His Texas Forever Family

“But,” she continued, “I just wanted to make it absolutely clear that tardiness will not be tolerated at this school.”

Liam winced at the word. Tardy? He wasn’t one of her students and certainly didn’t appreciate being treated with such disdain. He had a master’s degree in art education, thank you very much, and was well on his way to a Ph.D., so who was she to talk to him so condescendingly? Sure, she was in a position of authority, but that didn’t give her the right to berate him for one mistake. He was the one doing the school a favor by filling an open position at the last minute, not the other way around.

Liam set his mouth to keep from saying something he’d regret. Forcing a polite smile, he met her cornflower eyes and addressed her, matching her less than friendly tone with his own.

“As I said this morning, Mrs. Graham, I’m very sorry that I was late. It will not happen again. But there’s a good reason...”

“It’s Ms., not Mrs., Graham,” she interrupted.

He couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t let him talk for one minute... Wait a second—why was he relieved at the correction? And anyway, what was he doing thinking about her like that? Even if he was interested in letting another woman into his life, which he wasn’t, it sure wouldn’t be someone as uptight as Paige Graham.

Liam said nothing, concentrating his effort on stopping the cascade of disconcerting thoughts. She’d have to learn to listen before he’d waste another breath trying to talk to her. He was patient, but a man had only so much courtesy, and she was pushing it.

Paige’s face softened slightly. “Look, Mr. Campbell, there’s something else I want to say.” She raised a hand to rub her temples and closed her eyes for a few seconds. The brief gesture caused an unwelcome softness to swell in his chest. He saw for the first time how stressed she seemed to be and noticed the pale purple half-moons under her otherwise pretty—more than pretty, beautiful, if he was honest—eyes. After all, she looked barely twenty-five, although Liam assumed she had to be older than that to have worked her way up to her position. She certainly behaved like someone older.

What in her life could possibly account for that air of severity hovering around her?

* * *

After a few minutes, Paige opened her eyes and met Liam’s, which, despite everything, weren’t filled with the irritation she’d expected. She hadn’t meant to be so hard on him that morning, and honestly, she owed him an apology. She resisted the urge to explain herself, not wanting to bring up Owen or the challenging time she’d had getting him to school that morning.

It had been her husband’s job to get Owen to school most mornings because Paige had to be there so much earlier than her son. It was hard enough on both of them now, with her working at her own child’s school, but it had been a lot less stressful when Owen’s dad had taken care of getting him there.

A lot of things had been easier when Mark had been around. When he’d been alive.

The past six months had stretched Paige’s nerves as thin as they could go. But no matter how hard things had gotten, and no matter how many days and nights she worried how her son would fare growing up without his father, she knew it was always a thousand times worse for Owen. Her heart ached for her little boy, and as she worried about him for the millionth time that day, she had to fight the tears that crowded behind her eyes and threatened to make her look even more off-kilter than she must have already that morning.

But Liam Campbell didn’t need to know any of that.

She only needed to reestablish her authority as his superior, and then hopefully she could refer him to Principal Matthews if any issues came up in the future.

She met Liam’s eyes, the rich, heady green of them hitting her all over again.

“What I wanted to say is that I’m very sorry for the way things happened this morning.”

Paige looked down at her hands. She felt the entire day sitting heavily on her shoulders, and the startling thought invaded her mind of how great a massage would be. How wonderful Liam’s large hands would feel, kneading the tension from her tight muscles, melting away the weight of all the hats she wore—assistant principal, mother and father. She felt heat rush to her cheeks.

What is wrong with you? Get it together, Paige. You’re the man’s boss, for goodness’ sake.

“Even though it was unprofessional and inconvenient of you to arrive late on your first day, I shouldn’t have reprimanded you in front of the kids, and I do apologize.”

Despite her intention, it didn’t sound like much of an apology, even to her own ears. She hoped he would accept it anyway. What was it about him that set her off so easily, that made her want to keep him at a safe distance from the rush of confusion in her body, yet also draw him nearer?

“That’s fine,” Liam said, offering her a gentle smile that Paige hoped was as sincere as she’d meant her words to sound. The last thing she needed was to be at odds with one of her staff. Their opinions of her meant more than most of them probably knew, especially with the possibility of a promotion coming up.

She’d been a teacher herself after graduating from college until she finished her master’s degree and became a supervisor two years before, so Paige knew exactly what instructors went through each day on the job and how tough it could be sometimes. She made a point to visit her staff in action regularly and talk with them so that she didn’t lose touch with what it felt like to be in the classroom.

“So, then,” she said, feeling relieved. “Can we start fresh? Consider this our first meeting?”

Paige hoped she didn’t sound too desperate. Something about this man just put her on edge. Liam looked at her, his eyes still narrowed a little—trying to read her, she supposed—and then seemed to decide it was safe to agree to a truce. He reached a large hand across her desk. She noticed the colors underneath his fingernails and caught the pleasant, familiar scent of crayon wax from his skin and thought of how much Owen loved art. She resisted the strong compulsion to ask how Liam’s first day of class had gone, and whether or not he’d noticed her son’s disability.

