Finding Perfect (2 page)

That was Hawk, Raoul thought with equal parts frustration and appreciation. Cutting right to the heart of what was wrong.

“You had some bad stuff happen,” the older man continued. “Don't wallow.”

“I'm not wallowing. I'm busy.”

“You're in your head too much. I know you. Find a cause. Get personally involved in your new town. It'll distract you. You can't change what happened.”

Raoul's good humor faded. Hawk was right about that. The past couldn't be undone. Those who were gone stayed gone. No amount of bargaining, no sum of money, made it better.

“I can't let it go,” he admitted.

“You'll have to. Maybe not today, but soon. Believe in the possibility of healing, Raoul. Open yourself up to other people.”

It seemed impossible, but he'd been trusting Hawk for nearly twenty years. “I'll do my best.”

“Good. Call Nicole.”

“I will.”

They hung up.

Raoul sat in his car for a few more seconds, thinking about what Hawk had told him. Get involved. Find a cause. What the other man didn't know was how much Raoul wanted to avoid that. Getting involved is what had caused the problem in the first place. Life was much safer lived at a distance.

He got out of his car and collected the small duffel he'd brought with him. Whenever he visited a school, he brought a few official NFL footballs and player cards. It made the kids happy, and that's why he was here. To entertain and maybe slip in a little motivation when they weren't looking.

He glanced at the main school building. It was older but well-kept. He usually spoke to high-school-aged kids, but the principal and class teacher had both been persistent to the point of stalking. He was new to small-town life and was figuring out the rules as he went. As he planned to settle in Fool's Gold permanently, he'd decided to err on the side of cooperation.

He stepped toward the main walkway, then made his way into the building. Unlike the inner-city schools he usually visited, there weren't any metal detectors or even a guard. The double doors stood open, the halls were wide and well-lit, the walls free of graffiti. Like the rest of Fool's Gold, the school was almost too good to be true.

He followed the signs to the main office and found himself in a big open area with a long counter. There were the usual bulletin boards with flyers for book drives and after-school programs. A dark-haired woman sat at a desk, typing on an ancient-looking computer.

“Morning,” he said.

The woman—probably in her midthirties—looked up. Her mouth fell open as she stood and waved her hands. “Oh, God. You're here. You're really here! I can't believe it.” She hurried toward him. “Hi. I'm Rachel. My dad is a huge fan. He's going to die when he finds out I met you.”

“I hope not,” Raoul said easily, pulling a card out of the bag and reaching for a pen.

“What?”

“I hope he doesn't die.”

Rachel laughed. “He won't, but he'll be so jealous. I heard you were coming. And here you are. This is just so exciting. Raoul Moreno in our school.”

“What's your dad's name?”

“Norm.”

He signed the card and passed it to her. “Maybe this will help him deal with his disappointment.”

She took the paper reverently and placed a hand on her chest. “Thank you so much. This is wonderful.” She glanced at the clock, then sighed. “I suppose I have to take you to Mrs. Miller's class now.”

“I should probably get started talking to the kids.”

“Right. That's why you're here. It's been wonderful to meet you.”

“You, too, Rachel.”

She came out from behind the counter, then led him back into the hallway. As they walked, she chatted about the school and the town, all the while glancing at him with a combination of appreciation and flirtatiousness. It came with the territory and he'd learned a long time ago not to take the attention seriously.

Mrs. Miller's class was at the end of the hall. Rachel held the door open for him.

“Good luck,” she said.

“Thanks.”

He entered the room alone.

There were about twenty young kids, all staring wide-eyed, while their teacher, an attractive woman in her forties, fluttered.

“Oh, Mr. Moreno, I can't thank you enough for speaking with us today. It's such a thrill.”

Raoul smiled. “I'm always happy to come talk to kids in school.” He glanced at the class. “Morning.”

A few of the students greeted him. A few more looked too excited to speak. At least the boys did. Most of the girls didn't seem impressed at all.

“Fourth grade, right?” he asked.

A girl with glasses in the front row nodded. “We're the accelerated group, reading above grade level.”

“Uh-oh,” he said, taking an exaggerated step back. “The smart kids. You going to ask me a math question?”

