Mack enveloped Annabeth in a hug. “Good to see marriage is agreeing with you, Mrs. Boone.”
“Well, thank you for marrying us,” she said, smiling.
His father grinned. “Don’t know if you know Don and Haddie Miles?”
“In passing, I think.” Annabeth was all warm smiles and handshakes. “It’s a pleasure.”
Pleasure might be pushing it, but Ryder just smiled. Haddie Miles was one of the few women who used to rub his mother the wrong way. Hell, she was an older version of Winnie Michaels.
“Look at you, Ryder,” Haddie said. “What a fine man you’ve turned into. Either Annabeth doesn’t know what a rascal you are, or she’s decided to try to redeem you.”
Ryder didn’t flinch. “She knows all about my past, ma’am. And she’s shown me the error of my ways.” Haddie smirked, but the men present turned a universally appreciative gaze upon his wife.
“And this old pain in the rear is Charles Sharp.” Teddy stepped back so the gnarled older gentleman could shake Annabeth’s hand.
“Call me Cutter,” the old man said as he waved Teddy back. “My eyesight’s not so good,” he grumbled, coming to stand inches from Annabeth. His milky eyes widened. “Hell’s bells, boy, you married well.” Cutter shook his head. “And she’s the principal, too, Teddy? The one there’s all the fuss over?”
“Cutter—” Haddie shushed the older man.
Ryder felt Annabeth stiffen and took her hand in his.
“I see why now.” Cutter laughed. “Ol’ prune face Branson can’t stand to be put in his place by any woman. One that looks like this? Hooey, gotta chap his hide.”
It took everything Ryder had to swallow his laugh.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to talk about school board business here, Cutter,” Mack said, trying to rein the older man in.
Cutter made a rude sound. “Like to see ’em try to fire me.” His eyes narrowed as he assessed Annabeth again. “Why do you think you’re the best one for the job, Annabeth Boone?”
“Now, Cutter...” Don placed a hand on the other man’s arm.
“I’ll leave her be.” Cutter shrugged out from under the other man’s touch. “After she answers the question.”
Ryder saw the look of panic on Annabeth’s face. He knew, deep down, she was tempted to use this opportunity to sell herself. She wanted the job and she’d worked hard to get it. And, as she reminded him time and again, the job helped her make ends meet. Not that she needed to worry about that now.
“Mr. Sharp, I can’t, in good faith, answer that question. Not here. I know I’m not the only candidate.” She glanced at each of them while leaning in to him. His arm slipped around her waist, offering her the support she was looking for. “I’d feel wrong, unethical, trying to get ahead like that.”
Cutter made another rude sound. “You can bet your sweet ass Branson wouldn’t have said that.” He laughed.
“I expect you’ll be taking your honeymoon this summer?” Mack asked.
Ryder smiled. A honeymoon? Sounded like a good idea. Everyone would expect it. And it would give him the time he needed with Annabeth. “The sooner the better,” he agreed.
“Where are you thinking about going? My daughter, June, and her husband went to Paris. They said it was awful. The people were rude and everything cost too much. One time—” Haddie was off. She was a talker, he remembered that much.
Annabeth shifted from one foot to the other, her hand pressing his tightly. She did it again, harder. He glanced at her, noting how pale she looked. He steadied her with his arm, taking her hand in his. Her fingers were icy cold. He scanned the room, looking for help. He caught the eye of Josie, chatting happily with Lola and Flo. He tilted his head slightly, hoping Josie would get the message. He saw her frown, glance at Annabeth and head their way.
“Annabeth?” Josie interrupted. “I’m so sorry. I need to steal you.”
“Oh? Of course.” Annabeth smiled warmly at the group. “We’ll make sure not to go to Paris, Mrs. Miles. Thank you for sharing that with me. It was lovely to see you all.”
He wanted to go with her, but he knew better. Josie would take care of her.
“What are your plans, Ryder?” Mr. Miles asked. “Now you’ve got a wife and son, I imagine you’re looking into bigger and better career opportunities.”
“Ryder’s a damn fine mechanic,” his father interrupted. “John Hardy’s always singing his praises. And he should. Works hard, for John and when he’s helping out here.” His father nodded at him. Ryder tried not to stare back, stunned by his father’s words. “When he’s not riding bulls that is,” his father added reluctantly.
“I’ve seen him ride,” Mack joined in. “Had me on my feet counting down. Damn impressive.”