Smoky Mountain Home

“Red sky in morning, sailor take warning,” she told herself. “I wonder if that still holds true when we’re four hundred miles inland and a mile above sea level.”

Two hours later, with her horses fed but half the stalls still needing to be cleaned, she propped her chin on her hands, gripped around the handle of a manure fork, and gazed at the gentle rain falling outside the barn windows. “I guess it is true. We’re going to have rain for Moving-In Day.”

Waldo, the twenty-three year old Percheron, stuck his huge white head over his stall door and whickered in her direction. Ruth Ann moved closer to rub the soft white hair on his cheeks and throat. “No time for a ride today, old man. I’ll be down at the school until dinnertime, helping the girls get settled.”

He pushed his nose into her hand, and she knuckled the velvety pink skin between his nostrils. “Yes, even in the rain. We’re all gonna be chilled and damp by the end of the afternoon. I hope they’re planning spaghetti for dinner.”

The horse lipped her fingers. “This new cook makes some strange choices, though. She served spinach quiche for lunch one day during summer school—whatever made her think teenagers who’d spent the morning hiking and swimming in the summer heat would want eggs and spinach for lunch? What do you suppose Cook thought when most of the pieces of her green and yellow pie returned to the kitchen untouched?”

Lightning flashed outside, followed quickly by the growl of thunder. Waldo turned away and paced to the outside door of his stall, settling in to contemplate the weather.

“Just as well,” Ruth Ann murmured to herself, and to the horses around her as she hurried to finish her work. “I’ve got to be at the dorm by nine. I hope there are more dads here this year than last. I really don’t want to spend all morning schlepping luggage in the rain.”

Just in case, though, she donned her raincoat and pulled rubber boots over her sneakers. She checked the various buckets set under the leaks in the roof and emptied those more than a third full.

“That’ll hold us till lunchtime,” she told Patsy, a dark bay thoroughbred mare. “I’ll rush back while the girls and their folks are eating. Be good.”

The Hawkridge stables were located half a mile from the main house and the dormitories, an easy walk across the lawns and meadows of the grounds. Driving her pickup truck to avoid the rain required Ruth Ann to use the four-mile service road running through the forest surrounding the estate. Here and there, the trees were starting to show a few yellow-edged leaves and some splotches of red. After a hot, dry summer, the welcome rain had already washed away lots of dust, leaving the woods a deep green against which the autumn colors glowed brightly.

Due to the weather, parents would be unloading their cars as close to the dorm as possible, so Ruth Ann left her truck in the faculty parking lot near the main house—the Manor, Howard Ridgely had called it, a title that had stuck—and walked to the more modern student residence behind. Inside, the usual controlled chaos of Moving-In Day ruled. Because the girls on each grade level roomed together on a hallway, all students would be relocating today, whether this was their first year at Hawkridge or not.

Alice Tolbert, the head of the literature department, sat at a table on one side of the big room, checking in first-time students. Across the open space leading from the front door to the staircase, the new physics teacher, Teresa James, occupied the table where returning students would pick up their room assignments. Having just graduated from college herself, Teresa was still making the adjustment from student to authority figure.

Ruth Ann went to stand beside her. “How’s it going?”

Brushing shiny blond bangs back from her face, Teresa produced a tense smile. “I think I’m doing this right. I’ve had a few complaints, though.”

“Someone’s always going to be unhappy with their new room.” Ruth Ann pulled up a chair and sat down. “They complained last year, they’ll complain next year. Just ignore it.”

The physics teacher glanced around. “I want them to like me,” she said in a low voice. “I’ve heard I’m replacing the most popular teacher in the school.” Then she winced. “I mean, you’re a teacher and I’m sure they all like you—”

“Don’t worry.” Ruth Ann grinned. “Mason Reed was definitely popular—he was the only male, he’s handsome as sin and a really nice guy. But now he’s in Boston with his new wife, starting classes in engineering himself, God bless him. And we are going to carry on just fine without him.” She nodded at the girl who came to the table. “Hi, Sherry, good to see you. This is Ms. James, the new physics teacher. And your room this year will be…”

The morning passed quickly. Ruth Ann stuck by Teresa James until the young teacher seemed to feel more at ease. Then she helped new students convey bags and boxes to their rooms, making conversation to ease the difficult moments. Most parents bringing their daughters to Hawkridge carried with them some kind of guilt or a sense of failure. The girls themselves were often resentful as well as scared—they’d been brought to this school because they couldn’t be trusted to follow the rules anywhere else. And Hawkridge rules were tough—no alcohol, cigarettes, drugs or sex, no piercings, no makeup or jewelry other than a watch, no unescorted trips off-campus.

