the gym.
Hmm, she wondered. What was that about?
She glanced back to see that the pickup was still there. In fact, Richard Ward had gotten out and was walking toward her. The night was cold and he wore jeans, work boots, a flannel shirt and down vest. His eyes were shadowed by the artificial outdoor lighting, but she thought they were wary.
“Ms. Callahan.”
“Mr. Ward.” She turned her head to smile at some students. “Sarah, Danielle, Micayla. Have fun.”
“Chilly night to have to stand out here,” Richard remarked.
“Yes, it is.” She’d pulled out her wool peacoat for the first time and had the collar turned up over a scarf wrapped around her neck. She even wore gloves. She could see her breath. His, too, come to think of it.
He remained silent as she spoke to more kids and waved greetings at a couple of parents. She saw out of the corner of her eyes that he’d shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. When there was a momentary lull, he spoke. “I keep expecting to hear from you.”
She faced him. “Trevor hasn’t been in any more fights, thank goodness. We had some vandalism, but as far as I can tell he wasn’t tied to it. Which is not to say he doesn’t still worry me.”
“Me, too.”
Well, that was honest. It didn’t so much surprise her as make her aware anew of how badly she’d misjudged him. After seeing him earnestly making the rounds talking to Trevor’s teachers, she’d been forced to realize that he did care about his son and was, in fact, taking full parental responsibility. He still made her uncomfortable, but that wasn’t his fault. Seeing him only reminded her of how poorly she’d handled that meeting—and probably the phone call preceding it.
Okay, and then there was the fact that he reminded her for the first time in a long while that she was a woman, with a woman’s needs. Right now, for example, she was painfully aware of his size, broad shoulders, dark, tousled hair and the angles and planes of his face that made it look…austere. Although that might not be the bone structure. Molly had a feeling this man was suppressing a whole lot.
“I gather he and your daughter aren’t an item anymore,” he said after a minute.
“Yes, so she tells me.”
“Did she say why?”
“No.” Molly frowned and really looked at him. “They’re young. Pairings don’t usually last long.”
“Maybe not.” He rocked back on his heels. “I met Trevor’s mother in high school. Dated her the last two years, and married her.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it. She didn’t know why she was shocked that he’d told her so much. It hadn’t been a throwaway, making conversation kind of comment. Had he really gotten married at eighteen? She was horrified whenever she heard about students graduating and getting married right away.
Not that she could say much, married at twenty and a mother at twenty-one. Yes, but see how that had turned out. Maybe it’s why she was horrified by the idea of it happening to anyone else.
“But you’re divorced,” she heard herself say, and winced.
“I didn’t say it was a good idea. Only that some high school romances get serious.”
She nodded.
“I have the impression Caitlyn hurt him.”
Oh, so that was why he was loitering at her side? Wanting to blame her daughter? Molly’s anger fired right up. Maybe her first impression was right after all; maybe he was the kind of parent who always wanted to blame someone else.
“Funny,” she said sharply. “I have the impression he hurt Cait. She didn’t even come tonight.”
“Really.” He continued to stand there, rocking subtly on the balls of his feet, watching her. Cars pulling up to the curb were having to maneuver to get around his pickup.
She greeted more people. There he stood. Exasperation and something that felt a little bit like panic finally made her turn back to him.
“Mr. Ward, I’m afraid I need to be available to other parents. And I’ll have to go inside soon. If you’ll excuse me…?”
She would have said his face was expressionless, but now it became really expressionless.
“Of course,” he said. “Sorry. I wanted… It doesn’t matter. Poor timing. Hope the evening goes smoothly.” He nodded and walked away, climbing a moment later into his pickup and accelerating away from the curb without once looking back at her.
I wanted… What?
An ache in her chest told her she should have guessed he needed to talk to her about something specific. Of course