper arms, digging her fingertips into the soft flesh. It was that experience that had destroyed Alayne’s trust in God and ultimately split their family. It was the reason she, herself, was so wary and distrustful of men that she’d never been able to have a successful relationship.

Erin frowned and walked back into the living room. She didn’t want to be that way. She wanted to fall in love and marry and have children. She’d even dated a few times. But when a man showed interest in becoming close, when he tried to hold her or kiss her, she panicked, her defenses kicked in and she stopped seeing him. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t help herself.

Erin sighed, sat down in the chair and picked up her pen to finish grading the papers. Maybe someday she would find a man she could trust and fall in love with, but it wouldn’t be a “lady-killer” like David Carlson. No matter how he made her feel!

David opened the folder, stared down at the phone number he’d scrawled on the inside of the cover then closed it again. Was it too late to call? He checked his watch. It wasn’t quite eleven. He reached for the portable phone, then drew his hand back and walked away from his desk. It didn’t matter what time it was—no time would be the right time to call Erin Kelly.

David scowled and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Get out of my head, woman! I’m not calling you now or ever!”

He walked over to the window and stared out into the night feeling edgy and aggravated. Just the thought of religion had that effect on him. He’d had enough of it from his missionary father to last him a lifetime. He knew what it felt like to be ignored and unwanted by a religious zealot. He’d lived his life that way. He didn’t need that from anyone else—certainly not a woman. So why couldn’t he forget about Erin Kelly? Why did she stick like a burr to his consciousness?