Of course, not all girls complied with all of the rules. But the success rate at Hawkridge was high. Most students left with a good sense of self-esteem and real, reachable goals for their lives. Ruth Ann took pride in the part her horses played in that process.

As she returned to the lounge after carrying a heavy pair of suitcases to the fourth floor, she saw Darcy Granger standing in the midst of the traffic flowing through the room. Clutching a bed pillow in a pink cover against her chest, she looked completely bewildered, on the verge of tears.

Had her stepfather dropped her off without making sure she got where she belonged? Jonah Granger was probably worried his Porsche would be hit by one of the other parents’ cars.

Ruth Ann approached Darcy. “Hey, there. I’m glad to see you made it. Have you checked in yet?”

Darcy shook her head, her eyes wide and her lips pursed as she stared at the bustle around her.

“Okay, then, you come stand here.” With a light hand on Darcy’s shoulder, Ruth Ann led the girl to the check-in line. “Is your da—Is Mr. Granger coming back?”

“I think so.”

“Good. He’ll see you if you stay in the line.” Ruth Ann looked around for other girls who needed help, but this late in the morning, almost everyone had arrived. Lunch in the Manor dining hall with their parents would be the opening of the school year. Then would come all the tearful—and quite a few not-so-tearful—goodbyes.

Alice Tolbert was talking to Darcy, going over papers and forms in a gentle voice. And still Jonah Granger hadn’t made an appearance. Ruth Ann heaved a big sigh, shrugged into the slicker she’d discarded a couple of hours ago, and went out into the rain to find him.

What she found first was a mountain of luggage right outside the front door. She counted ten suitcases, four large and four medium plus two huge athletic bags, stuffed until the seams had started to pull. Each was labeled with a lime-green luggage tag which read Darcy Granger.

As she stared at the pile, a man came around the corner of the building nearest the parking lot, wheeling a handcart on which rested a full-sized footlocker—the kind the military issued for recruits to store all of their gear. This one was shiny black, with silver metal on the corners, and Ruth Ann had a feeling that—even if she hadn’t recognized Jonah Granger’s tall, lean frame—this, too, would have Darcy’s name on it.

When Granger reached the bottom of the steps he stopped, straightened up and blew out a long breath. Then he glanced up and saw Ruth Ann.

“This is the last of her gear,” he said, his voice even, emotionless. “If you’ll point the way to the elevator inside, I’ll get everything to her room.”

Ruth Ann struggled with the smile she knew would only infuriate him. “I’m afraid we don’t use the elevator on Moving-In Day. It’s only for emergencies.”

He leaned an elbow on the upturned edge of the footlocker. “You’re kidding, right?”

She shook her head. “Afraid not.” Today, he wore jeans and boat shoes and a leather jacket softened with wear—but not too much—in all the right places. His wet hair had fallen into very natural and appealing spikes across his tanned forehead, and his long eyelashes had caught several beads of water. Did the man ever look less than gorgeous?

His blue gaze remained locked on her face for a moment, the expression changing from surprise to irritation to a steely resolve. “Okay, then. No problem.” Grabbing the handle of the handcart, he began to bump it up the steps. When he reached the top, Ruth Ann opened the door for him to back through.

“Thanks,” he said, without looking at her.

When she came inside again, he was standing with Darcy and Alice, getting an explanation of where Darcy’s room would be. He glanced at Ruth Ann, and lifted an eyebrow. “You don’t have to carry those. We’ll manage.”

Ruth Ann would have shrugged, but the two athletic bags were slung over her shoulders and in each hand she held a large suitcase. “That’s what I’m here for. And you haven’t got much time—lunch is at noon. Which room, Alice?”

“Two East, Fourteen,” Alice said, meaning the east wing of the second floor, room fourteen.

“That’s a good one,” Ruth Ann told Darcy as they started up the steps. “You’ll get morning sunshine and cool afternoons.”

Darcy didn’t answer. Behind them, her stepfather bumped the footlocker up a step at a time.

