Engaging the Competition by Melissa Jagears Read Free Book Online Page A

finish her breakfast without getting distracted over Daddy’s preserves again.
    â€œWhat if Daddy sold the house? Would you be all right with that?”
    Momma shook her head. “Your daddy won’t ever sell the house. He’d die first.”
    Charlie clenched her fingernails into the palms of her hands to refrain from informing her of the truth she repressed. “What if we really needed the money? Would you be all right if we sold it then?”
    â€œDaddy spent years building this house for me.” She ran her hand down the doorframe and smiled at the big stone hearth she loved to decorate at Christmas beside the bay window where she placed her freshly cut daffodils every spring. “I’d die before I let him sell it.”
    Charlie closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. If she sold the place, Momma might truly die—perhaps not physically, but the house where Daddy had touched the things she touched was likely the only thing keeping her partially sane. She had to save it for her. If it wasn’t for Harrison and his fool glasses, she’d not be hesitating.
    She squared her shoulders and went to help August herd his cattle onto the property that would soon be his.

    Harrison squinted at his blurry students in front of his desk as they piled their quizzes on the corner. Someone came up behind him but said nothing. “Miss Andrews, you’re late.”
    â€œHow’d you know it was me?” Her voice was unusually breathless.
    â€œJust because I can’t see you doesn’t mean I can’t smell you.”
    â€œWhat!”
    He could just imagine what she looked like now. He glanced over his shoulder, and indeed, her hands had found her hips. “You smell like horse and whatever salve you use on your animals.”
    â€œI can’t believe you just said that loud enough for the students to hear.”
    He chuckled. “They know what you smell like too, whether or not I say it aloud.” He turned and put a hand on her shoulder and lowered his voice. “Smelling like you do isn’t a bad thing, not if we like you.”
    â€œAnd do you like me?”
    His cheek twitched. “Of course.”
    â€œWhen did that happen?”
    He cleared his throat. “I . . . I’ve always liked you.”
    Her posture didn’t change, and he could feel her scrutiny.
    His face grew warmer at the thought of how much he’d actually liked her as a young man. Over the last few days, he’d come to realize the only reason he’d gotten so mad at her seven years ago was because he’d liked her a lot, and that’s why she’d been able to hurt him so badly.
    â€œYou certainly have a funny way of showing it.”
    Yes, indeed. The scraping of chairs against the floor ceased,and he cleared his throat. He dropped his hand and turned to face his hazy students. “Time to start the next section—the American short story. Open to page sixty-five, please.” At the sound of twenty-four students flipping pages, he picked up his Basic English class’s text and handed it to Charlie. “Here’s my book if you want to read along.”
    â€œAre you going to force them all to read aloud again?”
    Force them? “They’re in high school. They read fine.” Did she expect him to read aloud for them when he had to shove his nose against the page to see maybe three words in focus? “All right, class. James, let’s start with you.”
    Charlie crossed in front of him. “Let’s have everyone stand when it’s your turn to read, all right?”
    The room grew quiet. Was it because of her unusual command, or were they waiting for him to second or naysay her?
    He wouldn’t contradict her in front of them, but they’d have to have a talk. This wasn’t the first time she’d given his students directions, but it was the first time she’d done so without consulting him first. Did she