Her Family Wish

Until the switch flipped and it was out with Dr. Jekyll, in with Mr. Hyde.

Hannah didn’t have to be a math teacher to know something didn’t add up. Jude’s vibe toward Abby went beyond mere overprotective. He had a secret.

She knew because she had her own.

She paced outside Sophia’s classroom, not ready to go inside until her blood pressure lowered. The dirt-streaked floor passed in a blur as she walked and turned, walked and turned. Jude had every right to raise his daughter the way he chose to, but this was ridiculous. The photo shoot had been done in complete innocence.

Hannah kept pacing, the bulletin board outside Sophia’s classroom a kaleidoscope of blue and yellow construction paper in her peripheral vision. Maybe she should have stayed out of it, but how could she have turned Mrs. McDuffy down over something so trivial? And why would someone refuse a photo of their kid? A gorgeous photo, at that—not a boast of Hannah’s talent, but of Abby’s natural beauty. Hannah had barely even opened the picture in Photoshop. In fact, the only thing she’d done was enhance the lighting of the background. She hadn’t touched Abby’s direct image.

How could that make a father upset instead of proud?

Even now Jude’s words echoed harshly in her mind. You’re right—you’re not a parent. He didn’t know—couldn’t know—how badly that hurt. The words themselves were an agreement, truthful. The average woman wouldn’t have even flinched.

Yet here Hannah was stuck trying to remove a hundred stinging barbs from her heart.

“Hannah, what are you doing in the hallway?” Sophia poked her head outside her class, bracing one arm on the door frame. Her dozen colored bangles clanged together on her wrist, jerking Hannah from her ponderings.

She turned to face her friend. “Trying to figure out why men do what they do.”

Sophia’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, honey, you better come on in. That one will take you until the end of the semester. Maybe longer.” She tugged Hannah inside. “What happened?”

Hannah nibbled her lower lip as they both leaned against the side of Sophia’s cluttered desk. “I think I made a mistake.” Logic began a slow descent, replacing the initial burst of frustration. “You remember last week Jude said he didn’t want me to take pictures of Abby for my portfolio?”

Sophia crossed her arms, bracelets jingling. “Yeah…” Her voice trailed off into a wary question.

“I did anyway, though it wasn’t my initial idea.” Hannah let out a long breath as she filled Sophia in on the photo shoot from Saturday and her conversation with Jude. “I honestly thought he just didn’t want to accept anything free, so I believed having it on Mrs. McDuffy’s account would skirt the issue. It wasn’t a free session I did as a favor that way, you know? But now I think he has other reasons.”

“Jude’s always been very careful with Abby,” Sophia agreed, moving to the chalkboard to erase her previous class’s bulletin points. “But this seems like overkill, even for him. Maybe he’s upset that she disobeyed his rules. He could have been projecting that anger onto you.”

Hannah coughed as a wave of chalk dust drifted toward her. “If so, it seems to be a new habit of his.”

It wouldn’t continue to be a habit. After today, she couldn’t imagine either of them finding anything agreeable to talk about. Two people who constantly offended the other had no reason to be around each other. Authority figure or not.

Students began filing into the room, and Hannah shot Sophia a look, silently agreeing to finish the conversation later.

As Abby took her seat in the front row, eyes sparkling with anticipation, a twinge of guilt flitted through Hannah’s stomach. She’d inadvertently caused trouble for the young girl. It seemed only fair to warn Abby of what she would face after school.

* * *

“Abby, do you mind staying a minute?” Hannah kept her voice low so the other students wouldn’t hear her request and assume the girl had done something wrong. Sophia had excused herself after dismissing the class, allowing Hannah space to have their pending conversation—and they’d have to hurry, since Jude was surely used to Abby meeting him directly after school.

Abby looked up from packing her backpack and offered an unsure smile. “Sure, Ms. Hart.” She zipped the bag and tucked the straps around her shoulders. “What’s up?”

Hannah sat on top of the desk across from Abby’s. “There’s something you should know.” This wouldn’t be easy. The rock that settled in Hannah’s stomach seemed proof enough of that. She swallowed, wishing she’d minded her own business from the start and not put either of them in this position.