As they walked down the hallway, Ruth Ann could see that the door to room fourteen stood open. “Your roommate must be here already. Did Ms. Tolbert tell you her name?”

Darcy shrugged one shoulder. “Um…Eve, I think.”

One step over the threshold, however, she stopped dead and actually shrank back. Ruth Ann unloaded the luggage she carried outside the room, next to the wall, and then peered around Darcy to see what the problem might be. A mother and daughter occupied the room’s two chairs, the younger practically a mirror image of the older—fashionably thin, wearing designer jeans, shoes and tops, their faces perfectly made up, ash-blond hair perfectly styled.

Confronted by the double dose of chic, Ruth Ann suddenly felt like the ugly green giant. As an adult, however, she was required to handle the situation, not run away from it.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Hi, Eve. This is Darcy Granger. She’ll be your roommate.” Moving Darcy further into the room with a gentle push, she offered a hand to Eve’s mother. “I’m Ruth Ann Blakely, the equestrian trainer at Hawkridge.”

Limp fingers brushed briefly against hers. “Nina Forrest.”

Eve’s expression didn’t change. She barely glanced at Darcy. “Hi.”

Nina looked beyond Ruth Ann. “And you are…?” she purred.

“Darcy’s stepfather, Jonah.” He reached past Ruth Ann for a handshake, nudging her arm in the process. She fought a surprising urge to shy from his touch like a startled horse.

Nina Forrest had no such qualms and offered him a feline smile along with her hand. “It’s good to meet you, Jonah. I’ve heard about your work, of course. Who in New York hasn’t?”

“Thanks.” Letting go of Nina, he looked at Eve. “It’s good to meet you, Eve.”

Her smile was as predatory as her mother’s. “Thank you, Jonah.”

Ruth Ann drew in a deep breath, half annoyance, half surprise at the girl’s lack of respect. Before she could say anything, though, a bell chimed twice in the hallway.

“That’s the lunch bell,” she told the two girls and their parents. “You’ve got five minutes to get to the dining hall.”

As the four of them left the room, Jonah Granger looked at Ruth Ann. “I need to get the rest of Darcy’s bags. Could you take her to the lunch room and I’ll—”

She shook her head at him. “Nope. You two go on to the dining hall,” she ordered, emphasizing the last two words. Hawkridge possessed nothing as mundane as a lunch room. “I’ll carry up the rest of the bags.”

“You can’t bring all those big bags up the stairs,” he protested.

“I won’t.” Ruth Ann grinned. “I’ll use the elevator.”

“But—” He glared at her. “You said—”

“I’m staff.” She pushed him toward the exit in Nina Forrest’s wake. “There are some rules I get to break.”

DARCY felt sick to her stomach, so she took an extra roll when the plate got passed to her. Food made her feel better.

Her roommate ignored the rolls. And the lasagna, the applesauce and the milk. She took some salad when the bowl came by and poured herself a glass of water from the pitcher in the center of the table. Eve refused dessert, too—chocolate cake with vanilla ice cream—and she only ate half of the salad on her plate. No wonder her waist was the size of a pencil.

Eve’s mother ate the same way—salad and water. At least she had the excuse that she never stopped talking to Jonah long enough to chew. Jonah, meanwhile, had gone into defensive mode. He knew how to deflect women like Eve’s mom with smiles and nods that made her believe he listened to every word, while in fact he was thinking about something else, probably a building design. Darcy had seen him deal with her mother that way. Before the fighting got really bad.

Looking around, Darcy noticed that the parents at most tables seemed to be talking to each other, but the girls didn’t say much. It wasn’t like the beginning of the year at a regular school, where you were glad to get back with your friends…if you had any. Hawkridge was a school for girls with “issues.” As far as Darcy was concerned, parents seemed to be the real reason kids had issues to begin with. So it made sense they wouldn’t talk to their parents.

This lunch was really kinda painful, though. She would have liked it better if they’d just let Jonah say goodbye and abandon her to her fate.

The chocolate cake was delicious, so Darcy took a second helping while the headmistress was giving her welcome speech. If they had meals like this three times a day, plus decent teachers, maybe Hawkridge wouldn’t be so bad. Darcy could face almost anything, with good books and good food.

Well, except for her mother.

