Forever With You (Bayou Dreams Book 5) Read online

  The spark that shot between them rendered him momentarily speechless.

  She had to be interested. Had to be. Energy like this just didn’t exist between two people for no reason.

  Her gaze dropped to where he held her hand and then traveled back up to his eyes. Something told Gabe to let go, but he ignored it. Letting go of her amazingly soft hand was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

  Unfortunately, she took the choice out of his hands. Literally.

  She slowly extricated her delicate fingers from his hold and took a step back.

  Slipping his hands into his pockets, Gabe said, “I wanted to thank you for whatever you said to the parents before I came over. I didn’t expect that to go so smoothly.”

  “Actually, I didn’t have to say anything. The rumor doesn’t seem to be as widespread as you first thought.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “However, it is still out there, and some do believe it.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said, running an aggravated hand through his hair. “Which is why I still need to figure out a way to clear it up. I’m hoping we can set up a meeting with the PTO. It’s obvious that I’ve gotten off on the wrong foot with some of the parents, and I want to rectify that as soon as possible. I need to rectify it. It will be very difficult to do my job if the parents aren’t behind me.”

  “I can put you on the agenda at the next PTO meeting,” she said. “We meet on the third Wednesday of the month.”

  Gabe winced. “That’s still a couple of weeks away. Look, I know I’m new to Gauthier, but I’ve been here long enough to recognize the potential damage this rumor can cause if it gets out of hand. I need to nip this issue in the bud, and the sooner the better.”

  “Oh, believe me, I know,” she said. “Of course, you could clear the air instantly by just sending an email through GEMS Connect.”

  He shook his head. Gabe had considered the school-wide email system used to communicate between parents and faculty, but using it in this instance would be too impersonal.

  “This is something that needs to be handled face-to-face. Email leaves too much up for interpretation. I also want to bounce some of my ideas off parents so that they’ll know I want their involvement. Please, Les...Mrs. Kirkland.”

  Her brow rose at his slip, but she didn’t comment. Maybe there was hope for them eventually working their way to a first-name basis after all.

  “I really need your help with this,” Gabe continued. “You’re the PTO president. Parents trust you. I’ve explained my motives to you. You know now that I never had any plans to disrupt the way things are done here. Please help me to get the parents on my side.”

  She stared at him with a thoughtfulness that made it seem as though she knew her decision could very well affect his entire future. And it could. If the higher-ups in the main school-board office thought he was alienating parents, they wouldn’t hesitate to pull this interim-assistant principal position right from under him.

  “I’ll send an email to the other officers on the PTO board tonight and see what day would work,” she said.

  Gabe’s shoulders sunk with gratitude. “Thank you.”

  He reached for her hand but pulled back. He was still feeling the effects touching her soft skin had caused during their encounter in his classroom. He didn’t want to invite the kind of reaction touching her again could possibly evoke.

  Yet, Gabe couldn’t stop himself from staring at her, even though he knew she might deem it inappropriate while they stood in the middle of the school cafeteria, surrounded by at least a dozen parents and school staff members still lingering.

  He should stop, but he couldn’t. Not even if his life had depended on it.

  There was a warmth to her, a light that radiated from her compelling eyes. It pulled him in, made it impossible to do anything but look into their rich brown depths. He just could not look away.

  Finally—thankfully—she did it for him.

  She glanced toward the door. “I’ll be in touch,” she said.

  “Great,” Gabe replied.

  Don’t say it.

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Dammit. He’d said it.

  Gabe braced himself for her reprimand. He experienced a mixture of confusion and encouragement when it didn’t come. Was she softening toward him? Had she finally decided that he was an actual person and not just her daughter’s teacher?

  Should he go for broke and ask her out?

  “Good night, Mr. Franklin,” she said. And, as if she sensed what he was on the verge of doing, she quickly turned and walked out of the cafeteria.

  Gabe ordered himself to look away, but it didn’t work. He just continued his inappropriate staring for several moments after she had exited the cafeteria.

  Once the school had been emptied of parents and faculty members, Gabe found himself in Mr. Williams’s office, sitting in a tweed chair that he would bet was as old as he was. Principal Williams occupied the matching chair opposite his, while Superintendent McCabe perched on the edge of the desk, a clear assertion of his position of authority.

  Gabe tried to read the body language of both men, but he was getting nothing. Of course, he’d never been demoted before, so he wasn’t sure what signs he should look for.

  The superintendent leaned forward and clasped his fingers together.

  “It’s pretty late, so why don’t we just get to it,” he said. “Now, what I’m about to share with the two of you is strictly off-the-record until the official announcement is made, but since it affects your schools—and careers—I thought you should know about it.”

  Gabe held his breath, preparing himself for the blow.

  “I’m sure you both have seen the progress that’s been made on the new high school being built on that land the school board purchased on Highway 421 between Gauthier and Maplesville.”

  That was not exactly how Gabe had expected this conversation to start, but anything that didn’t begin with we’ve hired a new assistant principal was okay with him.

