by Bonnie Drury
"To my friend, Jack, who's always been a guardian angel, then...and now."
by Trace Edward Zaber
Nominated by RIO for the Dorothy Parker Award of Excellence, Paranormal Available at Amber Quill Press
"A Matter of Destiny is a paranormal romance that tugs at one's heart and inspires faith in love. I'll be looking forward to more books from the talented Bonnie Drury." Sally G. Laturi, Ivy Quill Reviews
"A Matter of Destiny is an enjoyable tale that made me feel good. I loved the ending. A warm, wonderful story that I highly recommend." Jani Brooks, Romance Reviews Today
EXCERPT
Prologue:
"Joseph, it's time for you to return to earth."
Joseph stood before his superior, Head Guardian Serena, and wondered how he could change her mind. An ethereal mist swirled around them with the ever-present sound of music filling the air.
"I know what you're thinking," she said, "and it won't work."
"But..."
"That's not a good reason, either."
Joseph drew himself into a meditative pose to protect his thoughts. He knew his vulnerable points, his shortcomings, when it came to dealing with earthlings. Mainly, he was far too "human" himself. He'd painfully proven that point.
Serena connected with his mind despite his efforts. “I know how you are, Joseph, how you hurt with the pain of a child’s death, even knowing it lasts but a moment. When lovers part, you feel as if it happened to you. I’ve seen you pace with parents as they face an endless night of worry.”
It was true. Joseph was fascinated by all that human beings experienced. “I do wonder where they find their strength.” He knew the answer to that, but they seemed to struggle on, even without benefit of the Knowledge.
Serena smiled. “Remember when you argued in Assembly that the Knowledge should be bestowed upon them?”
“Yes, and my opinion was in the minority. Especially after Adam and Eve squandered their chance.”
Serena waited with an amused expression. Her kindness created an aura for her astounding beauty. Golden curls cascaded to the hem of her gown, and her eyes were as blue as a cloudless summer sky.
"I want to do my share with the earthlings, but I don't think I'm the right guardian for this mission." He'd felt a prickling on the back of his neck ever since he was summoned.
Serena smiled her all-knowing smile. "Oh, but you're wrong, Joseph. You're perfect for this particular assignment. I'm not saying it will be a simple one.
Her name is Sharon Quinn."
Chapter One
Tom was in bed beside her, his callused, yet gentle hands stroking her naked body as she arched toward him. It was always good between them. She wanted more. Sharon stirred, and her arms closed around an oversized pillow.
Her eyes fluttered open as she waited for the dream to become reality. But there was no Tom, she remembered with a tightening in her chest. Not since the accident last February. The familiar nausea returned as it did every time she woke up and reached for her husband. Why, God? Her unspoken question reverberated through the room. That’s all she wanted to know…why?
Her answer was nothing but silence. If only she could hide beneath the covers and never come out. She shook her head.
“You must go on, lass,” she heard her father say. “One day at a time.”
She sighed. “Okay, dad, for you, for today.” Sharon went through the ritual each morning, convincing herself to get up.
She struggled out of bed and dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, and a bright pink sweatshirt. After brushing her chestnut hair back, she wound it into a knot on top of her head and pulled a knit cap over it.
Her body ached for activity after the frustrated longing of her dream. How long would the visions continue to invade her sleep? Sometimes a week or more passed without them, but they always returned.
Sharon slipped out of the house and paused on the front porch to breathe in the brisk morning air. Dawn crawled along the horizon, and the sun cast a rosy glow over the sleeping town.
Pink and blue clouds stretched across the morning sky. Sharon loved the way the little town looked this time of day, tucked away from the hustle-bustle of the world beyond. She took solace from the birds singing in the trees and the brisk breeze that spoke of late summer in northern Idaho. Soon, the leaves would change into the burnt orange of autumn.
Sharon hoped that walking would rid her of the feeling that she was about to fall apart. She propped the squeaky gate against the faded fence and headed toward the river at a slow pace.
The main section of Hollow Bend was founded on a bluff. Its location kept it safe from the Kootenai River, which ran alongside for several miles before veering into the forest.
