Risking it All: Highland County Heroes

CHAPTER 1

Nancy sat in the driver’s seat of her parked car staring at the building in front of her. Her stomach churned but she knew she didn’t have a choice. As much as she might want to play hooky, it wouldn’t go over well for the teacher to call out, especially on the first day. With a deep breath, she fortified herself and forced herself to move. It took her a moment to gather her things then trudged inside. It was already hot. The sun beat on the back of her neck hinting at the heat of the day yet to come. She couldn’t help but be grateful she’d be inside, under the air conditioner during the worst of it.

She pushed her way through the main doors and down the hallway that she’d been up and down a dozen times over the last week as she’d gotten her classroom ready, but somehow, this morning it felt different. Was it that today she was expecting kids for the first time? Today would be her first day of teaching, real teaching, all by herself without another teacher there to oversee or help her. Today was as much her first day as anyone else. No. This was high school. They’d all been going to school for years. Just as she had been. Now she was on the other side of the desk.

Now it was all up to her. At least with her student teaching she’d had her mentor to fall back on, in case she screwed up, in case she suddenly forgot what she was supposed to be doing. Now she would be on her own. No one to catch her, no one to save her should she screw up.

In the room, she let the door swing shut behind her as she went to the desk and sat. One step down, now they’d come to her. She just had to keep from falling on her face. Checking the clock, she realized she had about half an hour till students were due to arrive. She’d beat her first fear, and the nightmare that had woken her two hours early this morning, showing up to realize she was late. Another deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to calm her nerves. She’d never get them gone, at least not today, but with a little luck, she’d be able to hide them.

Her eyes were still closed and she was reminding herself she was nearly thirty, with four small kids at home, she could do this. A knock on her classroom door made her jump. Her eyes flew open as she looked to see who was there. Hopefully not a student, not already.

Gratitude washed through her when she saw a man through the window. He was her age, maybe a little older, with shaggy brown hair that looked like he’d forgotten to get a haircut for a while. She waved him in as she tried to calm her heart where it had sped at being startled.

Hey, I just wanted to introduce myself. He stepped in the door and approached her desk. As he got close she could see his dark hair framed sincere eyes the color of whiskey. My name’s Thorne and I’m in the room across the hall. In case you ever need anything. He gave her a smile and kept talking. I understand you’re new around here, where’d you teach before?

I’m new period. This is my first non-student teaching position.

Oh, wow. I guess I thought you were closer to my age.

No. you aren’t wrong. I went back to school a couple years ago. Nancy didn’t go into details of why or how. It was a lot to get into and now wasn’t the time.

Good for you and welcome to Blackjack High. I’d be happy to show you around, help you out with anything you need. Help you get a feel for the place.

She noticed his gaze flick to the ring on her left hand, then back to her face. Had to give him credit though, his attitude and friendliness never changed.

Nancy had stared at her ring long and hard that morning wondering if she should take it off. It had been two years and a few of her friend urged her to take it off and move on with her life, but she just couldn’t bare it. Not yet. Taking off Thomas’s ring, even though he was gone, felt like a betrayal. She just couldn’t. Maybe eventually but not yet.

Thank you. Nancy extended her hand. I’m Nancy, Nancy Fisher, Mr.— she realized she couldn’t remember if he’d given her is last name.

Whitman.

Nancy couldn’t help her lifted brow. It was hard not to say something. Here she was teaching high school English and the first teacher she met on her first day is a Whitman? It was a little bizarre. But then, much of her life had become bizarre over the last few years. Things she never thought she’d deal with, she was living.

Yes, I know. Want to know what makes it even worse? He had a teasing grin she found infectious.

Sure. She found herself smiling back.

My first name, Thorne? It’s actually short for Hawthorne.

She blinked not sure if she should believe him or not.

I’d like to say I was kidding but who would make that up? He chuckled. Ma is a Hawthorne fan, and family rumor says Walt Whitman was a distant uncle. I’m not sure if it’s true though. I’ve never cared enough to research it.

So you ended up with two literary names. I didn’t think this place was big enough for two English classes.

Oh. I don’t teach English. His grin turned a little sheepish. Ma had high hopes but English was my worst class. I teach math.

Nancy gave an exaggerated shutter. Math was one of my worst subjects. I passed, but it was a struggle every step. Thankfully I had a brother who helped me. I don’t know what it is but it clicked for him in a way it never did to me. And he was able to explain it in a way that, while it will never be my favorite subject, I could get through it.

I’ve realized math either clicks for you or it doesn’t. The ones it clicks for are easy, but it’s the ones who struggle I try to reach. I’ve found several methods, that all get to the same place, and when I find someone who just doesn’t get it, we go through the list until we find something they understand.

I wish I’d had a teacher like that. It might have made me not hate math like I do.

That’s my goal. He smiled and glanced at the clock on the wall over the door. I better go. The kids will start trickling in soon and I need to get to my room. But remember, you need anything, anything, just sing out. Really.

I will. She glanced down at her desk, then back up at him. I can’t think of anything off hand but you’ll probably be sick of me by the end of the week.

Thorne laughed. I doubt it. He let himself out.

