Leaving Liberty (20 page)

Chapter
Sixteen

           
Daisy could feel a bead of sweat trail down her back and tried to keep calm.
Her silk top was sticking to her skin and she longed to rip off her nice jacket
and flap her arms for some air circulation. Her skirt was wrinkled and the new
light blue heels that were so cute and playful had morphed into torture
devices. Every toe ached independently and the class was only half over. It was
the second week of the summer program and she had thought the first two classes
had just been crazy because they were settling in. Apparently, it was going to
be an all-the-time kind of crazy. Who knew directing a room packed with
preschoolers would be so hard?

           
“Nita, can you hand me the bucket of crayons?”

           
Nita handed over a small plastic bucket and grinned. After the first class,
she’d mentioned having some sort of snack for the kids, maybe those little
goldfish crackers and some juice, but Daisy hadn’t seen the need. It was just
an hour and it would fly by. Read a few books, color some sheets, catch up on
the reading forms and hand out toys. Not hard.

           
It was twenty minutes into the hour and the basement room rocked with excited
chatter. Kids were up and down, papers fluttered to the carpet at several
second intervals and Daisy had developed a twitch in her right eye.

           
“Do you want me to take over for a second?” Nita whispered her question but
didn’t really need to. No one could hear anything but shrieks and clatters.

           
Daisy wanted to say no. She was a teacher, after all. She had a master’s degree
in early education but this was not like a science class of fifth graders. This
was like Armageddon run by very small people. “Sure. I need to run up to the
office for the instructions on the puppet craft.”

           
Nita clapped her hands for attention and called out for quiet. In seconds, the
kids were seated and coloring, a few whispers and giggles the only noise. Daisy
trudged out of the basement and up the stairs. This summer reading program was
kicking her rear. It was a few hours a week but it took five times as long to
plan and the clean-up was a nightmare. The very first day she’d used glitter,
even though Nita had warned her. Sure enough, that glitter was never coming out
of the carpet. She could vacuum until the world stopped turning and there would
still be glints and sparkles of leftover craft glitter in the rough weave.

           
She made it to the landing and took a deep breath. The air was cooler up here
and the noise faded to nothing. Daisy stood for a moment, letting the tension
ease out of her shoulders. The loaner bicycle from Nita was the best bike she’d
ever owned but commuting took some getting used to. The twinge in her back told
her a teacher’s life wasn’t the most active. She’d always been a bit of a
string bean an wished she had more curves but even strings beans needed to
move, to stretch.

           
Reaching up high, she wiggled her fingertips along the dark wood frame of the
doorway leading to the main floor. Her eyes fell closed and she concentrated on
the muscles along her arms and shoulders. A few more seconds and she let her hands
swing down, down to the floor, eyes shut tight. She could feel the sun through
the glass entryway on her back and focused on the steady warmth against her
skin. Again she lifted her arms to the doorframe, as high as she could reach.
She bent her knees, feeling the burn in the muscles of her calves and thighs.

           
Finally, she straightened up. Rolling her neck a few times she heard the
slightest sound behind her and whirled toward the front door. A small shriek of
surprise escaped her when she registered Lane standing immobile on the top
step, framed perfectly in the full-length, beveled glass panel. He was in full
uniform with his cap pulled low, his expression half confusion and half
amusement.

           
Daisy stepped forward and yanked on the long handle, pulling it open. “There’s
no need to just stand there. Come on in.” She knew she was being rude, but she
couldn’t help it. She must have looked ridiculous.

           
He sounded like he was fighting back laughter. “Sorry. If I’d opened the door,
I would have knocked into you. Better to wait until you were done with
your…exercise.”

           
She glared at him, imagining how bizarre she must have seemed, reaching and
squatting, eyes closed and back arched. His lips twitched and despite herself,
she started to smile.

           
 “You’ll have to teach me those moves. Must be something you guys do out
there in Fresno.”

           
She snorted, trying desperately to get her laughter under control. “Oh, yeah.
It’s called wackysthenics.”

           
“Excellent. I hope it spreads to every person in Liberty. We could all use a
little wacky now and then.” His eyes were crinkled at the corners and the
dimples were in sharp relief. He smelled good, like he’d just gotten out of the
shower.

           
Daisy felt the laughter in her chest tighten into something else and she
swallowed hard. “Looking for new reading?” Dumb question. Why else did anyone
come to the library?

           
“I usually stop by the first week of the summer program.” He held out a small
packet of stickers. Gold sheriff’s badges sparkled in the sunlight. “Just to
say hi to the kids and make sure they know they can always call us for help.”

           
She nodded. She’d never thought of the police as friends when she was young.
She’d thought of them as the ones who came when the neighbors called to
complain about her dad yelling his head off at all hours of the night. She’d
never thought they might be concerned for her or pitied her. As a child, she’d
been afraid of the police and everything they stood for.

           
“That’s a great idea. Go on down. I’m headed up to the office to grab some
instructions I forgot.” She sighed, brushing her bangs back from her face. “I
feel like I’m running so far behind schedule. The kids just about had me for
breakfast and it’s only the first week.”

           
“Did they take a few nibbles before Nita got them in line?” He leaned back
against the door, hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked comfortable, happy.

           
“They’re sweet kids but…” She chewed her lip, not wanting to be negative.
Nita’s comment about her not being the type to raise babies echoed in her head.
She liked kids but this group was almost more than she could handle. “The
noise. And the chaos. And the crafts. It’s a lot harder than I thought it would
be.”