Sharon took the path down to the river and strolled for about half a mile before the haunting images crowded in upon her again. If only she could shut off her mind, she could find peace.
Slowly at first, she began to run, then faster and faster.
If she ran fast enough, maybe she could leave her memories behind, but they drummed into her head like the pounding of horses' hooves on dry land.
Her cheeks grew hot as she ran along the path, vaguely aware of her surroundings. The river looked calm, but she knew the waters ran deep and swift beneath the surface. "Faster, Sharon, run faster," the ghosts of the past seemed to say.
Suddenly, someone appeared in the path, but she didn't react quickly enough. Sharon tumbled head-on into the man, pushing him backwards to the ground.
"What the..." was all he managed.
As the imagined demons retreated, Sharon's consciousness began to clear. She lay on the ground, entangled with a stranger whose arms were wrapped around her. She could hear the loud beating of his heart against her ear.
For a moment, Sharon tried to believe it was Tom and allowed herself to revel in his warmth, but only for a moment.
She struggled to her feet and looked down at the person she'd run over. Offering him a hand up, she grimaced apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I didn't see you... Say, aren't you Luke's new math teacher?" Luke had pointed him out at freshman orientation.
"Yes, I am," he said, standing. "You were running like someone or something was chasing you. What was it?"
The ascending sun filtered through the tamarack's golden leaves overhead. Sharon lifted her gaze to his as he brushed soggy leaves from his gray sweat pants.
"Nothing," she answered. "I just felt like running."
He studied her for a moment, then said, "The name's Joe Reardon, Mrs. Quinn. I'm sorry about your husband."
"Thank you." A strange sensation swept through her as his dark penetrating eyes seemed to look deep inside her. She shivered.
"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," he said.
Sharon nodded, though she had no intention of asking for anyone's help. No one could give Tom back to her.
He paused a moment longer, then said, "Take care," as he pushed off to continue along the path.
Sharon watched him go, marveling at how effortlessly he picked up speed, his feet barely touching the earth.
Confused by her own interest, she began to jog in the opposite direction, needing to stop every ten minutes or so to catch her breath.
Sharon felt as if she'd run twenty miles by the time she'd rounded the loop back to Main Street, but she'd only gone about two miles total.
Hollow Bend was waking now. A door slammed in the distance, a dog barked. From down the street came an answering bark. Sharon turned toward home, and the morning breeze hurried her on her way.
The image of Joe Reardon remained with her. He seemed nice, but one was conditioned to be wary of strangers in a small town. She wondered if Luke knew more about him. Her son was drawn to the man, probably because he missed his father.
There was something about Joe Reardon she couldn't quite put her finger on.
The next day, Sharon asked her friend, Paula, about the new man in Hollow Bend.
“Where did you meet him?” said Paula with a curious expression.
Sharon couldn’t help smiling. “Plowed into him, is more like it.”
Paula folded her elbows on the kitchen table. “Sounds interesting. He’s made quite a stir among the single women in town.”
“I can see why,” Sharon murmured.
The boys came in from an afternoon at the movies, so the subject was dropped. But before Paula left, she whispered, “I’ll call later, and you can tell me more.”
David and Luke went straight to the kitchen where they broke into an argument. “Lighten up,” Luke told his older brother.
“Grow up,” David retorted.
Sharon stepped into the room. “All right, what’s going on?”
They at least had the good sense to look sheepish. Luke spoke first. “David’s always putting me down in front of my friends. He says we’re a bunch of idiots.”
Sharon turned to her firstborn. “David?”
David glared at his brother. “Well, they are.”
Sharon persisted. “Why do you say that?”
“Because.” David was beginning to squirm under her scrutiny. “I’m just fed up with everything, that’s all.” With that, he left the room and bounded up the stairs.
Sharon turned to Luke. “What brought that on?”
He shrugged. “Who knows? Isn’t he always in a bad mood?”
