her disposal. Could look up anything she wanted. But, ethically, she could only do so in accordance with her investigation. She compiled a list of applicants, rejections and awards for the twenty years. Printed it off, too.
Looking up Mark Heber’s application wouldn’t be in accordance with her investigation. But she’d done the right thing. Looked through the records that would be most likely to give rise to a blackmail threat—personnel files, classroom procedures—first. And she’d looked at the Susan Farley scholarship because she already knew there were some questions about that one. Susan had received a full ride, private funding.
No source named.
Addy had a question about one more. Yes, she’d found out about Mark’s unusual scholarship situation because he’d confided in her as a friend. But the whole reason she was in Shelter Valley, posing as a student, was so that she could get in with students and uncover any possible instances of discrimination.
She had to take a look at Mark’s file. Find out who’d applied for Mark Heber’s scholarship on his behalf.
There was nothing there.
* * *
ELLA CALLED JUST before he got off Monday evening. Seven forty-five in Arizona made it almost eleven in Bierly. Another late-night call. Not a good sign.
He didn’t rush out of the plant. Or call her the second he got to his car. He called Nonnie. His grandmother was just on her way to bed.
“I’m settling in for the night, Markie-boy, so don’t come poking in my door when you get home. The light wakes me up.”
“Since when?”
“I got my you-know-whats on, too, so I won’t be needing the bathroom. I’m tired. And I want some time to myself.”
“You’ve had hours to yourself this evening.”
“Nah, the church ladies stopped by. They want me to show ’em how to do them Christmas chimes I made out of can lids—you know the ones that made the money for the church school a few years ago?”
“Yeah, I know.” And he didn’t have to wonder how the church ladies knew. Nonnie had been very proud of her invention while he’d had cramps in his hands for a week after bending all the lids just the way she’d wanted them. “I’ve got my drill in the back of the truck,” he told her. “And my clamp and pliers, too. You start saving your lids and I’ll get them ready for you.”
“Good. I was gonna ask you tomorrow. Now, I’m off to bed. You drive careful and remember I have my phone on the pillow, and I’ll call if I need anything, so you don’t have to worry I’m gonna come rolling out into the middle of anything you might be doing tonight.”
“You’re welcome to roll out into my homework anytime.”
“Addy’s been home alone all night,” Nonnie said. “Ain’t right, a young girl like that, good-looking and sweet, spending so much time over there alone. I’d have invited her for dinner but the ladies was here.”
“I’ll check the patio when I get home,” Mark said because he knew the conversation wouldn’t end until he did. “If she’s out there, I’ll tell her good-night for you.”
“She likes white wine.”
“Nonnie...”
“You should stop on your way home and get some.”
“Good night, old woman.”
He was grinning as he hung up. And didn’t immediately dial his next call.
He drove out to the desert instead. To a vista that overlooked the city lights in Shelter Valley. What was he going to say if Ella wanted to marry him?
The right thing. He had to do the right thing.
What was right? Nonnie had her opinion. Addy agreed with her—if for different reasons. Marrying Ella was wrong.
Neither of those opinions mattered. He had to do what he thought was right. The problem was, what he thought seemed to change by the hour.
This confusion was new to him, and he didn’t like it.
So he focused instead on the mental checklist of what he knew.
The baby was as much his responsibility as hers. It wasn’t right that just her life be disrupted.
He wasn’t sure the baby was his.
If the baby was his, he wanted it.
He didn’t want to marry Ella.
He couldn’t choose his happiness at the expense of others.
He had to stay in Shelter Valley for at least four years.
Shelter Valley was beginning to feel like home.
He missed some of his buddies in Bierly.
He missed having his own home, filled with his own things—a place where he could knock out a wall if it would help Nonnie maneuver more easily.
Ella couldn’t drive. She wouldn’t be able to get around Shelter Valley.
He