           
“I can’t think of the last time something was easier than I thought it would
be.” His words were light but his tone held a note of something she couldn’t
quite define.

           
She glanced at him, remembering what he’d said about living in Liberty,
surrounded by memories of his brother. “True,” she said, softly. “It’s not
about being easy, is it?”

           
He didn’t answer. His gaze was locked on hers and an emotion flickered in his
eyes that made her suck in a breath. He stepped closer, lifting his hand to tug
on the brim of his hat. She noted the habitual movement but didn’t laugh,
didn’t even smile. There was nothing funny about the beat of silence that
stretched between them. For a moment, she could feel him struggling. His
expression was raw and completely unguarded. Whether he wanted to speak or
wanted to keep silent, she couldn’t tell. In the end, he dropped his gaze to
the floor and straightened up. “I better head downstairs.”

           
She nodded, her heart in her throat. She watched him descend the narrow stairs
to the basement room and forced herself to move toward the office. Lane Bennett
had been very close to saying something important. Blindly crossing the first
floor to the office, she willed herself to take a few deep breaths. It was
nothing. Probably another plea to meet with her father. Or maybe another speech
about how the library was a lost cause.

           
Snagging the puppet-making instructions off the desk, she straightened her
shoulders. It wasn’t anything personal. He was a good cop and a gorgeous man,
but that look on his face wasn’t anything to do with her. His expression
flashed through her mind and she shoved it away. He’d looked like a man
battling against himself, poised between yearning and fear. But she couldn’t
imagine what he could have wanted to say.

                                                           
***

           
Classic. Lane paused at the juncture in the stairwell and tried to regroup. He
had planned to come and visit the kids, clean and simple but what actually
occurred was some Twilight Zone version of his real life.

           
First, Daisy in the foyer, stretching her gorgeous self like a cat in the sun.
He didn’t want to watch, wanted to turn around and head back down the front
steps, but in the end he’d stood there with his mouth open like any other
warm-blooded male.

           
Then he had to stay and talk. He would never learn. If he stayed, he listened.
And when he listened, he fell harder and harder for this woman. Everything
about her seemed to speak right to the soft underside of him, his weak spots,
his middle of the night moments when he wasn’t sure whether he was making a
mess of the one life he’d been given or not.

           
Right when she’d said it wasn’t about being easy, he’d been struck by the crazy
urge to ask her to dinner. He wanted to be with this woman who got him like
nobody else did. And that was plain stupid. Just hours ago he was determined to
help her reunite with her father, but stay personally as far away as possible.
Then he’d forgotten about Rocky. It was all about Lane and his little
infatuation.

           
He rubbed a hand over his face. It was just a summer. If he could make it
through the summer, then she’d go back home and he’d be able to pick up where
he’d left off.

           
Straightening his back and pasting a smile to his face, he tried to ignore the
ache that had bloomed in his chest at the thought of Daisy leaving Liberty. It
was the best thing for everybody. Just a few more months and they could all go
back to normal.

           
                                                    
***

           
Daisy watched a six foot police officer chat effortlessly with a room full of
four year old kids. They didn’t seem to see what she saw: the height, the gun,
the cuffs, the uniform. They acted like he was something exciting and fun, not
scary in the least.

           
“Officer Lane, can I ride in your police car?” Jasmine was talking before her
hand was even in the air, huge smile on her little face.

           
“Not today but maybe we can have a field trip to the parking lot someday to
look inside, if Miss McConnell says it’s all right.”  He was squatting,
down at their level, hat in hand. His hair was recently trimmed, showing a bit
of a tan line on the back of his neck.

           
“Do you always catch the bad guys?” A blond-haired little boy wiggled where he
sat cross legged on the carpet, his Spiderman T-shirt hanging loosely on his
skinny frame.

           
“We sure try.” Lane grinned, obviously enjoying the impromptu question and
answer session.

           
“Can I shoot your gun?” A little guy in the front stood up, as if expecting to
receive permission.

           
Daisy sucked in a breath. The kid had probably seen so many shows where guns
were just a natural part of the plot and everybody got one. She felt a jolt of
surprise as Lane waved him forward.

           
“Come here, buddy.” He put on knee on the floor and waited for the little boy
to come up to the front. Resting a hand on his shoulder, he looked him in the
eye. “Some guns are toys and won’t hurt you. Some guns are real and are very
dangerous. You should never touch a gun, especially if you don’t know if it’s a
real gun or not. If you find one, you should tell an adult right away, okay?”

           
The little boy hung his dark head and shrugged. It was obvious from his
expression that he’d been expecting to get to at least touch Lane’s service
revolver.

           
Lane paused, thinking. “Do you drive a car yet?”

           
 “No! My mom drives the car.”

           
“You would never try to drive your mom’s car, right?”

           
He shook his head. “I might crash it and hurt myself.”

           
“Exactly. Cars are for big people who have a license and know how to use one.
It’s the same for guns.”

           
His face cleared, as if he wasn’t so upset about not getting to play with it.
“Can I see your handcuffs?”

           
Daisy let out a breath as he unhooked the cuffs from his belt and let the boy
examine them. He answered those questions so easily. She was used to questions
about fish scales and bees and pollination. Not guns.

           
Another hand went up. “Do you ever take little kids to jail?”

           
Something flickered in his expression and he shook his head. “Never.”