Sharon realized he was right. She should have realized how unhappy David was. She went upstairs and knocked on his door, but he said, “I’m tired, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She hesitated and wondered if she should insist on talking to him now, but maybe he just needed some privacy. She decided it could wait. When she heard music from his room, she felt a little better.
Several nights later, Sharon woke suddenly and sat upright. She was moist with a cold sweat and tried to recall what had frightened her. Then she remembered.
In her nightmare, Sharon was the only barrier between her boys and a deep fiery pit.
With a long, rawhide whip, she fought off unimaginable terrors to protect them. It had seemed so real she could still feel the scorching heat of the flames.
She slipped out of bed and padded across the cold hardwood floor to the window. Her green eyes searched the moonlit clouds, but she heard only the distant hooting of an owl.
Sharon wasn't ready to go back to sleep. She'd come to the deepest part of the river and realized she had to decide whether to sink or swim. After silent meditation, she vowed to salvage her life. And her sons’. They could make it, together.
As a symbolic first step, Sharon went into the guest bathroom and filled the old-fashioned tub with hot bubbly water. When ready, she stepped into it. The wall-papered room soon misted with the fragrance of honeysuckle.
A bath never failed to calm her nerves. Leaning back, she felt her muscles relax for the first time in months. Sharon allowed the warmth to permeate her body and refused to think about anything. Not consciously, anyway.
Later, when she crawled back into bed, Sharon gave her thoughts free rein.
She wanted to live. Even without Tom, forgive me, Tom, her survival instincts were strong. It was the first time she’d admitted she wanted to go on, regardless.
The silent promise of tomorrow became a soothing balm to her grief-stricken heart rather than a frightening monster. One day at a time, she vowed before falling into a dreamless sleep.
The sun shone brightly the next morning, waking her early. It was always chilly in the old log house, winter or summer, but Sharon loved her home. The ancient stand of towering cedar trees gave her some privacy from the neighbors. She knew from local folklore that the homestead had been hand-hewn nearly eighty years ago.
When she went downstairs and checked the refrigerator, Sharon found just enough bacon and eggs for breakfast and a little leftover stew from the night before.
With a deep sigh, she turned on the flame under a black iron skillet and arranged the bacon slices into the pan.
The boys came straggling downstairs as the aroma of sizzling bacon drifted upward. They’d have to get used to getting up earlier when school started next week.
Fair-haired Luke grinned. "Mornin' Mom," he said, sneaking a piece of bacon.
What a gift to wake up with a smile, she thought. Her fourteen-year-old was as husky as his father.
Dark-haired David, two years older than Luke, wore one of Tom's old shirts, and it hung loosely on his adolescent frame. She gave them both a kiss before turning back to the stove.
"Who wants to go to the grocery store with me?" she asked.
A duet of groans answered her. "Do we have to?" said Luke.
David was slower to reply, but obviously found the suggestion just as distasteful. "If you want."
Sharon remembered when a trip to the store was a treat for them, especially when they were allowed to pick out their favorite breakfast cereal. She supposed they were too old now for such simple pleasures.
"Okay, guys, I'll do the shopping, and you can get started on the firewood. It needs to be split and stacked if it’s going to be good and dry by winter. I’m glad your father bought a good supply before..."
A short stab of pain raced through her. She took a deep breath and it subsided.
They needed to talk about Tom more often, until it became a comfort. She admitted that Tom had always been late getting the wood ready, but pushed the disloyal thought aside.
"That's even worse," Luke said, his mouth turning downward. "I'd rather go shopping...I think."
"Too late, you had your chance. I want you to work on the firewood anyway. We'll have to remember all the things that need to be done before winter."
Luke shrugged good-naturedly. "Okay."
David didn’t say anything, but seemed to be deep in thought.
“Are you okay, honey?” she asked. His dark moods scared her sometimes. She was afraid he’d slip into one and never come out.
He looked straight at her. “Sure, Mom, I’m fine.”
Sharon turned and lifted the crisp slices out of the pan and drained off the grease. Then she poured in a fluffy mixture of eggs and milk. The simple act of cooking a meal had become a dreaded chore after they lost Tom, but she was trying to get back into the habit. She was afraid she’d spent too many months in a fog of grief. No wonder her sons felt lost.
