Chapter 12

12

F inley left the teacher's lounge early, returning to her classroom while her students were still at lunch. She rearranged the furniture some so that it would be easier to place them in groups as they returned from eating for the project she had in mind. She sat at her desk when finished, her thoughts turning to last night.

The private tasting with Ivy had been enjoyable. Finley had done a couple of these with Ivy before, and each time, she learned more about wines. Ivy was so knowledgeable and natural when she dispensed information, making those sampling wines feel at ease as she imparted interesting tidbits, helping them discover the wines they enjoyed.

Ana had been partial to whites and rosés, while Wolf went for the darkest of reds. Finley had watched Holden's reactions to the different wines as he found he liked those in the range from Pinot Noirs to Merlots best.

After the tasting ended, Ivy took them to her studio, a place Finley had never visited before. It was on the square, located above Mayor Bennett's hardware store, and usually was rented out as an apartment. The last tenant had left a broken-down sofa. The rest of the space was filled with Ivy's canvases and art supplies.

Her friend had taken them through the paintings which she had completed, and Finley thought how breathtaking the landscapes were. The only time she had seen Ivy's work was the single painting of Lost Creek Lake that hung in Java Junction. Ivy had painted the lake again from a different perspective, but she had also painted much of the surrounding area. Finley recognized different places they had driven to, Ivy sketching them, as well as taking photographs on her phone, while Finley used her various cameras to capture the geographic features of the land.

She had hugged Ivy, complimenting her on her work. Ivy had even suggested that someday they might try something unique and do an exhibition together, with photographs Finley had taken of places Ivy had painted. Ana had seconded the idea.

Wolf had wanted to buy several of the paintings to hang at Meadow Creek Ranch, but Ivy told him everything in the room would be viewed by Clive Crutchfield, the Soho gallery owner who would put together the show for her. Ivy had told the director that she would give Crutchfield Wolf's contact information, saying the two might come to an agreement to have at least one painting already sold when the show began, still displaying it, while giving Wolf a chance to bid on other ones.

Afterward, Holden had come back to her house. It was a little after eight o'clock, and they both were starving. Finley had made omelets for them, walking Holden through the steps and telling him the next time, he'd be in charge of making the omelets. She also had toasted slices of sourdough bread, her favorite, and they had sat at the kitchen table, eating and talking for two hours. It amazed her how long they talked and the gambit those topics ran. Holden was well-informed about so many different things in the world and kept up with the news both here and abroad.

He had kissed her at the door as he told her goodnight, telling her it was a school night and she needed to get some sleep.

Tonight would be different. Finley planned to spend the entire night with Holden.

The bell rang, and she pushed aside thoughts of the handsome writer, going to the door to greet her students as they returned to the classroom, assigning them to different pods. Once they were all seated, she gave them their instructions, and they began to work, happily chattering about the news stories they would write about the Old West. Circulating through the room, she answered their questions, glad they were all on task. This was the best group that had come through in her six years of teaching, and she would miss them when they left for middle school.

"Miss Farrow?"

She startled, looking at the student standing in front of her.

Josh said, "It's almost time for the bell. Can we get our backpacks?"

Pulling herself from her reverie, having slipped into more thoughts about Holden, she inwardly chastised herself. Glancing at the clock, she saw less than two minutes remained before school would end for the day. Fortunately, her students were well-trained, and Finley saw they had already cleaned up and were moving the furniture back into place.

"Thank you for getting so much done this afternoon and cleaning up without being asked," she said brightly. "Collect your backpacks and line up."

Students rushed to their cubbies, claiming their backpacks, and she went to the door, watching as they lined up in an orderly fashion. The bell rang, and she dismissed them, telling them to have a great weekend.

Lisa stopped at the door. "Are you coming to the basketball game tonight, Miss Farrow? My cousin Barry is playing on varsity."

"I'll see you there, Lisa. I'm glad Barry is making his first start tonight."