She couldn’t help but watch him go. She liked him. In five minutes he’d made her feel lighter, less worried or stressed, than she’d been in two years, at least. The last person who’d been able to do that for her was Thomas.

Thinking of Thomas, her gaze went back to the ring on her left hand. Maybe it was time to take it off. It was a reminder of him and what he’d meant to her, yes, but was it more? Was she using it as an excuse?

Before she could think about it any longer, the door opened and a student came in, a sullen looking teenage boy with hair like coal and a backpack slung over one shoulder. He found a desk on one side of the room about half way back and slumped into the seat, staring out the window as if he didn’t want her to talk to him. Remembering how it felt to be singled out on the first day, Nancy was okay with that, at least for now. She’d wait until the bell rang to introduce herself and get started.

Hours later, Nancy collapsed exhausted onto the sofa. She really should be picking up toys and starting a load of laundry, but she just didn’t have the energy. The first day of school had gone better than she’d dared to hope.

The twins are asleep, you want me to help pick this place up? Tommy, her oldest son’s voice pulled Nancy out of her ruminations.

No, baby, you spend your last half hour before bed doing something you enjoy. Thank you for helping though. Tommy had volunteered to read the twins, Mia and Mason, their bedtime story while Nancy had given Jasmine, the baby of the family at three, a bath and put her to bed.

Nancy couldn’t help her mixed feelings about Tommy’s offer to help. She couldn’t help but be proud he’d thought to help but she hated that so much of his childhood had been stolen, that at eight his top concern was helping her and making sure to help his siblings. She hated that at eight he’d had to step up and deal with his father’s death, much less any of the rest.

If she could, she’d wave a wand and make it all better. Make the pain and hurt in his life, in all of their lives, go away. But she couldn’t. No matter how badly she might want to.

All right. She’d wallowed long enough. Time to get busy. She pushed herself up off the couch and picked up the scattered toys from the living room floor. While she worked she let her mind drift back over her day. To play through the good points and bad, making note of things to change or basking in the feeling of something that went well.

Several of her students were sullen or distant, they refused to respond, but she tried not to take it personally. It was barely the first day, they hadn’t had time to hate her yet. It’s a defense mechanism, she told herself. She knew about defense mechanisms. The councilor had talked to her about them, both for herself and the kids, after Thomas had died.

Finished with the living room, Nancy moved to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while pushing her thoughts to happier things. To the students who seemed happy to see her, who had responded well and seemed enthusiastic. She only hoped to keep them as engaged all year. Thorne popped into her thoughts. That shaggy math teacher who had popped into her room before classes started. He’d stopped by again at lunch to see if she’d needed anything and she’d half expected to see him after the final bell, but hadn’t. Maybe because she’d booked it out of there as quickly as she could. Time was tight and she needed to get home to relieve the sitter who’d had an appointment today and needed to get off a little earlier than usual.

Thankfully, since it was still early, Nancy didn’t have papers to grade, and once everyone else was in bed and the chores done, she could crawl between the sheets herself. The thought made her want to cry. She’d hated going to bed for the last two years.

It wasn’t that she hated sleeping alone. No Thomas had been killed in action on a deployment, Lord knew she spent enough nights alone. She hated getting into bed knowing he’d never be back. Knowing he wasn’t coming back to her. She’d been okay as long as she’d known he’d be back, knowing he wouldn’t was killing her.

Nancy pushed the morose thoughts away and looked around for anything else that needed to be done. She moved the laundry she’d started in before dinner from the washer to the dryer and started it then wrote a quick note to remind herself to pull it out in the morning and stuck it to the fridge. This might have been her first day as a teacher but she’d spent the last year and a half going to school herself. She’d learned a few tricks to get everything done along the way. The babysitter helped a ton, she’d found gold when she’d found Suzette. Suzette treated the kids as if they were her own and helped Nancy so much, she’d become a part of the family. Even Warren, Nancy’s brother, treated her like family, and that was saying something.

Deciding she was done for the day, Nancy decided to indulge in a hot bath before bed. It would help her unwind and relax enough to sleep, and she needed to sleep because the alarm would go off at four thirty and she’d get to start it all again.

CHAPTER 2

Thorne sat behind the cheap metal desk that was standard for teachers at Blackjack High, ankles crossed as he watched kids trickle in after lunch. Today was Friday and kids had been itching for the day to be over as soon as it started but this class would be different. There were a few new faces, but he recognized, and had taught, most of them before. This was the AP pre-calc class, and there were only a couple of kids who’d switched schools or moved to the area over the summer.

The last kid came in and found his seat seconds before the bell rang. Thorne might look careless, however, he’d been keeping track of not just his students but also the pretty new teacher across the hall.

Good afternoon. I hope you’re not full and sleepy because we’ve got a lot to cover this semester and we’re going to dive right in. He closed the door, sending a smile to the new teacher as he shut out the sounds of kids rushing because they were late to class, and turning back to the class.

This was one of his favorite classes, the kids were engaged and he didn’t have to struggle to keep their attention. His however kept drifting today. Back to the new teacher. There was something about her that wouldn’t let him forget about her.

He’d stopped the first time to be friendly, the second time too, and he’d forced himself not to stop