Her mouth curved into a smile. “Do you like math?”

“Yeah, I do.” He looked up at the class. “Who here really likes school a lot?”

A few kids raised their hands.

“School can change your life,” he said, settling one hip on the teacher's desk. “When you grow up, you're going to get jobs and work for a living. Today most of your responsibilities are about doing well in school. Who knows why we need to learn things like reading and math?”

More hands went up.

His usual talk was on staying motivated, finding a mentor, making a better life, but that seemed like a little
much for the average nine-year-old. So he was going to talk about how important it was to like school and do your best.

Mrs. Miller hovered. “Do you need anything?” she asked in a whisper. “Can I get you something?”

“I'm good.”

He turned his attention back to the students. The girl in the front row seemed more interested in the pretty scenery outside of the window. Oddly enough, she reminded him of Pia. Maybe it was the brown curly hair, or her obvious lack of interest in him as a person. Pia hadn't gushed, either. She'd barely noticed him. Not a real surprise, given how her morning had started. But he'd noticed her. She'd been cute and funny, even without trying.

He returned his attention to the students, drew in a breath and frowned. He inhaled again, smelling something odd.

If this had been a high school, he would have assumed an experiment gone bad in the science lab or a batch of forgotten cookies in home ec. But elementary schools didn't have those facilities.

He turned to Mrs. Miller. “Do you smell that?”

She nodded, her blue eyes concerned. “Maybe something happened in the cafeteria.”

“Is there a fire?” one of the boys asked.

“Everyone stay seated,” Mrs. Miller said firmly as she walked toward the door.

She placed a hand on it before slowly pulling it open. As she did, the smell of smoke got stronger. Seconds later, the fire alarms went off.

She turned to him. “It's only the second day of school.
We haven't practiced what to do. I think there really is a fire.”

The kids were already standing up and looking scared. He knew they weren't very far from panic.

“You know where we're supposed to go?” he asked. “The way out?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” He turned to the students. “Who's in charge here?” he asked in a voice loud enough to be heard over the bells.

“Mrs. Miller,” someone yelled.

“Exactly. Everyone get in line and follow Mrs. Miller as we go into the hall. There are going to be a lot of kids out there. Stay calm. I'll go last and make sure you all get out of the building.”

Mrs. Miller motioned for her students to move toward the door.

“Follow me,” she said. “We'll go quickly. Everyone hold hands. Don't let go. Everything is fine. Just stay together.”

Mrs. Miller went out the door. The children began to follow her. Raoul waited to make sure everyone left. One little boy seemed to hesitate before leaving.

“It's okay,” Raoul told him, his voice deliberately calm. He reached for the boy's hand, but the child flinched, as if expecting to be hit. The kid—all red hair and freckles—ducked out before Raoul could say anything.

Raoul went into the hall. The smell of smoke was more intense. Several kids were crying. A few stood in the middle of the hallway, their hands over their ears. The bells rang endlessly as teachers called for their students to follow them outside.

“Come on,” he said, scooping the nearest little girl into his arms. “Let's go.”

“I'm scared,” she said.

“I'm big enough to keep you safe.”

Another little boy grabbed hold of his arm. Tears filled the kid's eyes. “It's too loud.”

“Then let's go outside, where it's quieter.”

He walked quickly, herding kids as he went. Teachers ran back and forth, counting heads, checking to make sure no one was left behind.

When Raoul and his group of kids reached the main doors leading outside, the children took off at a run. He put down the girl he'd been carrying and she raced toward her teacher. He could see smoke pouring into the sky, a white-gray cloud covering the brilliant blue.

Students flowed out around him. Names were called. Teachers sorted the groups by grades, then classes. Raoul turned and went back into the building.

Now he could do more than smell smoke. He could see it. The air was thick and getting darker, making it hard to breathe. He went room by room, pushing open doors, checking under the large teacher desks in front, scanning to make sure no one was left behind.

He found a tiny little girl in a corner of the third room he entered, her face wet with tears. She was coughing and sobbing. He picked her up, turned and almost ran into a firefighter.

“I'll take her,” the woman said, looking at him from behind a mask and grabbing the girl. “Get the hell out of here. The building is nearly seventy years old. God knows what cocktail of chemicals is in the air.”

