been on a real bender this weekend and had devoured nachos, pizza, and two pints of ice cream, one of mint chocolate chip, and one of jingle-berry ribbon, in honor of the holidays.
Stupid.
She was thirty-five and had put on ten pounds in the past four years, ever since transferring to Evergreen Elementary, where the fourth graders she taught were difficult and the parents . . . Well, she didnât want to think about them. Talk about overbearing! Half of them acted like she didnât know her job; the other 50 percent didnât seem to care what their kid did in school. Their attitude was they didnât want to be bothered.
Sometimes she wondered why she stuck with it.
Because you love the kids.
Because you feel like youâre making a difference.
Because you like the paycheck and benefits.
And because you really like having most of the summer and two weeks at Christmas off!
Then why did she have to keep reminding herself? she wondered as she passed a laurel hedge in serious need of trimming. She looked over her shoulder before crossing the street.
She thought she saw the same dark pickup creeping up behind her, and she went instantly on alert as she was completely alone and the apartments and houses had dwindled a little as sheâd reached the outskirts of town.
But the truck turned down a side street, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Donât let your imagination get the better of you.
Still, she couldnât help but feel a little anxious, her nerves strung more tightly than normal. Darkness was settling more quickly than sheâd expected, the winter air stark and cold, trees shivering, their naked branches rattling over the steady beat of a Black Eyed Peas song.
Concentrate on your breathing.
She glanced over her shoulder again. The truck was nowhere in sight, and the snow was really coming down.
Good!
She was already breathing hard and blamed her lack of breath on cigarettes. She had quit twice before but had taken up the habit again after the breakup with Trace OâHalleran a little over six months ago. Her blood still boiled when she thought of the sexy cowboy and how sheâd pinned her hopes on him, even though theyâd dated such a short period. Tall and rangy, with wide shoulders and a slow smile that showed off just the hint of a dimple when he was really amused, the rancher had gotten to her. In a big way. He was a single father of one of her students last year, and sheâd zeroed in on him on Back-to-School Night.
And it had been a mistake. Of course. She should never have gotten involved with him. When it came to men, she always jumped in feetfirst, without really thinking. Didnât she have the divorce papers to prove it?
Another stab at romance with Trace not long ago had ended up badly, and she still blushed when she remembered her attempts at seduction and his rebuke. God, if she thought about it, she could feel his big hands over her wrists as he pushed her against the wall and, instead of kissing her, said, âEnough. Itâs over. This was a really bad idea,â before releasing her abruptly and walking out her door.
She had slammed it behind him and could still hear the hollow thud reverberate in her mind.
Live and learn, she thought sourly before checking the street and turning up the hill that was the toughest part of her route. It was worth it, she told herself, because at the crest she was able to run along the cliff that overlooked the river and the falls, the most picturesque point of her run, though her mind was still on Trace. She wondered, now that she wasnât Eliâs teacher any longer, if there was a chance she could rekindle the relationship.
Maybe she could take him over something sheâd baked for Christmas. Cookies? No, that was too corny. A bottle of wine with a Christmas label? Again, heâd see right through it.
Hadnât she tried the âletâs be friendsâ routine and had it blow up in her face?