“You have fifteen minutes to get the last of your belongings into your rooms and say goodbye downstairs,” the headmistress, Ms. Thomas, said. “The student floors are now open to students and staff only. Parents, we’ll be starting our program here at Hawkridge at 2:00 p.m. and you’ll be on your way home. Have a safe trip!”

Everybody stood and started to leave the big dining hall. Eve’s mother turned to Jonah.

“Let me give you my card,” she said, with the smile that reminded Darcy of a hungry panther. “I represent some very nice properties in Lower Manhattan, Chelsea, Tribeca—you might find yourself looking for a new place to live, now that Daisy is in school here.”

Jonah took the card between two fingers. “Darcy,” he corrected. “I will be relocating, as a matter of fact. To this area,” he continued, when Nina started to say something. “While I’m involved with projects around the southeast. But—” He gave her his smooth, won’t-happen grin. “I’ll call if I need something.”

Judging by Nina’s smile, she expected a call tonight. “Please do.” Then she turned to Eve. “Come on, darling. Kiss Mummy goodbye.”

Darcy saw Jonah roll his eyes as he turned away. He put a hand on her shoulder as they walked into the big entry hall and out onto the front steps. His palm felt warm, heavy in a nice way. That was just one of the good things about being with Jonah—he didn’t mind holding hands, even giving hugs. Her mother, Darcy had learned early, didn’t touch. Not little girls, anyway.

Standing a couple of steps down so they were pretty much eye to eye, Jonah looked at her. “I thought I’d get to help you unpack,” he said, frowning. “Are you going to be able to handle it by yourself?”

Darcy blinked hard. “I guess so.” She should be used to goodbyes, used to being alone. She’d survived most of the summer by herself, once her mother had left for Europe, until Jonah had found out and rescued her. The last few weeks with him had been a lot more fun.

So letting him go was hard. When she lived in her mother’s house, at least she knew all the servants’ names. Here, she knew nobody, except for Eve. Some comfort.

“Darcy?” Jonah tapped her lightly on the chin with his fist. “I’m going to be around, you know—I’ve got a meeting about the stable tomorrow morning. I’ll bet we can run into each other every time I’m out here, if we work it right.”

He looked worried, and she didn’t want him to worry. “Sure,” she said, working up a smile. “I’ll look for you between classes tomorrow.”

“Great. I—”

“Hey, Darcy, there you are!”

She turned around to see Ms. Blakely standing in the doorway.

“You’d better hurry,” she said, beckoning for Darcy to join her. “You definitely don’t want to be the last one to sit down—that means you have to stand up first to introduce yourself to the school.”

Looking back at Jonah, Darcy found him grinning. “Go on.” He nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

Should she give him a hug? With a teacher watching? Did he care? Darcy wasn’t sure.

Then he leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Be safe,” he whispered.

Darcy nodded. “Bye.” She ran up the steps and past Ms. Blakely, who pointed her toward the dining hall. A few girls were still coming down the big circular staircase, so she hustled ahead of them and managed to grab a chair in time. She wasn’t going to be the last to sit or the first to say her name.

No way was she starting out at a new school as a geek!

JONAH watched Darcy disappear, then looked back at Ruth Ann Blakely, standing above him on the steps. The rain had stopped during lunch and she’d taken off her olive-green raincoat, revealing jeans and a long-sleeved blue T-shirt. Though less snug than her breeches, those jeans left him in no doubt about the feminine curves underneath. Without makeup, and with her hair pulled back in the apparently habitual ponytail, she should have been, well, ordinary. Few women, in Jonah’s experience, appeared at their best without cosmetic assistance of one kind or another.

But the trainer’s face looked fresh and natural, as if she’d washed it in the morning’s rain. Her pink cheeks evidently owed their color to fresh air and plenty of exercise. She had to be strong, judging by the way she’d carried Darcy’s suitcases as if they weighed nothing at all. He couldn’t be sure about her eye color, which might be hazel or green, but that zestful spark was unmistakable. There was an air of energy about Ms. Blakely, a vibrancy he’d rarely encountered.

“You can leave now,” she told him. “You’re free.”

She also had to be one of the rudest women he’d ever met. “I’d planned to help Darcy unpack,” he said, keeping his tone level. “Is that possible?”