“There might be more kids.”

“I know, and the longer we stand here talking, the more danger they're in. Now move.”

He followed the firefighter out of the building. It wasn't until he was outside that he realized he was coughing and choking. He bent over, trying to catch his breath.

When he could breathe again, he straightened. The scene was controlled chaos. Three fire trucks stood in front of the school. Students huddled together on the lawn, well back from the building. Smoke poured out in all directions.

A few people screamed and pointed. Raoul turned and saw flames licking through the roof at the far end of the school.

He turned to head back in. A firefighter grabbed him by the arm.

“Don't even think about it,” the woman told him. “Leave this to the professionals.”

He nodded, then started coughing again.

She shook her head. “You went back inside, didn't you? Civilians. Do you think we wear the masks because they're pretty? Medic!” She yelled the last word and pointed at him.

“I'm fine,” Raoul managed, his chest tight.

“Let me guess. You're a doctor, too. Cooperate with the nice lady or I'll tell her you need an enema.”

T
HERE WAS NOTHING LIKE
a community disaster to snap a person out of a pity party, Pia thought as she stood on the lawn at the far end of the Ronan Elementary playground and stared at what had once been a beautiful old school. Now flames licked at the roof and caused glass windows to explode. The smell of destruction was everywhere.

She'd heard the fire trucks from her office and had seen the smoke darkening the sky. It had only taken her a second to figure out where the fire was and that it was going to be bad. Now, as she stood on the edge of the playground, she felt her breath catch as one of the walls seemed to shudder before falling in on itself.

She'd always heard people talk about fire as if it were alive. A living creature with cunning and determination and an evil nature. Until now, she'd never believed it. But watching the way the fire systematically destroyed the school, she thought there might be seeds of truth in the theory.

“This is bad,” she whispered.

“Worse than bad.”

Pia saw Mayor Marsha Tilson had joined her. The sixty-something woman stood with a hand pressed against her throat, her eyes wide.

“I spoke with the fire chief. She assured me they've
gone through every room in the building. No one is left inside. But the building…” Marsha's voice caught. “I went to school here.”

Pia put her arm around the other woman. “I know. It's horrible to see this.”

Marsha visibly controlled her emotions. “We're going to have to find somewhere to put the children. They can't lose school days over this. But the other schools are full. We could bring in those portable classrooms. There must be someone I can call.” She glanced around. “Where's Charity? She might know.”

Pia turned and saw her friend standing by the growing crowd of frantic parents. “Over there.”

Marsha saw her, then frowned. “She's not getting any smoke, is she?”

Pia understood the concern. Charity was several months pregnant and the mayor's granddaughter. “She's upwind. She'll be okay.”

Marsha stared at the destruction. “What could have started this?”

“We'll find out. The important thing is all the kids and staff got out safely. We can fix the school.”

Marsha squeezed her hand. “You're rational. Right now I need that. Thank you, Pia.”

“We'll get through this together.”

“I know. That makes me feel better. I'm going to talk to Charity.”

As the mayor moved off, Pia stayed on the grass. Every few seconds, a blast of heat reached her and with it the smell of smoke and annihilation.

Just that morning she'd walked by the school and everything had been fine. How could things change so quickly?

Before she could figure out an answer, she saw more parents arriving on the scene. Mothers and some fathers rushed toward the children huddled together, protected by their teachers. There were cries of relief and of fear. Children were hugged, then searched for injuries, teachers thanked. The school principal stood by the children, a stack of pages on a clipboard.

Probably the master roster, Pia thought. Given the circumstances, parents would probably have to sign out their kids, so everyone was accounted for.

Two more fire trucks pulled up, sirens blaring. The school fire alarms were finally silenced but the noise was still deafening. People shouted, the truck engines rumbled. A voice over a megaphone warned everyone to stay back, then pointed out the location of the emergency medical vehicles.

Pia glanced in that direction and was surprised to see a tall, familiar man speaking with one of the EMT women. Raoul's hair was tousled, his face smudged. He paused to cough and despite it all, the man still looked good.

“Just so typical,” she muttered as she crossed the playground and went toward him.