“Can you buy some steaks this time?” Luke asked with a persuasive tilt of his head.
Sharon’s heart sank. “I’m sorry, hon, but we’ve got to watch every penny for awhile.” Especially after the money she’d spent on their school clothes and supplies.
“What about Dad’s insurance money,” David said quietly.
She shrugged. “There’s a lot of red tape holding it up.” Sharon was surprised David had even brought up anything relating to his father’s death. He never wanted to talk about it.
She tried to be upbeat. “We’ll do the best we can, okay? You still love my great spaghetti, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mom,” David said after a moment’s pause, “we love your spaghetti.”
After they finished eating, Sharon went upstairs to dress. She pulled on jeans and a pale blue pullover and noticed she'd lost more weight.
Sharon plaited the sides of her hair and clipped the braids together in the back, letting the rest hang loose. She used makeup sparingly, just mascara and lipstick. The dark smudges under her eyes were fading, but the hint of sadness was still there.
When she went downstairs, Sharon heard a steady chopping sound from the backyard and called out a goodbye. The boys barely paused to wave.
Out of friendship, she usually shopped at Smallwood's General Store for quick run-ins and an exchange of gossip. Today, Sharon really needed to stock up and drove to the supermarket on Tamarack Hill.
The aromas from the in-store bakery greeted her and made her stomach growl, even though she'd just eaten. "Will power, Sharon," she told herself firmly as she walked past the mouth-watering temptations.
She had to stick to essentials.
It was reassuring, however, that her appetite was coming back. For awhile, she thought food would never again hold any appeal.
Sharon studied the items on her list as she went up and down the aisles, carefully totaling the figures as she added each product to the cart.
She was so engrossed with her addition she didn't watch where she was going. Kerthump. The cart crashed into an immovable object.
Sharon glanced up, startled. "Oh no, not again. I'm really not out to get you, Mr. Reardon." She was relieved to see a grin on his rugged face, noting irrelevantly that his teeth were perfect.
"Maybe I should wear a reflector whenever you're around,” he kidded her.
He wore faded jeans and a red plaid shirt jacket, resembling a lumberjack more than a teacher. But as she recalled, Luke had mentioned he was also an assistant coach, thus the outdoorsy look.
"What are you staring at?" he asked.
"Your nose is crooked," she murmured without thinking.
He lifted his hand to his face. "Just for the record, ma'am," he said with an exaggerated drawl, "my nose was broken years ago."
"Fighting over a woman?"
Sharon didn't know why she'd asked such a question, but she could picture him with sword and armor, battling for a lady's honor. There was something about him that intrigued her, and that fact made her uncomfortable.
His expression grew serious. "Maybe," he said in answer to her question, then regained his good humor. "By the way, what's your jogging schedule so I can wear my bumper guards?"
Sharon smiled again, and it felt good. "I don't know, but I promise to be more careful."
Joe shifted his weight, and Sharon assumed he wanted to be on his way. She glanced down at the growing pile of groceries in her basket and said, "I'd better finish my shopping and get some of this stuff in the freezer. Nice seeing you."
"Likewise," he said, sounding disappointed. "I guess I’d better get going, too."
When he pushed his cart past, she couldn't help snickering.
He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Now what? Are my ears on crooked, too?"
"No, you just don't seem the type to be pushing a grocery cart."
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Even confirmed bachelors have to eat."
"Right." She gave him a quick, embarrassed wave and hurried around the corner.
**
Joseph had lost all his powers of concentration as far as grocery shopping was concerned. He stared blankly at the shelves, then decided to make do with what he'd already selected. He was happy to see Sharon Quinn today, especially after what Luke had told him. The boy came to him a couple days ago, offering to help set up the classroom. They’d worked together for about an hour when Luke asked, “Mr. Reardon, can I ask you something?”
Joe turned from the chalkboard and motioned for Luke to sit in one of the desks. “What is it, Luke?”
“Well, you know about my dad…”
Joe nodded, encouraging the boy to continue.