  “The facility is one of the most advanced designs in the country,” McCabe continued. “Eighty percent of the school will run on solar energy, there’s an on-site water-treatment plant and the technology in the classrooms will blow your minds. We already have school administrators from around the country asking for permission to tour it.”

  “What does this have to do with GEMS, Patrick?” Principal Williams asked.

  “This is the exciting part.” The superintendent rubbed his palms together. Such drama. “I was approached by the Department of Education about a program they want to test. They would like Maplesville’s and GEMS’s middle-school students to be a part of the pilot study. The plan would combine the middle schools in Maplesville and Gauthier into one state-of-the-art campus.”

  “What about the elementary-school students?” Williams asked.

  “They would remain here.”

  “They want to break up GEMS?” Gabe asked.

  Williams straightened in his chair. “The elementary and middle schools have always been together.”

  “That’s because the student population has never been large enough to justify having a separate elementary and middle school,” Superintendent McCabe said. “But if the student body is combined with that of Maplesville Middle School, we would have over six hundred students. The campus is currently designed to accommodate just over eight hundred, and it sits on enough acreage that there’s room for growth for years to come. This is a golden opportunity, John,” McCabe said. “This school would be a model for schools around the country.”

  Gabe was still trying to figure out how this affected him. “What grades would attend the middle school?” he asked.

  “Sixth, seventh and eighth grades.”

  “Our eighth graders go t
o the high school,” Williams pointed out. “You know how the kids are here, Patrick. They look forward to attending high school in eighth grade. It’s one of the things that makes Gauthier unique.”

  “Again, it’s because of the low student-body count. We could combine both schools in Gauthier and make it a K-through-twelfth-grade campus and there still wouldn’t be enough students to fill an entire school. It’s a miracle we’re able to keep them both open.”

  “Don’t start that,” Principal Williams said.

  “I know, I know.” The superintendent raised his hands. “Don’t worry. The schools in Gauthier are safe.”

  Safe? What were they talking about?

  “A merger will be a hard sell to the community,” Williams said. “And, technically, that campus is within Maplesville city limits. You know darn well how the people around here will react to that.”

  “John, we cannot allow small-town politics to get in the way of this. If we agree to take part in this pilot program, it would mean more federal dollars into this school system than we’ve seen in the twenty years I’ve been a part of it. And it’s not just the school system’s bank account that would benefit. This is good news for both of you, too.”

  Finally.

  School politics had never interested him, although Gabe knew eventually he would have to play the game if he was going to make it in school administration. Right now he didn’t care about the politics behind this new merger; he was more concerned with how it would affect his career.

  “John, you’re number one in line for taking over as principal at the new merged school,” the superintendent said. “You have seniority, and I think you’re better equipped to handle a school of that size. Shelia Melancon would move over from her assistant principal position at Maplesville Middle.”

  “What about Grayson?” Principal Williams asked of the principal at Maplesville Middle School. “Where does he fit in?”

  Gabe had yet to hear his name mentioned. He was more worried about where he would fit in.

  “Grayson will move into your position here.” The superintendent turned to Gabe. “Mr. Franklin, with all the personnel swaps that would have to take place, the school board has decided that bringing in someone from outside of the school system to take over the assistant principal position here at GEMS would just disrupt things. It makes more sense to have you take over the position permanently.”

  Excitement began to pump through Gabe’s bloodstream like a locomotive on speed.

  “That...ah...that would be fantastic,” he said.

  “Even though you’ve been here less than a year, you would still have seniority over whomever we bring in,” the superintendent continued. “You have the academic credentials, and you already have a relationship with the community, which is vitally important.”

  Gabe had never been one to hyperventilate, but for the first time in his life he felt close to it. He surreptitiously sucked in a couple of deep breaths and told himself to calm down.

  But how in the hell was he supposed to remain calm? He had so much riding on this it kept him awake at night.

  Being in a position to bring about change in the education system was important to him, but two main driving forces had been behind his decision to go back to graduate school and get his master’s in school administration: making his high school science teacher, Mr. Caldwell, proud and making enough money to help his family back in Houston.

  Gabe hated to be all about the dollar, but with the increase in his salary he would be able to help his baby sister, Daniela, as she entered college in the fall and he would be able to send his baby brother, Elias, to private school for his final two years of high school. Getting Elias away from his current high school was at the top of Gabe’s priority list. He didn’t want his brother wandering down the path he’d been on at that age. Elias didn’t have someone like Mr. Caldwell to save him from himself the way Gabe had.

  “How soon would all this happen?” Gabe asked, hoping he didn’t sound too eager.

  “You would officially take over as assistant principal at the end of this school year.”

  Yes. That was less than two months away. It meant his new salary would kick in around that time, too.