“Let me guess,” she said as she approached. “You did something heroic.”

“You mean stupid,” the medic told her with a roll of her eyes. “It's a gender thing. They can't help it.”

Pia chuckled. “Don't I know it.” She turned to Raoul. “Tell me you didn't race into a burning building in an attempt to save a child.”

He straightened and drew in a deep breath. “Why do you say it like that? It's not a bad thing.”

“There are professionals here who know what they're doing.”

“That's what I keep getting told. What happened to a little gratitude for risking my life?”

“Odds are, you would have been overcome by smoke, thereby giving the firefighters
more
work to do instead of less,” the medic told him. She pulled some kind of measuring device off his finger.

“You're fine,” she continued. “If you have any of the symptoms we talked about, go to the E.R.” She glanced at Pia. “Is he with you?”

Pia shook her head.

“Smart girl,” the medic said, then moved on to the next patient.

“Ouch,” Raoul said. “This is a tough town.”

“Don't worry,” Pia told him. “I'm sure there will be plenty of women who will want to fawn all over you and coo as you retell your tale of bravery.”

“But you're not one of them.”

“Not today.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

For a second she didn't understand the question. Then reality returned. That's right—he'd witnessed her breakdown earlier in the day. Talk about an emotion dump.

“I meant to call you,” she said, moving beside him as they walked away from the medics. “To apologize. I usually have my meltdowns in private.”

“It's okay. I'd say I understand, but you'll probably bite my head off if I do. How about if I tell you I'm sympathetic?”

“I would appreciate that.”

She hesitated, wondering if she was supposed to say more. Or if he would ask. Not that she had anything
to say. She was still grasping the reality of her friend's bequest and hadn't made a decision about what to do next. Despite the attorney's promise that she had at least three years before she needed to decide anything, Pia felt the pressure weighing on her.

Not that she was going to discuss her dilemma in front of Raoul. He'd already suffered enough.

“What were you doing here?” she asked. “At the school.”

He'd come to a stop and was staring back at the school. His gaze moved from one firefighter to another. The chief stood on a garden wall about three feet high, yelling out orders to her team.

“Are you worried about the kids?” Pia asked. “Don't be. I've sat through plenty of preparedness meetings. They're great to attend if you're having trouble sleeping. Anyway, there's a plan for each school, and a master list. Attendance is taken daily and sent by computer to the district office. A list of who is out that day is brought to the disaster site. Trust me. Every student is accounted for.”

He looked at her, his dark eyes bright with surprise. “They're all women.”

“Most teachers are.”

“The firefighters. They're all women.”

“Oh, that.” She shrugged. “It's Fool's Gold. What did you expect?”

He appeared both confused and lost, which on a tall, good-looking guy was kind of appealing. Assuming she was interested, and she wasn't. If her natural wariness about guys wasn't enough, Raoul was famous-ish, and she didn't need the pain and suffering that came with
that type. Not to mention the fact that she might soon be pregnant with another couple's embryos.

A week ago her life had been predictable and boring. Now she was in the running to be a tabloid headline. Boring was better.

“There's a man shortage,” Pia said patiently. “Surely you've noticed there aren't a lot of men in town. I thought that was why you'd moved here.”

“There are men.”

“Okay. Where?”

“The town has children.” He pointed to the few students still waiting to be picked up. “They have fathers.”

“That's true. We do have a few breeding pairs, for experimental purposes.”

He took a step back.

She grinned. “Sorry. I'm kidding. Yes, there are men in town, but statistically, we don't have very many. Certainly not enough. So if you find yourself exceptionally popular, don't let it go to your head.”

“I think I liked you better when you were having your breakdown,” he muttered.

“You wouldn't be the first man to prefer a woman in a weakened condition. Full strength, we're a threat. Being as big and tough as you are, I'd hoped for something more. Life is nothing if not a disappointment. You didn't answer my question from before. What were you doing here?”

He looked distracted, as if he were having trouble keeping up. “Talking to Mrs. Miller's fourth-grade class. I speak to students. Usually they're in high school, but she wouldn't take no for an answer.”

“She probably wanted to spend the hour looking at your butt.”

Raoul stared at her.

