Born To Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

She was getting into her rhythm, the music pounding in her ears, her breathing regular as she jogged through the puddles of slush and avoided the few cars and trucks that were moving along the roadway. A dark blue pickup trailed after her for a few blocks, not passing, and she glanced over at the driver as he finally pulled around her. They didn’t make eye contact; he was too busy fiddling with his CD player or phone or something that kept his attention away from the road.

Idiot, she thought as he finally passed her, taking a corner three blocks down, his taillights glowing red until they disappeared.

Adjusting the volume of her iPod, she concentrated on the course. She still felt low. Maybe it was the flu. It was certainly that time of year, and a grade school was a great breeding ground for all things contagious.

Or her malaise could be the result of overindulging in her favorite junk foods. She had been on a real bender this weekend and had devoured nachos, pizza, and two pints of ice cream, one of mint chocolate chip, and one of jingle-berry ribbon, in honor of the holidays.

Stupid.

She was thirty-five and had put on ten pounds in the past four years, ever since transferring to Evergreen Elementary, where the fourth graders she taught were difficult and the parents . . . Well, she didn’t want to think about them. Talk about overbearing! Half of them acted like she didn’t know her job; the other 50 percent didn’t seem to care what their kid did in school. Their attitude was they didn’t want to be bothered.

Sometimes she wondered why she stuck with it.

Because you love the kids.

Because you feel like you’re making a difference.

Because you like the paycheck and benefits.

And because you really like having most of the summer and two weeks at Christmas off!

Then why did she have to keep reminding herself? she wondered as she passed a laurel hedge in serious need of trimming. She looked over her shoulder before crossing the street.

She thought she saw the same dark pickup creeping up behind her, and she went instantly on alert as she was completely alone and the apartments and houses had dwindled a little as she’d reached the outskirts of town.

But the truck turned down a side street, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Don’t let your imagination get the better of you.

Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little anxious, her nerves strung more tightly than normal. Darkness was settling more quickly than she’d expected, the winter air stark and cold, trees shivering, their naked branches rattling over the steady beat of a Black Eyed Peas song.

Concentrate on your breathing.

She glanced over her shoulder again. The truck was nowhere in sight, and the snow was really coming down.

Good!

She was already breathing hard and blamed her lack of breath on cigarettes. She had quit twice before but had taken up the habit again after the breakup with Trace O’Halleran a little over six months ago. Her blood still boiled when she thought of the sexy cowboy and how she’d pinned her hopes on him, even though they’d dated such a short period. Tall and rangy, with wide shoulders and a slow smile that showed off just the hint of a dimple when he was really amused, the rancher had gotten to her. In a big way. He was a single father of one of her students last year, and she’d zeroed in on him on Back-to-School Night.

And it had been a mistake. Of course. She should never have gotten involved with him. When it came to men, she always jumped in feetfirst, without really thinking. Didn’t she have the divorce papers to prove it?

Another stab at romance with Trace not long ago had ended up badly, and she still blushed when she remembered her attempts at seduction and his rebuke. God, if she thought about it, she could feel his big hands over her wrists as he pushed her against the wall and, instead of kissing her, said, “Enough. It’s over. This was a really bad idea,” before releasing her abruptly and walking out her door.

She had slammed it behind him and could still hear the hollow thud reverberate in her mind.

Live and learn, she thought sourly before checking the street and turning up the hill that was the toughest part of her route. It was worth it, she told herself, because at the crest she was able to run along the cliff that overlooked the river and the falls, the most picturesque point of her run, though her mind was still on Trace. She wondered, now that she wasn’t Eli’s teacher any longer, if there was a chance she could rekindle the relationship.

Maybe she could take him over something she’d baked for Christmas. Cookies? No, that was too corny. A bottle of wine with a Christmas label? Again, he’d see right through it.

Hadn’t she tried the “let’s be friends” routine and had it blow up in her face? How many times had she called him since they broke up? Three times? Four? Eight? Stupid, stupid, stupid! And really, they hadn’t exactly broken up, just like they hadn’t exactly ever been in a relationship, no matter what she’d ridiculously put up on Facebook after two dates. That was what too much wine and listening to friends who were even drunker than you were got you.

Havoc.

Trace, when he’d learned of it through his son, no less, hadn’t been happy, and that had been the beginning of the end. She should never have called him and now winced when she realized she’d dialed his number the night before, then hung up just as his voice mail had answered.

Just be smart and get over him. There are other men out there, even in Grizzly Falls.

She checked the street and crossed to the other side so that she could run along the bluff overlooking the river before the trail opened up to a park where she could take a U-turn and start back.