  “There’s just one thing,” Superintendent McCabe said. “The residents of both Gauthier and Maplesville have to approve of the merger. School-board elections are in less than four weeks, and there’s not a single member of the board who will support the merger if residents are against it.” He looked from Gabe to Principal Williams. “I’m counting on the two of you to rally the support of the parents here at GEMS. You must get them on board with this if we’re going to go forward.”

  Dammit. Gabe knew it was too good to be true.

  Half the parents at GEMS still didn’t know him and the other half didn’t trust him because of the rumor Ardina had started about the Lock-In. How in the hell was he going to convince them to support anything he advocated for?

  Gabe’s eyes fell shut as he blew out a deep breath. Now more than ever he would need Leslie Kirkland’s help to get him back in the good graces of the parents in Gauthier.

  Chapter 4

  “Cassidy, you have exactly one minute to get out of that bathroom,” Leslie called from her own bathroom. “The school bus will be here any minute.”

  “I’m almost done.”

  Leslie pitched her head back and sighed at the ceiling. The child was only nine years old. Nine. And already she was a bathroom hog. How was she going to handle the teen years? Leslie had considered adding on a third bathroom in a few years, but she wasn’t sure she would be able to wait that long.

  Leslie stopped in the middle of putting on her eyeliner.

  If she followed through with the plans that had been floating around in her head, they wouldn’t be in this house by the time Cassidy became a teenager. They wouldn’t be here by the time she reached age ten.

  Leslie tried to ignore the nauseating sensation that began to swirl in her stomach as she threw on a touch of mascara and swiped gloss over her lips.

  When she arrived in the kitchen, Cassidy and Kristi were slipping on their backpacks.

  “Have you two checked to make sure Buster didn’t have an accident?”

  They nodded in unison.

  “You looked in all of her usual places?”

  Cassidy ticked the list off on her fingers. “At the end of the hallway, in the corner in the living room and in Kristi’s room.”

  “Under the coffee table?” Leslie asked.

  “Yes,” Kristi said with a firm nod. “No accidents. Buster is becoming a big girl.”

  “With a stupid name,” Cassidy said. She stuck her tongue out at Kristi when the five-year-old protested.

  Leslie would never tell Kristi that the name she’d chosen for the dog—which was purchased on her birthday, thus giving her naming privileges—was stupid. However, she could think of a million more appropriate names for a female Yorkshire terrier with pink ribbons at her ears.

  The screech of the school bus’s tires set them all into motion.

  “Okay, okay, get going,” Leslie said, ushering the girls out of the house. She gave them both pecks on the cheeks and stood on the porch steps to watch them board the bus. She waited until it made a right on Oak Street before going back into the house to grab her laptop.

  The time it took to deal with Kristi’s tantrum over Cassidy using the strawberry-scented lotion that Shayla had given her for a birthday present had stolen any chance Leslie had of sitting at the table for a nice breakfast. She would have to find something she could eat on the road.

  Just as she was pressing the button on the single-serve coffeemaker, Leslie caught a whiff of a foul but familiar odor.

  “Dammit, Buster! You would wait until the girls were gone, wouldn’t you?”

  Th
e puppy, which was currently dancing around her feet, let out a squeaky bark.

  Leslie followed her nose to the pile of dog poop in the arched entryway that led from the kitchen to the rarely used formal dining room.

  “Looks as if you’ve got a new favorite spot.”

  She cursed under her breath as she returned to the kitchen for paper towels. One of the contingencies for getting a dog was that the girls were supposed to be responsible for cleaning up after her. Leslie was convinced they had made some sort of pact with Buster. The dog never made a mess when Cassidy and Kristi were around.

  Just to rub salt in the wound, Buster followed after her, yapping and jumping up and down at her legs, as if taunting her. Leslie gave her the meanest stare she could muster.

  “I’m not a violent person, but sometimes I really want to strangle you.”

  The dog yapped again and then started to pant, her tongue hanging out in the most adorable way. Leslie exhaled a tired laugh. It was either that or choke the little fur ball.

  After cleaning up the mess and scrubbing her hands like a surgeon before surgery, Leslie grabbed a granola bar from the healthy-snack basket she kept on the counter and her travel mug from the coffeemaker.

  Buster’s accident had put her another ten minutes behind, but at least the early risers who worked at the local concrete factory and oil refineries had made their way out of Gauthier by the time she got on the road. Her smooth sailing came to a screeching halt when she hit the tiny town of Talisheek and encountered a wall of traffic.

  Leslie’s head fell back against the headrest. She’d forgotten about the restriping work that started today. It was scheduled to last two weeks.

  “Reason number one hundred and twelve to move to Houston.”

  She’d grown so weary of the forty-minute commute into Slidell—forty minutes if she didn’t get stuck behind a slow-moving vehicle along the twenty-mile stretch of one-lane-only highway, that was. Thank goodness for her boss and his giant, understanding heart. After a decade of getting caught behind school busses with a dozen stops or tractor trailers hauling sugarcane during harvest season, Stewart Campbell no longer batted an eye when she walked into the office a half hour late.