“Done,” he said. Paige shook his hand and started at how wonderful it felt, firm and warm around her own small, cool one. She hoped he didn’t notice her slight jump at his touch and was grateful when he quickly pulled away from her and rose to leave. He made it to the door and turned back around to retrace his steps, and her heart did a small flip.

“I wanted to ask you about one more thing,” he said, sitting back in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees.

“Of course.”

“There’s a young man in my last class, the first graders, who I noticed has a bit of an issue. With all the first-day stuff, the period went by fast, so it could be nothing, but I wanted to make sure. I thought you might know if there’s a history.”

A lump rose quickly in Paige’s throat, and she could feel her neck turning crimson with heat. She knew instantly he was talking about Owen and was thankful Liam hadn’t made the connection. After all, Graham was a fairly common surname, and the new teacher had so many new names to commit to memory that he’d likely overlooked it.

She looked up to see his brows knit with concern—concern for her child.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, leaning forward to place a hand on her desk.

“Yes,” she lied.

Paige willed herself to maintain composure. She was an assistant principal and every kid should be her priority. She couldn’t think of Owen any differently.

But he was different. He was her own. And things were obviously still not okay, even after everything they’d tried over the past six months to get him talking again. She’d known she’d been senselessly optimistic by hoping that Owen’s first day of first grade would miraculously cure his selective mutism, but her heart had jumped ahead anyway and she hadn’t been able to stop herself from hoping he might speak to his friends or his new teachers.

Despite the rocky time they’d had getting to school that morning, Paige had been hoping that they could both start fresh this year.

That the Owen she knew would recover and resume communicating with the rest of the world.

But nothing had changed, and Paige had to admit they were running out of options.

She snapped back to her office. Liam was staring at her, his green eyes full of curiosity.

She would have to find the right way to bring up Owen. As a parent of one of his students, she knew there would come a time soon enough when Liam would find out about Owen’s disability, but Paige didn’t want him to think her incapable of objectivity by focusing all of her attention on her own son at their first one-on-one meeting. As assistant principal, all of the students were her responsibility, not just her own little guy.

“What is it?”

“Well, it could just be that it’s the beginning of the year, and the boy is shy, but...” Liam hesitated.

“But...” Paige prompted.

“But he didn’t speak during the whole period. I mean, he didn’t say a single word. And, like I said, maybe it’s just first-day jitters. We’ve all had that, including me, but...”

Paige ignored the reference to their morning run-in.

“Even with all of that, most first graders I know have plenty to say, and well, this kid didn’t say anything. It seemed like more than just shyness. I think there might be something more serious going on.”

Paige forced herself to swallow the fist-sized lump in her throat before working up the courage to speak, and she sent up a silent wish that her voice would come out sounding as normal as possible.

“I’m just curious, so that I can look into finding extra help for him if it comes to that, but may I ask something?” Paige said.

Liam nodded.

Paige measured her words carefully, wanting desperately to know every single detail about what had gone on during the class, every minute piece of information possible but knowing too that it was her job to give Owen the chance to be a normal kid. To let his actions, rather than her overprotective nature, speak for him. She knew he would hate it if he found out that she’d been talking to Mr. Campbell. And she couldn’t stand feeling that she’d betrayed her son.

“Did the other kids make fun of him or tease him in any way? Did they seem to think there was something...wrong...with him?” If Liam picked up on her hesitation to be frank with him, his face gave nothing away. He seemed to simply weigh her question carefully before answering with equal mindfulness.

“No, nothing like that. And actually, Owen seems to have quite a few buddies in the class. But when I tried to get him to talk to me, even to introduce himself, he wouldn’t interact at all. Some of the others even spoke up for him, which is kind, but, in reality, can sometimes make situations like his even worse.”

“Situations like his?” Paige asked. Had Liam met other children with something like Owen’s condition? In her years of teaching, she’d seen similar conditions a couple of times, but for those kids it had always passed as the school year went on and they made friends. For Owen, it didn’t seem to be improving despite six months of behavioral therapy. Even though Dr. Roberts knew the cause, he hadn’t yet been able to get Owen to talk to anyone besides his mother.

“Well, yes. I’ve seen it a few times actually. Both in my teaching experience and in...”

Liam was interrupted as Paige’s office door opened and a small, sandy-haired boy burst in, stopping just inside as his blue eyes shot back and forth between the two adults who had turned to stare at him.

“Well, hi there,” Liam said, smiling at the child.

“Hi, sweetie,” Paige said, unfreezing her limbs and rising quickly from her chair. “Come on in.”

“Mr. Campbell,” she said, “I think you’ve already met my son, Owen.”

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