She went to the parent loop, her afternoon duty this week, and supervised traffic for the next quarter-hour. Once it thinned, she headed back into the building, stopping by her room to pick up her coat, purse, and tablet for her meeting. She couldn't help but be a but resentful that Sheena, her team leader, had called a meeting of their team on a Friday afternoon. Finley had been team leader and asked her principal if she could pass along that responsibility this year to someone else so another teacher could gain that experience. It freed her up from a ton of paperwork and additional meetings, which helped since she was devoting more and more time to her photography business.

Sheena had taken her place, and it seemed the small bit of authority had gone to her head. Where Finley was organized and efficient and aware of others' time, Sheena was downright anal about everything and thought nothing of calling meetings at inconvenient times, including the afternoon they had let out early for the winter holidays. The new team leader was also pregnant and experiencing mood swings. Sheena was six weeks out from her due date. If the baby came at spring break, as he was supposed to, Sheena wouldn't return for the remainder of the year. Finley had already agreed to be the acting team leader in Sheena's absence.

She had also arranged with Mary Martin's secretary to meet with the principal next Monday afternoon. Mary had been gone, attending an educator's conference, and Finley was ready to break the news to her boss that she wouldn't be returning next school year.

Entering Sheena's room, she saw the team leader bustling about.

"Anything I can help you with?" she asked.

"No," Sheena said sharply, picking up her tablet and coming to sit at the table where Finley had already taken a seat.

The other two members of the team strolled in and joined them. Neither looked happy. They were both regulars at the happy hour many teachers went to at Hill Country Hangout each Friday afternoon.

"This won't take long," Sheena said primly, proceeding to talk non-stop for the next forty-five minutes.

It was nothing that couldn't have been covered during their regular conference period during the day. Finley decided she would mention the way Sheena threw her authority around when she met with Mary on Monday. While she knew Sheena was a good teacher and thoroughly covered all state required topics during instruction, Finley didn't think Sheena had the right characteristics to continue in the role as team leader. Hopefully, the principal could give Sheena some delicate, sage advice as to when was the best time to call a meeting outside normal school hours. Maybe she could even suggest that Sheena might want to relinquish her duties as team leader next year in order to spend more time with her newborn.

Much of the notes Finley took were related to what would need to happen once Sheena went on maternity leave and how she wanted things done. While Finley understood that Sheena wanted her team to be ready in case she went into labor early, this discussion could have been between the two of them and didn't need to include their other teammates. As it was, Finley would be in charge of seeing how the rest of the year played out. She decided everything would get done her way. She had experience Sheena didn't, especially in closing out a school year and submitting budget information to central administration.

Since she'd brought her things with her, Finley went directly to her car and headed home once Sheena wrapped things up. It was almost five o'clock when she arrived home, and she changed from her school clothes into a red cashmere sweater and a pair of black pants, the high school's colors. Holden was taking her to an early dinner at Lone Star Chophouse before they went to the basketball game.

She spritzed on some perfume and left her bedroom. Since she didn't see Emerson, she figured her roommate was at the event center, putting final touches on the cakes for tomorrow night's wedding. The couple marrying each had children from their previous marriages, and in addition to a wedding and groom's cakes, the three children also would have small cakes of their own. Finley would be photographing the wedding and reception and had already shot the bridal portraits a month ago when the bride's dress came in.

The doorbell sounded, and she went to answer it, thinking it thoughtful Holden always came to the door to collect her. The last few men she'd dated merely texted from the car, telling her she should come out.

Opening the door, she caught her breath, seeing how handsome her date truly was. His black hair shone and his moss green eyes drew her in. She'd never dated a man who wore glasses before, but they suited him, making him look sexy and smart.

"Hi. Come on in. Let me grab my purse and coat."

She went to the breakfast bar. Suddenly, Holden's strong arms encircled her from behind. He nuzzled her neck, his lips moving to her ear, where he tugged gently on the lobe with his teeth, sending a frisson of desire running through her.

Turning her in his arms, he said, "You look beautiful tonight, Finley."