She shrugged. “I'm just saying.”

“You're certainly feeling better.”

“It's more a matter of not being on the edge of hysteria,” she admitted.

She turned her attention back to the school. It was obviously going to be in ruins when all this was over. “How big is your place?” she asked. “You seem like the mansion type. Could they hold classes in your foyer?”

“I rent a two-bedroom house from Josh Golden.”

“Then that would be a no. They're going to have to put the kids somewhere.”

“What about the other schools in town?”

“Marsha said they were thinking about bringing in those portable classrooms.”

“Marsha?”

“Mayor Marsha Tilson. My boss. You know Josh Golden?”

Raoul nodded.

“He's married to her granddaughter.”

“Got it.”

He seemed less stunned now, which probably made him feel better. With the smoke smudges on his face, he looked pretty attractive, she thought absently. Not that he hadn't been devastatingly handsome before. He was the kind of man who made a woman do stupid things. Thank goodness she was immune. A lifetime of romantic failures had a way of curing a woman of foolishness.

“We should make another appointment,” she said. “I'll call your office and set things up with your secretary.”

“There you go, assuming again. I don't have a secretary.”

“Huh. Who sets up your calendar and makes you feel important?” she said with a wink.

He studied her for a second. “Are you like this with everyone?”

“Charming?” She laughed. “As a rule. Just ask around.”

“Maybe I will.”

He was teasing. She knew he was teasing. Yet she felt something. A flicker. Maybe a quiver, down low in her belly.

No way, she reminded herself as she waved and walked toward her car. Especially not with a man like him. Successful, handsome men had expectations. Blonde ambitions. She knew—she read
People
magazine.

Life had taught her many important lessons. The greatest of which was not to depend on anyone to be there for her. She was a strong, independent woman. Men were optional and right now she was going to just say no.

 

R
AOUL SPENT THE NEXT
hour at the school. The firefighters got the fire under control. The chief had told him they would have a presence for at least the next twenty-four hours, to control any hot spots. Cleanup would start when the remaining structure had cooled and the investigation was complete.

It was the kind of disaster he'd read about in the paper and seen on the news a dozen times over the years. But even the best reporting hadn't prepared him for the reality of the heat, the destruction and the smell. It would
be months, maybe years, before the campus was even close to normal.

The kids had all gone home, as had most of the spectators. Eventually he turned to walk back to his office. His car wasn't in any danger, but it was blocked in by several fire trucks. He would return later and collect it. In the meantime, the center of town was only about twenty minutes away.

Raoul had grown up in Seattle, gone to college in Oklahoma, and then been drafted by the Dallas Cowboys. He was a big-city kind of guy, enjoying the restaurants, the nightlife, the possibilities. At least he had thought he was. Somewhere along the way, going out all the time had gotten old. He'd wanted to settle down.

“Don't go there,” he told himself firmly.

Revisiting the past was a waste of time. What was more important was the future. He'd chosen Fool's Gold and so far he enjoyed small-town life. Walking nearly everywhere was one of the advantages. So was the lack of traffic. His friends had joked that he wasn't going to have much of a social life, but since his divorce, he hadn't been that interested, so it was all working out.

He reached his office, a first-floor space on a tree-lined side street. There was a restaurant—the Fox and Hound—around the corner, and a Starbucks nearby. For now, it was enough.

He reached for his keys only to see the lights were already on. He pulled open the door and stepped inside.

The three-thousand-square-foot office was more than he needed, but he had plans to expand. His summer camp was just the beginning. Changing the world would require a staff.

Dakota Hendrix, his lone year-round employee,
looked up from her computer. “Were you at the fire? Didn't you mention you were going to the school?”

“I was there.”

“Did everyone get out okay?”

He nodded and briefed her on what had happened—leaving out the part where he went back to check that all the rooms were empty.

Dakota, a pretty woman with shoulder-length blond hair and expressive eyes, listened carefully. She had a PhD in childhood development and he'd been damn lucky to find her, let alone hire her.

One of the reasons Raoul had moved to Fool's Gold had been because of the abandoned camp up in the mountains. He'd been able to get it for practically nothing. He'd updated the facility and this past summer End Zone for Kids had opened its doors.