Luke fingered the edge of his book, then looked up. “My mom acts so confused lately. Do you think something’s wrong with her, besides…you know…”
“I think I know what you mean, Luke. You’re all going through a difficult time. The process of healing seems slow, but you will get through it.”
“It’s just that…she forgets what she’s doing. She’ll walk into the room, stand there, then turn around and walk out.”
“The confusion is natural, Luke, trust me. Your mother is a very brave woman, and stronger than you think. Than she thinks.”
Luke sighed and slid out of the desk. “I guess you’re right. David and I just have to be patient with her.”
Joe hid a smile at the young man’s compassion for his mother. “You and David are everything to her. You know that, don’t you?”
Luke grinned and said, “I know.”
After the boy left, Joe stared into space. What he’d told Luke was true, that his mother was a brave woman. She was also more beautiful each time Joe saw her. Sharon Quinn’s auburn hair and striking green eyes would stand out even in a big city. He was sure she was unaware of her beauty, and most certainly, unaware of him.
But why did she affect him so deeply? Because she was unattainable? Or was it merely sympathy that made his palms sweat and his mouth go dry when she came into view?
He had to find his objectivity, or he'd fail his mission. He wasn't supposed to think like a man, was he? Or was that one of the trials Serena mentioned?
Joseph knew his presence was important. The Quinn family needed a guardian, and he'd been chosen. But right now, he had to stand in line at the check-out.
**
When Sharon put her groceries away, it seemed like she brought home far more than she'd paid for from her meager budget. She shook her head, figuring she must be mistaken. Her cheerful mood lingered. The deep ache was a part of her, but at least she accomplished something today.
And so had her sons. They’d done a good job with the firewood, splitting and stacking a half-cord since she'd been gone. She'd reward them with BLT's and French fries, with strawberry yogurt for dessert.
Sharon had just finished the last batch of fries when the boys stomped through the back door, flushed from the physical exertion. “There’s my woodsmen now,” she exclaimed with pride.
David's dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and Luke's blond head looked as though he'd spun around on it.
She studied them both, with love welling up inside, knowing it was up to her to make them happy. They were worth the effort.
**
Within another month, Sharon had to admit she needed a job. The insurance money had come through, but it would be depleted in no time without a regular income, other than Tom’s social security check. She called her friend, Paula, for moral support.
“Want to have lunch with me today?" Rather than wait for an answer, she hurried on, not giving Paula a chance to refuse. "I'm going to start looking for a job this morning, and I'll probably need a dose of confidence by noon."
"I'd love to," Paula said, "where shall we meet?"
Sharon breathed a sigh of relief. She could always count on Paula. "How about the Chicken Coop?"
They agreed on a time, then hung up.
The boys had already left for school, so she took a leisurely shower. When she'd finished, Sharon selected a soft coral dress with long sleeves and belted waistline, pulling it over her head.
Tom had especially liked the outfit, and Sharon knew she looked her best. Skillfully applying her makeup, she used a soft gray eyeshadow to emphasize her gray-green eyes.
"Not bad for a mother of two teenagers," she said aloud, surveying the results in the full-length mirror.
She pinned her hair into a French twist, then added tiny pearl earrings and a spray of rose-scented cologne.
Unable to delay the moment any longer, she slipped into matching shoes and a short wool coat. The temperature took a sharp dive this time of year. Even her car protested the cold by coughing twice before starting.
Sharon had no idea where to look first. She had to think before heading for the local newspaper office. It was as good a place as any. She'd worked on the high school paper and remembered it had been a lot of fun.
She entered the front office of the Hollow Bend News and knew why she'd checked there first as the clickety-clack of the presses and the smell of printers' ink filled the building.
In the back of her mind, she'd carried a picture of the bustling newsroom she'd seen in movies and a vision of herself as the hot new investigative reporter.
But so much for fantasies. The Hollow Bend newsroom wasn’t exactly bustling. Only one person pecked away on a typewriter. The bright overhead lights gave the impression of the burning sun over a barren desert.