"You clean up nicely yourself, Mr. Scott."

He wore a navy blazer over an open-neck, button-down shirt and dark slacks. Up close, he smelled divine, his cologne subtle, reminding her of the woods in autumn.

"I didn't know the dress code of the restaurant. I hope I can get away without wearing a tie." He dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled, revealing a pin-striped tie. "But I brought one just in case."

"This isn't New York. It's rare you'll see a tie in any restaurant in Lost Creek," she told him, pulling him down for a kiss.

Finley broke it, telling him, "More kissing later. Right now, we need to make our five-thirty reservation. The basketball game starts at seven-thirty, and I want to make sure we get a good seat."

He threaded his fingers through hers and led her to his truck, opening the door for her and seeing she was settled before closing it.

The restaurant was only half a mile outside the city limits. They parked and went inside, Holden giving the hostess his name. She led them to a booth for two, and their server brought two waters. They both ordered iced tea, skipping wine, Finley telling him they could open a bottle after the game tonight at her place and savor it.

They both ordered steaks, medium for her and medium rare for him. They decided to share sides and ordered roasted garlic mashed potatoes, mushrooms bordelaise, creamed spinach with parmesan, and toasted garlic bread. Each of them ordered a wedge salad, as well.

"I need to go car shopping," he told her. "I've been driving a truck which belongs to Wolf." His gaze met and held hers. "Since I plan on staying in Texas. I need wheels of my own. Maybe you can go shopping with me."

She hoped that she might be the reason he had decided to remain and boldly asked, "If you're buying a truck, where are you going to put down roots?"

Without hesitation, he said, "Lost Creek. It's quickly become home."

The server appeared, setting down their salads and bread, and they dug into them.

They talked about events in the news recently as they ate. A politician being impeached. Another school shooting, this time in East Texas. An earthquake in Japan. Finley had never been a person who followed the news much, but Holden's curiosity had piqued her own, and she found she enjoyed talking about things outside of Lost Creek. He also knew a lot about the world of entertainment, reading several trade papers online, sharing about books to be published and new movies coming out.

They finished their meal and she excused herself, going to the ladies' room while Holden paid their check. She freshened her lipstick and returned to the table, giving him directions to the high school gymnasium's parking lot. As she had known, it was almost full, and they had to hunt for a space to park. Only a handful of district games remained, and Lost Creek was good about turning out for sporting events held at the high school.

She flashed her teacher ID, which gave her entrance into all school events from games to plays to concerts, while Holden purchased a ticket for himself. They entered the gym, weaving their way up the stairs and to a section just to the right of center. Though they had to go up several rows, they found enough room on the end and would have a good view of the entire court.

Several people stopped by to say hello, and Finley proudly introduced Holden as her boyfriend. A few recognized him from his author picture from a book jacket, while two more mentioned they'd read an article about him in People magazine.

"I didn't know you were so famous," she teased as the teams took to the court.

"Hey, you're the famous one," he countered. "Probably half the people at the game tonight had to stop by and say hi to you. Former students. Parents." He smiled, taking her hand. "You've really touched a lot of lives, Finley."

Holden continued to hold her hand, giving her a warm glow. She hoped he was ready to take the next step in their relationship tonight because she certainly was.

At halftime, the Lost Creek Lobos led by two baskets. Holden asked if she wanted anything from the concession stand.

"Popcorn. It's better here than at the movies. And a Dr. Pepper," she told him.

He grinned. "Two state drinks and a large popcorn. Be right back."

Finley watched him head down the stairs, admiring his lean, strong frame, ready to see him out of his clothes.

Suddenly, her view was blocked, and she looked up.

"Hey, babe. How's it going? You're looking good."

Randy Foster sat next to her. She'd dated the football coach for a short while. He was still built like the former college linebacker he'd been. Good-looking and knew it. She'd grown tired quickly of his cocky attitude.

And the cheating.

"This seat's taken, Randy."

He grinned. "I know. I'm sitting in it."