His Texas Forever Family

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.”

Chapter Two

Paige took a deep breath, put a hand on her son’s shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“Owen, say hello to Mr. Campbell. He’s the new art teacher. You met this afternoon in class.”

Owen said nothing but looked up at Liam and reached out a small hand. He seemed to know instinctively that the adults had been talking about him, and Paige resisted the urge to reassure him that he wasn’t in trouble. It was important, the therapist had told her at their weekly meetings, to try to let Owen make his own decisions about interactions, to let him be uncomfortable at times, that the silence would at some point naturally urge him to speak. Paige had her doubts about that, but what else was there to do? If Dr. Roberts, who came highly recommended by people Paige trusted, couldn’t help Owen, then who could?

“Hi there, Owen,” said Liam. He offered a gentle grin and, rising from his chair, reached out to shake Owen’s suddenly trembling hand.

“That was some dragon you started this afternoon.” Liam’s eyebrows rose in admiration. The corner of Owen’s lips turned up, ever so slightly, at his new teacher’s compliment. “I’ve never seen such a great dragon before, and I can’t wait until it’s finished.”

Paige glanced at Liam over her son’s head as tender gratefulness filled her. Instead of pushing Owen to talk, or asking incessant questions despite the child’s silence, Liam simply treated him like a normal kid. Usually Owen was wary around new people, but somehow this man had caused her child to give a hint of a smile. But Paige told herself to stop thinking down that line. She should know by now not to wish for miracles for Owen.

Owen let go of Liam’s hand. He looked up at his mother as if asking her what he was supposed to do next, the familiar nervousness and desire to retreat into himself returning to his eyes. Paige squeezed his shoulder again and knelt down so she could look directly at him.

“Owen, why don’t you go out to see Emma and keep her company while I finish talking to Mr. Campbell? I won’t be long, and she has some new coloring books in her bottom drawer for you.” Owen’s shoulders relaxed with relief as he gripped the straps of his small red backpack. Paige put a hand on his back and nudged him out the door. She pressed the intercom and asked Emma to watch her son for a few moments.

Liam, still standing, lifted his hands, palms up. In his green eyes Paige saw the pity she found over and over in people’s faces when they discovered what Owen was going through. It never got any easier to stomach.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Liam asked.

A million conflicting emotions flooded through her. So he had noticed Owen’s silence, and seemed aware that it wasn’t just shyness or first-day nerves. Part of her admired Liam for that. A less observant teacher might have overlooked it completely, but this one had caught it on the first day in only an hour’s time. He must have more substance to him than his actions thus far had indicated.

On the other hand, she struggled to separate “mom” from “assistant principal,” though she knew she’d have to in order to talk about her son with his new teacher.

Paige shook her head and crossed her arms. The comfort she’d felt only a few moments ago vanished completely and she struggled for the right words to describe the complexity that was Owen’s selective mutism. Most people had trouble understanding how and why a child who had always been verbal could just stop talking, and their comments, though well meaning, could be hurtful.

“I would, actually—yes—but I don’t want you to treat Owen any differently from any other child just because he’s my son.”

Paige hesitated, alternating between feeling a desire to unburden herself and wanting Liam to take his sympathy and leave. “Mr. Campbell...”

“Liam,” he corrected.

“...Liam. It takes time for most teachers—and most people, for that matter—to even notice that Owen doesn’t speak to anyone but me. He tends to keep to himself and blend in. I admire that you were able to pick up on it so quickly. No doubt I judged you, and your teaching abilities, too quickly, but I’d appreciate if you’d think of Owen no more or less than any other child in your classes.”

“I get it,” he said, moving toward the door. “It’s the first day of school and it’s understandable.”

The kind concern left his eyes and for some reason he seemed to bristle at her words. His body visibly tensed, as though he felt insulted.

“I can assure you that Owen will receive no special treatment from me on account of who his mother is.”

Paige nodded. Each time she’d interacted with Liam, awkward tension seemed to arise, and she wished she could erase it. “But,” he said, the words lilting softly with his gentle West Texas drawl, “it’s mighty important to me that you know that my tardiness this morning will not be a regular thing, and I apologize. I’m very much looking forward to working with the kids and I want you to know that I take this job seriously.”

He hesitated as he watched her face closely, his green eyes searching hers. He took a step closer to her, and though he remained at a respectable distance, a strange shiver ran up Paige’s spine.

“And you can trust me,” he added

Despite his kindness toward Owen, Paige didn’t want to trust Liam Campbell. Even trustworthy men, like Mark, could be taken from you at the drop of a hat. She stepped forward and opened the door for him.

As he walked out, Liam met her eyes. Paige wondered if she would ever be able to look at him without her silly heart skipping over his incredible handsomeness. It would be pretty inconvenient if not.

“Listen,” he said. “About Owen...if you ever need to talk about what’s going on with him—strictly teacher to assistant principal, of course—I’d be glad to discuss it further with you. I have some experience in childhood therapy, and I’d be happy to share it with you.”

Paige shook her head. “That’s kind of you, but unless Owen has a problem in class or he’s not getting work done that he needs to, I think I’ve got it under control. He has a therapist who we’re both working with and, well, the man’s supposedly the best there is.”