Sharon stood in the entryway for a few moments before the woman at the typewriter glanced up. She knew Doris Bateman, though not very well.
Doris peered over gold-rimmed glasses, her salt-and-pepper hair stiff from her weekly session at Scissors, the local beauty salon. Everyone in town knew the Scissors’ style.
"Mrs. Quinn, how are you?" She half-stood, then eased her plump figure back into the chair. "Come on in and sit down."
Sharon did as Doris suggested, then waited for the chance to say what was on her mind as the other woman rambled on.
“Seems like I never get caught up, ya know. Of course, I do have my slow days. That’s when I get my crocheting done, for the grandkids and such.” She laughed. “Got six now, you know, and one on the way.”
Sharon was surprised, but relieved, when Doris didn't mention the Quinn family’s recent loss.
Finally, the flood of words stopped, and Sharon interjected, "Mrs. Bateman, can you help me? I'm looking for a job."
Doris chewed on the end of her pencil as she appeared to think it over. "Well, I'd have to check with the boss, of course, but the only opening is Ida Kelson's column. You know, the one she writes about what everyone's doing. She says it's getting to be too much for her, but it pays $10 a column and a turkey at Christmas."
Sharon thought at first the woman was joking, then realized she wasn't. Considering her sons' appetites, the turkey was tempting, but...
Taking a deep breath, she said, "I think I'll have to make a little more than that, but thank you for your time." She left quickly, then paused outside the building, wondering where to try next.
She was new at this. When Tom was alive, she'd wanted nothing more than to keep their home running smoothly. Now that existence seemed sheltered and safe.
Drawing herself up straight, she started walking.
**
Joseph's guardian consciousness watched over Sharon even while his human persona taught class. He'd always gotten a kick out of being in two places at once.
He felt her disappointment as keenly as if it were his own and considered using one of the miracles at his disposal.
"No, Joseph," Serena said. "She must learn to be strong and take care of herself. You'll find other ways to help."
His heart gave a little twist, anticipating what she still had to endure.
“I thought we guardians had more leeway,” he protested.
“At the appropriate times,” she insisted gently, “in the appropriate way.”
Joseph didn’t argue further. He had an idea.
**
The library...she'd always been an avid reader. Maybe they could use someone.
Twenty minutes later, Sharon had been told in no uncertain terms, that it took more than a thirst for the written word to qualify for work in the library. “Of course, if you’re interested in volunteering...” the head librarian hinted.
The only department store in town, the Pin and Feathers, was taking applications for on-call work. Sharon filled one out, just in case nothing else turned up.
By this time, she felt quite desperate and ready for a lunch break.
Her friend already waited at the Chicken Coop when Sharon arrived. They both loved the homey atmosphere of the small café with its red-and-white checkered tablecloths and chimney stack lights.
Paula wore a green wool dress and her dark curly hair glistened with highlights. She'd told Sharon that Ty liked it that way. Paula looked prettier than she had in a long time. The friends hugged one another and went inside.
They chose a table next to a window, even though the only view was the tree-lined highway leading out of town.
“I love watching the cars go by,” she told Paula. “Is that silly?” It reminded her of when she was a little girl, imagining exotic faraway places whenever she heard the distant mournful cry of a train whistle.
“No, it’s not silly,” Paula assured her, like a true friend.
After ordering, they sat back to catch up on news. "How's the job hunting?" Paula asked.
Sharon groaned. "Not so good. I've discovered nothing can shatter one's ego as quickly as looking for employment. It's been so long, since before I was married."
"Have you tried the Pin and Feathers?"
Sharon nodded.
"How about the library?"
"Yes, and the newspaper office. That's as far as I've gotten. They all say they'll keep me in mind, but none pays much, if anything at all. I could drive into Sandpoint if I have to, but I think the boys need me close by."
At that moment, Sharon spotted Father Simmons as he sauntered into the small family restaurant and headed straight for their table.
It was obvious he'd just been to the barber, his white hair was so short. His lined face was untroubled, as if he hadn't a care in the world. Sharon knew better.