“What is it?” Abby picked at a star sticker she’d put on the top of her otherwise bare hand. No chipped fingernail polish coated her nails, no rings sparkled on her fingers, no bracelets bunched at her wrist like almost every other girl in the class. Abby obviously knew she was different, or she wouldn’t have deliberately broken her dad’s rules to try to fit in.

Hannah could relate to being left out. Maybe she hadn’t felt that way as a teenager, but as a woman, it still wasn’t easy. The stares, the instant flickering of eyes from her own gaze to her cheek. The curiosity lingering in people’s voices, hinting at the question no one dared to ask.

No—never easy.

A wave of compassion washed over Hannah, and she leaned forward, coaxing the younger girl to meet her gaze. At least Abby’s struggles were superficial instead of permanent, as easily removed in the time it took to change clothes or untie a braided plait of hair. But as far Jude was concerned, Abby didn’t necessarily have those choices.

“You know those pictures I took at the park?”

“Yeah?” Abby cleared her throat. “I mean, yes, ma’am.”

Hannah briefly closed her eyes. Such manners on such a sweet girl—why on earth was Jude so particular about her appearance? It didn’t make sense.

Hannah forced a smile. “Some of them really turned out well, and I ended up making a few copies for you.”

Abby nodded, even as her gaze turned questioning, guarded, as if she could see what was coming.

Hannah shifted positions on the desk. Man, she hated being in the middle of this. Abby’s deception should have stayed between her and her dad, and if Hannah hadn’t had gotten involved with that silly picture, she wouldn’t be sending the girl off to the parental guillotine.

She drew a deep breath before continuing. The moment of the truth. “I gave one to your dad before class.”

All the blood drained from Abby’s face and she stumbled backward a step. “You did?” Panic highlighted her delicate features, and she bit down so hard on her lip Hannah halfway expected to see blood. “Was he—was he mad?”

“He was…surprised.” Hannah chose her words carefully, then sighed. No more lies; that’s what got Abby into this mess in the first mess. “But yes. He seemed upset—mostly because you snuck around. He seemed to think you know better than to wear makeup without permission.”

Abby closed her eyes briefly. “I know I shouldn’t have.” Then she locked her gaze with Hannah’s, eyes shiny with pending tears. “But I’m so tired of being a baby.”

* * *

Abby’s heartfelt admission tore at Jude’s heart, and he rested his forehead against the door frame of Sophia’s classroom, allowing the cool metal plating to calm his temper. He’d hurried to meet Abby after the final bell, ready to walk her straight to the car so he could dole out a much-pondered punishment for her deception over last weekend.

Until her confession pierced his conscience.

Was he pushing her so hard in the opposite direction of her mother that she’d eventually come full circle around the other side?

Jude’s stomach clenched, and he eased away from the door. Hannah shouldn’t have warned Abby about his discovery, though he guessed in Hannah’s shoes he’d have felt guilty, too. Still, did anyone trust him to do things his way for his own daughter?

Maybe his dream of having a big family needed to die. He already struggled to be a good father to the kid he had. Still, growing up as an only child hadn’t been fun. He wanted Abby to have siblings, to be a part of a big family unit she could feel safe in, rely on. Her childhood had been sketchy enough—she deserved stability. Love. Loyalty. It was already too late for a sibling to be close enough in age for her to play with, but she could easily take on the role of protector for them one day. Teach them things, show them the ropes of life.

Assuming Jude didn’t let her fall along the way.

A student hurrying down the hall, probably hoping to catch their bus, scurried past Jude, reminding him he shouldn’t be standing in the hallway imagining things that probably would never happen. He took a step toward the door, then hesitated, Abby’s distressed voice ringing in his ears. She’d been wrong to lie, but he wouldn’t embarrass her further by openly admitting he’d overheard her private conversation with Hannah. He’d back up a few steps and clomp in that direction so they’d have warning.

But Hannah’s soft response stopped him so fast, his loafer squeaked against the linoleum.

“Looking a little different doesn’t make you a baby.” Her gentle voice carried through the quietness of the now deserted hallway. “Besides, no matter what you wear or what you paint on your face, you’re a beautiful girl.”