But the best hadn’t been good enough to help her son so far. At what point was she going to admit that Owen might never speak to anyone besides her again? What if her nightmare came true and he caved further into himself and stopped speaking altogether, even to her? When would she be able to admit, to herself and to everyone else, that he just wasn’t getting better?

Paige didn’t want to think about that now.

“Okay, then,” said Liam. “I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“Thank you,” she said, trying to smile reassuringly. Most of the time there seemed enough of her to go around, but only just. Paige’s mother had raised Paige and her sister alone when their father had left. So Paige could manage, too. She’d have to, after the loss of Mark.

She had to admit, though, that she was curious about what experience Liam might have with Owen’s disorder. On any other day, she would have allowed Liam to speak more about it. But right now, Paige wanted nothing more than to simply rest her muscles in a boiling hot bath, then curl up on the couch with Owen—and maybe a glass of red wine, which was an indulgence she rarely allowed herself, but one she could sure use today.

Paige collected Owen, agreeing to let him take home one of the coloring books that Emma kept for family conferences. Owen grabbed the book and his backpack, and they made their way out to Paige’s old blue pickup.

“Hey, Owen, want to stop at Barb’s for dinner?” she asked, as they stepped out of the air-conditioned school and the warm summer afternoon wrapped itself around them.

Owen’s blue eyes widened and he nodded his head vigorously at the name of their favorite diner. Once settled in the car, they headed toward Main Street, the August heat dancing in shimmery waves across the asphalt. They both averted their eyes when they passed their old house, which Paige and Owen had shared with Mark as a family. She tried to ignore the urge to pull into the driveway and settle back into her old life. As much as she might wish it, Mark would not be in the backyard, grilling burgers on his day off, or waiting in the kitchen for her with a glass of wine, ready to listen to her talk about her day at work. That life was gone now.

She and Owen had done their best to remain in the house for as long as possible after Mark’s death. Paige had been concerned that if they moved, any remaining stability that Owen had in his tumultuous life at that time would have vanished just like his father, so she’d kept the house and had kept Owen from knowing how tight the walls felt around her. She’d kept to herself how hard it was for her to live there. But eventually, to her relief, Owen had asked Paige if they could leave the house and she’d agreed.

The house was large and beautiful, almost as old as the town of Peach Leaf itself, and had been in Mark’s family for years. It had been a gift from his grandmother when she and Mark had married, and they’d accepted it with the starry, hopeful eyes of newlyweds before they’d realized what went into maintaining such a place. Paige had grown tired of cleaning it, refusing to hire a housekeeper for something she was perfectly capable of doing on her own, but it had been home, and they’d loved it like the family member it was.

At least until Mark’s death.

Paige could still recall the way her heart had dropped straight to the bottom of her chest that night. The doorbell had chimed as she’d finished clearing the dinner dishes and she’d opened it to find Fire Chief Garcia and one of Mark’s colleagues standing on her front porch. She’d barely been able to focus on the chief’s words as he’d gone over the details of the incident and Mark’s success at retrieving an infant, before he died of smoke inhalation.

She shuddered at the memory.

When she and Owen decided to move away from the house, she’d walked through each room, lingering for long moments to store the place in her memory. And now each time they passed, she wondered if they’d ever be free of their loss. If they would ever be able to rebuild as a family.

After dinner, which consisted of Barb’s incredible fried chicken and a dessert of homemade vanilla ice cream, made even sweeter by the red vinyl bar stools and black-and-white checkered tiles that Owen loved so much, they headed home, or at least what had passed for home for the past six months.

As Paige drove, Owen chatted about his first day, and her heart did an unwelcome little flip when he mentioned his new art teacher. It seemed Liam Campbell had occupied both their minds all day, whether she liked it or not.

They arrived home to their condo, which was just outside of town and close enough to work that when the weather was nice, they could bike to school together. Paige did the best she could to spend as much time as possible with her son. Though she often wondered if her career was too stressful at this time in her life, she enjoyed her position and especially loved being around the kids. It was a good job and it allowed Owen to have what he needed. She just wasn’t sure anymore what exactly it was that he did need, and, the longer he went without speaking to others, she was losing hope in her ability to provide it.

Her thoughts wandered again to Liam as she got ready for bed, and she tried not to dwell on his offer to discuss Owen. She didn’t need another person to make promises and offer new ideas or treatments. They’d all had enough, and it was getting to the point where Paige was beginning to accept that this was just going to be their life.

* * *

The next day at school, Paige avoided Liam. All they’d had was a simple, professional exchange...there was no need to deal with him any further today, unless something came up with Owen.

So why, then, could she not stop thinking about him? There was the part about him being incredibly good-looking. But what was it that kept him on her brain through her morning conferences, through phone calls with parents and through her break? Unfortunately, she had the teacher meeting at three that afternoon, just after school let out. She would have to be chatty with everyone, Liam included.

When Paige arrived at the assembly, the cafeteria was pulsing with teachers milling about, sharing stories from their summer just like the kids had the day before. Paige wondered if anyone else had heard the rumors swirling that Principal Matthews was thinking of retiring

There had been a time when Paige would have loved to take over the position, but after Mark’s death, when she’d suddenly turned into a single parent, she had put the thought of becoming principal out of her mind. Besides, she probably didn’t have enough experience to get Principal Matthews’s job, and there were plenty of teachers who had been working at the school far longer than she. Still, Paige couldn’t help mentally crossing her fingers on the off-chance that she had a shot.