"Sharon, Paula, how've you been?"
"Fine," they both answered, then Sharon asked him to sit down.
He did. "What're you lovely ladies up to?"
"Job hunting," Sharon explained, then briefly outlined her day thus far. "Paula's here to boost my spirits."
The priest listened intently, rubbing his chin as she spoke. His blue eyes seemed to sparkle with an inner light.
"Have you tried the school district? They might need someone. Right after the new semester begins, the administration posts the openings they haven't filled."
“That’s a good idea. Thank you, Father. I’ll check into it right after lunch.”
“Glad to help.” He excused himself, then joined an elderly couple at another table.
After he'd left, Sharon turned to her friend. "How's Ty?"
Paula stared out the window, her blue eyes filling with tears. Turning back to Sharon, she said, "We can't seem to get along at all, and he won't talk to me about it. He just..."
She stopped, and Sharon reached over to squeeze Paula's hand.
"I wish you'd talk to Father Simmons about it. He's counseled married couples for years, and might be able to help."
Paula shook her head. "I couldn't. Ty would be furious if he knew I'd talked about our marriage to anyone, especially someone he didn't know."
"You have to do something. I'll go with you if you want."
Paula drew her lips into a straight line. "No, Sharon. Thank you, but no."
Sharon sighed. "All right, I'll drop it." She felt helpless in the face of Paula's unhappiness.
The waitress brought their chicken salads, the spicy meat and tangy dressing making a delicious combination. Sharon ate with relish, admitting to a twinge of envy that Paula had a husband to worry about.
She was certain Ty loved Paula very much, but he was such a proud man. Paula had told her he was dissatisfied with the way things had turned out for them.
“I have to make this work,” Paula said quietly.
Sharon pictured the big Scandinavian in her mind. Ty was over six feet tall, with hair bleached nearly white by the sun. He worked hard on their small farm, but had been difficult to talk to lately.
Tom had tried to find his friend work at the logging company before the accident. She set down her fork and swallowed hard, trying to concentrate on Paula's anecdotes about her eight-year-old Jason.
"I've never seen a child with so much energy," Paula said. "It wears me out just watching him."
Sharon laughed. "You should have seen Luke when he was small. Believe me, I know what you're going through. Maybe they grow out of it eventually."
Paula shook her head and laughed. "That's encouraging."
Sharon's attention wandered as a sudden vision of Tom wrestling with a four-year-old Luke popped into her mind. She stared out the window, seeing only the past.
Paula touched her arm. "Sharon, are you all right?"
"What? Oh, I was just..." She stopped, realizing she didn't want to burden her friend, who had her own problems. “I was just thinking how great a friend you are.”
About twenty minutes later, Sharon pushed back her chair. "Thanks for meeting me, Paula. Once again, you've given me the courage to face the world."
Paula smiled, but the worry remained in her eyes. "Good luck. Call me tonight and tell me what happened."
Sharon headed for the Hollow Bend Middle and High School, located on Tamarack Hill where the school overlooked the Kootenai River. She felt a budding excitement at the prospect of working there.
She pushed through the heavy glass door into the Administration Office and shivered when a stiff breeze brushed past her legs.
Sharon hesitated when she saw the receptionist. The woman looked about twenty-five and exuded an air of complete confidence. Her blue business suit was beautifully tailored, and her dark hair cut very short, the picture of the perfect secretary.
There's nothing wrong with the way I look, Sharon told herself. Clearing her throat, she said, "Excuse me." The woman glanced up, then waited for her to go on. "I was wondering, are you taking applications?"
The secretary rummaged through a drawer, then stood with several papers in her hand. "There are three openings right now, a receptionist/clerk position, cafeteria worker, and library assistant. Fill out this application and questionnaire, and we'll keep them on file."
She handed the papers to Sharon, along with a pencil, then went back to her desk.
Sharon surveyed the room for a place to write and spotted a row of school desks lined up against the wall. She eased into one of them and studied the forms. As she tapped her pencil on the desk, trying to figure out the best answers, the outer door opened and Joe Reardon came into the office.