“Nope.” She shook her head, and the ponytail bounced. “Darcy will manage just fine. It’s her stuff, after all. I’ve got to ask—how did you get all of that in your tiny little Porsche? Did you tie the suitcases on top?”

“I drive a truck when necessary,” Jonah told her, feeling his patience start to shred.

“You mean an SUV, right? One of the big, gas-guzzling fancy models with leather seats and Surround Sound and individual heating vents?”

“No. I mean a six-year old diesel pickup with a dented right rear side panel where I hit a fence post.” He stopped to think a second. “It does have leather seats.”

Arms crossed over her chest, she nodded. “Of course.”

“So could I stay around and take the suitcases away when Darcy’s finished with them?” He hated leaving her alone in this place where she knew no one.

Ms. Blakely descended to stand beside him. “Each floor of the dormitory has a box room where the girls store their luggage. Darcy will put all her bags—and whatever’s in them that doesn’t fit into her room—there.” She gripped his upper arm with one strong hand and gazed into his face. “Really, you can leave. We’ll take care of her.”

Hazel. Ruth Ann Blakely’s irises were a mosaic of green and gold flecks, Jonah realized, framed by thick brown lashes. He read empathy in those jade-and-topaz eyes, maybe even compassion. He was surprisingly tempted to accept her understanding, to trust the reassurance she offered.

Fortunately, he came to his senses in the next moment. “Thanks. I’m sure you will.” Pulling out of her grasp, he ran down the remaining steps and only then stopped to look back. “By the way, we have a meeting tomorrow morning at nine. I’d appreciate your timely arrival. My schedule is rather tight. Since your input is vital to the project, I’d like to get started as early as possible.”

He walked away without waiting for her to respond.

And he pretended not to hear when she said, “Oh, yes, sir, of course, sir, Mr. Architectural Pain in the Rear! Sir!”

Chapter Three

Ruth Ann entered the Hawkridge Manor library at twenty minutes after eight the next morning. She settled herself at the far end of the table from the easel set up for Jonah Granger’s use and set about finishing her cinnamon roll and coffee while she waited.

At eight forty-five, Granger strode into the room. Without glancing in Ruth Ann’s direction, he extracted his work from a carrying case and placed the sheets on the easel. Flipping through them, he changed the order a couple of times.

Ruth Ann grinned to herself. The great man seemed a little nervous about his presentation.

What he didn’t have to be nervous about was his appearance. Today’s V-necked sweater in a heathery green wool, worn over a T-shirt and dark jeans, looked every bit as good as last week’s dressier outfit. The man was incapable of showing up unprepared, unlike Ruth Ann, who had to make a special effort to leave the barn without wearing pieces of hay and smears of horse feed.

She would give him the style points, but she claimed a victory when it came to patience. Twice, he looked at the clock on the wall and verified the time there with his watch, then glanced at the doorway and shook his head. Ruth Ann didn’t doubt he was waiting for her to show up.

The third time he checked the clock, she decided to grant his wish. She cleared her throat loudly, taking great pleasure in his jump of surprise.

“What the—?” He jerked around and saw her sitting at the end of the table, relaxed and grinning. His brows lowered in a frown, almost meeting on the bridge of that arrogant, aquiline nose. “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough. You just knew I’d be late, didn’t you?”

“I’m surprised that you aren’t.” He fingered through the drawings once more—regaining control, Ruth Ann thought. “I checked in with Jayne on the way up. She’ll be here as soon as nine o’clock classes start.”

“Exactly what is this meeting about, anyway?”

Paging through a notebook, Granger didn’t spare her so much as a glance. “You.”

The answer caught her unawares. Ruth Ann sat up straight in her chair, letting her boot heels thunk on the floor. “What about me?”

He snapped the notebook closed, put it down, then stepped over to prop one hip on the corner of the table.

“You’re the one with the major objections to the project. You’re the one who would be working in the building I design. Therefore, you are the person who has to be convinced that my ideas for the new stable at Hawkridge are feasible.” The grin he sent her had a malicious edge to it. “Don’t you like being the center of attention?”

“No.” She had lost the upper hand somehow. On her feet, Ruth Ann headed for the door, needing light and air, a chance to think….

Jonah Granger stood at the same moment and moved to block her path. Her momentum brought her right up against him, with her chest pressed into his ribs. His hands closed over her shoulders, vetoing any move to escape.