Home to Stay (The Long Road Home #2) - Maryann Jordan Page 0,12

his brow knit. “I’m sorry? But you were in the photograph…”

“Oh, my gracious! I had no idea what photograph Lucy sent!”

“Lucy?”

“Yes, Lucy Carrington. The teacher. She was taking pictures that day, and I was in a few of them. It never occurred to me that you would think I was the teacher. But you’ll just love Lucy! She’ll be thrilled you’re here!”

She latched onto his arm and began walking at a brisk pace, forcing his feet to follow along. “We’re on the back hall where the fifth graders are located.” She waved her hand in front of them, her silver hair bouncing as she walked. “Here we are!”

Before he had a chance to beat a retreat, the door was opened, the sound of talking children poured out into the hall, and he was thrust inside the classroom, Mrs. Farthingale at his side.

“Ms. Carrington… class… look who has come to visit us! Our very own Sergeant Roster!”

The room fell silent, and John swallowed deeply as he peered down at the room filled with small desks, small chairs, and small people. Christ, what have I gotten myself into?

Hating the black space to the left, he swung his head around to peruse the whole room. A teacher’s desk was in the corner and a dark-haired, petite woman stood staring back, her open-mouthed, wide-eyed expression capturing his attention. Her hair was neatly pulled back instead of clipped to the top of her head. Her skirt and blouse were bright colors but weren’t covered in paint splotches. Still, he recognized her instantly.

“You?”

“You!”

They spoke at the same time, but she was the first to continue. “You’re John? I mean Sergeant Roster?”

Stunned to see the woman from the hardware store, albeit much more professionally attired, he nodded, his head jerking with the motion.

She hurried around the desk toward him, her pink lips curved upward and warm brown eyes pinned on his face. Once again, she didn’t focus on his scar but instead held his gaze. “Oh, my… I had no idea… I didn’t know… but when I saw you in the hardware store, there was something so familiar about you. But your hair is longer, and your beard is shorter.” Sighing, she blushed. “Oh, I’m blabbing again.”

Mrs. Farthingale swooped over, hands clasped in front of her. “Isn’t this a lovely surprise? And he thought I was the teacher! Well, I must head over to Mr. Pritchett’s class. His substitute is having such a hard time. I’ll talk to you later!”

They both turned and watched as the aide left the room, barely aware the students were staring at them.

“She talks in exclamation points.”

His brow lowered and he turned to face Lucy, not having a clue what to say to her odd pronouncement.

She blushed, shaking her head. “Mrs. Farthingale. I always imagine that she must punctuate all her sentences with exclamation points when she talks. Or, at least, her enthusiasm appears that way to me.”

Understanding dawned, and he grinned. “Yes, ma’am. I know what you mean.”

“Oh, please, call me Lucy.” She glanced toward the class and scrunched her mouth to the side before turning her attention back to him. “Well, here it’s best if you call me Ms. Carrington.” She glanced up at the clock, her smile falling. “Oh, dear, we only have ten minutes until the class has to report to the music teacher.”

“That’s all right, ma— Uh, Ms. Carrington. I just dropped by to say thanks for the letters.”

“No, no,” the children clambered. “We want to talk to him!”

Lucy held up her hand and her brow lifted, shifting her expression from the smiling woman he’d encountered at the store to one who had complete control. Without her saying a word, the class immediately quieted. He was impressed but knew if he’d had a teacher that was as beautiful as her when he was that age, he’d have obeyed, too.

“We’ll use the next ten minutes wisely if you cooperate, and then we’ll have him come back when we have more time to have a lovely talk with Sergeant Roster.”

As though on cue, the kids immediately found their desks, sat down, and quieted, even the ones he instantly discerned would generally be rowdier. He followed her to the front of the classroom where she faced the children. “As you all now know, this is Sergeant Roster, the soldier that we’ve written to this year, and who has been so gracious to write us back when he was able. We have very little time right now for questions, but hopefully,