A warning bell dinged in the back of Jude’s mind. Abby didn’t need frequent reminders of her appearance. Jude knew—from common sense, and from the dozens of parenting books thrust his way in the aftermath of his wife’s desertion—the importance of showing his daughter her worth. But he wouldn’t do that through overly praising her outward appearance and putting ideas in her head of how to abuse that beauty. She had to already know how stunning she was, anyway. Any daughter of Miranda’s had no choice to be otherwise. She didn’t need confirmation.

“I am?” Abby’s voice sounded so tiny Jude almost missed it. A fist landed in his stomach and he sucked in a hard breath. She honestly didn’t know? Impossible. But Abby wasn’t the type to beg for compliments. Beg for attention, maybe, or beg to get her own way—never for praise. He’d made sure of that growing up.

Sudden uncertainty gnawed a hole in Jude’s heart. Had he made sure of too much?

“Of course you are!” Hannah sounded as surprised as Jude felt. “Makeup wouldn’t change that one bit. What’s important is what’s on the inside.” She paused. “And disobeying your father is pretty ugly.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way.”

Jude risked a peek around the door frame, just enough to catch Abby absently scuffing the toe of her shoe against the floor. She wasn’t making eye contact with Hannah, but she was listening.

That was a whole lot further than he’d ever gotten with her.

Why did Abby push him away, yet take the same exact advice from a near stranger? The woman factor must play a bigger part than he realized. Jude ducked back around the corner and ran one hand over his hair, the gelled strands sliding through his fingers. Abby needed an older friend, some sort of constant female presence in her life. Someone to do the girl-talk thing, someone to give a viewpoint on life and morals that wasn’t his own repeating, broken record.

She needed a mom.

The thought broke a cold sweat on the back of Jude’s neck.

He didn’t want to be alone his entire life, and he truly wanted Abby to have sisters and brothers one day.

But out of all the women he’d casually dated over the past few years, there hadn’t been a single one who’d ever come close to prompting thoughts of marriage. Or, for that matter, there’d never been one whom Abby looked at as she’d looked at Hannah—with respect. Sincerity. Admiration.

The exact same things Jude saw in Hannah, despite his lingering aggravation at her interference.

Jude rubbed a hand down his jaw. Apparently the budget stress was affecting him worse than he’d thought. Marriage and Hannah in the same sentence? He’d barely met the woman, and already they’d offended each other twice. He’d seen the look on her face when she stormed out of his office—in the week they’d known each other, he’d given her more reasons to laugh at him than accept an offer of a date. No, that was out of the question.

Jude licked his suddenly dry lips, a rare sense of panic seeping into his soul as Hannah’s soft spoken clarifications of real beauty continued. She definitely had a handle on the concept of beauty that Miranda never had. But he needed to break up the little union forming inside before things got heavier, before Abby got even more attached.

Or before he did the same.

Chapter Five

Heavy footsteps preceded Jude into the classroom. Hannah hopped off the desk as if she were a student getting busted. She knew it’d be a matter of time until he showed up, but she still couldn’t help the twinge of sympathy as Abby’s face fell. The younger girl turned slowly to face her fate, head up, gaze down.

But Jude wasn’t looking at Abby.

“How was class?” He smiled at Hannah, casually—too casually.

She narrowed her eyes. Had he been listening outside the door? She crossed her arms over her chest, immediately defensive although he had every right to hear conversations about his daughter—in his school. Would he be mad she’d warned Abby about the photo? Or had he expected it?

“Class was great.” She had to be honest, even though saying something positive at the moment felt a little like losing whatever this weird battle was she’d found herself fighting.

Jude shoved his hands in his pants pockets and nodded slowly. “Always good to…hear.” A slight smirk lit his eyes as Hannah’s gaze jerked to meet his. Her neck flushed with heat. He’d listened, all right.

Enough of the games. “I better get going. I have a photo shoot to prepare for tomorrow.” Hannah shouldered her bag and offered Abby, who’d been silent during the entire exchange, an encouraging smile. “See you later this week.”

“Who’s your client?” Jude shifted his weight, resting against the side of Abby’s desk as if he had no cares in the world, no punishments to dole out, no points to prove.

No apologies to make.

Though on second thought, Hannah owed him one for her involvement in the first place. Best to call it even and move on.

But she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his arresting blue gaze.

“It’s an engagement shoot.” She had to look away during the word engagement. Even now, the thought of photographing the happy, smiling couple tomorrow tied her stomach in knots. Engagement shoots were always tough. Young people blissfully naive of the future, unaware of the way life could change in a single second, in the time it took for a drunk driver to run a red light. They believed everything would always be the way they’d planned—and why shouldn’t they? They had no reason to think otherwise.

No daily scars to remind them how deeply dreams were crushed.

“Are you free afterward?”

Jude’s voice ripped Hannah away from the past, leaving her gaping in the present. She opened her mouth, but words escaped her. Why in the world did Jude care what she did tomorrow? It wasn’t like he wanted to schedule his own photo shoot. And he wasn’t asking her out…surely not.

Surprise flickered across Jude’s expression, as if he startled even himself by the sudden question. But he squared his shoulders and repeated the shocking words. “Are you free afterward? I’d like to buy you a cup of coffee.”

Hannah’s breath hitched. Coffee? With Jude? Alone? She could think of about a dozen reasons to say no.

And maybe only one reason to say yes.

Abby looked between Hannah and her dad, confusion pinching her eyebrows. “What about me?”

“You’re going to be grounded.” Jude frowned, as if finally remembering why he even came to hunt Abby down in the first place. “So you’ll be doing homework while we’re out.” He lifted his gaze back to Hannah. “That is, if Ms. Hart agrees to go.”

“I—I…” Hannah’s voice trailed off, and she clutched at the necklace around her throat, desperate to hide the blush she couldn’t control that she knew by now had to be lighting her scar like a beacon. She tilted her head so her hair covered her left cheek, and nibbled on her lower lip. “I can’t.”

Abby released the breath she’d obviously been holding, and her shoulders slumped. Hannah knew the feeling. It almost hurt to say no. But what good could come from a coffee—dare she say date?—with Jude? For a moment, she’d wanted to entertain the idea that his quick temper and snappiness somehow stemmed from a connection with her, from a place he fought deep inside just as she did. That maybe he really did want to take her out, get to know her, see the real her beneath the pretension—and the scars.

But that was asking a lot of a man she’d known for a week, who at the moment had more reasons to fire her than take her on a date.

Jude must have seen Abby’s disappointment, too. “Abby, please go wait in the car.”

“But, Dad—”

“You’re not really in a position to argue here, honey.” Jude’s voice, gentle but firm, allowed no argument.

With a humble nod, Abby took the keys Jude handed her and scurried out of the room.

“You trust her with your keys?” Hannah couldn’t help her tone, couldn’t hold back the rest of the sentence that flitted between them, unspoken yet incredibly clear. But not with designer jeans and a little bit of makeup?

The hum of the fluorescent light above filled the silence, until Jude stepped a few feet closer, leaning against the student’s desk beside hers. “Abby’s a good kid.”

Hannah bit back the I know that threatened to pour out, and restrained herself to a nod as she crossed her arms, determined to listen without judgment.

Or at least without as much judgment. Handsome or not, the man remained a puzzle—especially when it came to all things Abby. How could someone who cared so much be so hard-nosed?

“I know there are rumors.” A muscle clenched in Jude’s jaw, and he looked down briefly, flicking a piece of lint off the leg of his slacks. “I don’t know if you believe them.”

The statement turned into a question. Hannah shrugged, her heart climbing in her throat. “I don’t see why it matters what I think.” Flashes of their previous conversation in his office danced before her, and she straightened her shoulders, her resolve about saying no strengthened. “You actually made it quite clear that it doesn’t.”

“And I owe you an apology—hence the coffee.” Jude offered a slight smile, one that set Hannah’s insides trembling more than she wanted to admit. “Besides, I overheard a little bit of what you told Abby. She really responds to you.” Jude looked over his shoulder, as if he could somehow see Abby through the layers of brick and steel. “I’d hoped maybe you’d give me some pointers.”

Jude’s lips thinned, as if the very act of saying the words out loud pained him, but it had to be hard to ask for help—a single dad, attempting to prove to the world he could handle a preteen by himself. It couldn’t be easy, and no matter how many times he lost his temper with her, Hannah admired him. Abby was obviously his responsibility—he hadn’t pawned her off as she’d see dads do before. He cared—maybe too much about the wrong things, but again, that was her opinion. What mattered the most was Abby. If he wanted help with her, how could she say no? While Hannah couldn’t fathom seeing Jude for any personal reasons, she could easily think of a sweet, blonde, blue-eyed reason to do just that.

“Okay.” She smiled back, hoping her smile didn’t shake as much as her hands did. “Coffee it is. I’ll be free around seven.”

They made plans to meet at a local shop not far from the school, and Jude rushed off to meet Abby at the car. Hannah packed up her camera bag, unsure what to do with the variety of emotions skittering inside. It wasn’t a date—for either of them. More like it was a desperate dad needing advice on how to girl-talk with his kid. Hopefully Hannah could help smooth things over for the mismatched father/daughter duo.

Without letting her heart get involved.

* * *

It was hard to concentrate on Monday night football when Jude spent more time replaying and analyzing his pathetic conversation with Hannah than the sports broadcasters did with the plays. Jude aimed the remote at the TV and clicked mute, successfully eliminating the monotone voices of the announcers but doing little to ease the thoughts that ricocheted through his head.

Something happened between the time he strolled inside the classroom, forcing a casual air as if he hadn’t been listening at the door, determined to break up the duo forming inside—and the time he opened his mouth and heard the request for a coffee date fly from his lips. Something had happened, all right. Something like the aroma of Hannah’s vanilla perfume teasing all logic from his senses. Something like the respect Abby was showing him for the first time in weeks.

Something like the idea of the three of them together.

He picked up his nearly empty cola and stared absently at the can. Crazy. He barely even knew Hannah, and here he was nudging into her life, picturing visions he had no right to imagine. But he did owe her an apology—his temper lately seemed more worthy of a pro wrestler than it did an assistant principal. He wasn’t leaving a very good impression of his school, and regardless of the stress he was under, regardless of the way she’d interfered with his daughter, Hannah didn’t deserve him behaving like he were in the ring.

God, when did I get like this? The prayer slipped through the cracks of the wall Jude erected some time ago, and he ran a hand over his rough jaw, in need of a shave. Miranda used to accuse him of being quick-tempered, but not like this. Never like this. He could see himself morphing into this person he didn’t want to be. Even now, remembering Abby’s lies and deceit sent his blood boiling a few degrees more than it should.

No wonder Miranda had chosen drugs and the high life over him.

Jude set his drink down and watched the commercial playing on the big screen with bleary eyes, wishing the headache roaring in the back of his head would stop—and take all the back and forth, wishy-washy contradictions over Hannah with it. No, he couldn’t bring Hannah any further into his messed-up world. Coffee would be an apology. Nothing more. Jude didn’t need to date an employee, even if she was a temp and not technically employed by the school. Nothing good could come from that. She’d be hanging around for a few weeks helping Sophia, and after all his blunders, he didn’t need to make that time more awkward than it already would be. Then she’d be gone, and his problem would be over.

Besides, Hannah could never truly own the title of Ms. Right, even if Jude grew even more selfish than he already was and actually wanted her to claim it. She was a photographer—everything in her thrived on making things beautiful through that thick camera lens.

He refused to fight that kind of ugly again. He saw where it led, what it destroyed. Better to steer clear than to get sucked in, especially where Abby was concerned.

Jude clicked the remote control and abrupt sound from the next commercial flooded his living room. He inched the volume down, mindful of Abby trying to sleep across the hall, and closed his eyes, wishing he remembered how to pray. Wishing he could erase the last decade’s worth of mistakes and choices.

* * *

“I have to admit, I’ve never heard of an engagement shoot taking place inside a skating rink.” Sophia set Hannah’s bag of props on the bench against the carpeted wall the next afternoon and sank down beside it.

Hannah held one finger to her lips, before waving to the young couple on the wooden rink a few yards away. “Lucy’s on the local Derby team. And Mark is— Well, Mark’s…”

“In love?” Sophia supplied, as Mark wobbled helplessly on his skates. He would have fallen, if Lucy hadn’t grabbed his arms. The couple laughed, the happy sound bubbling over the low brick wall separating them from Hannah.