Her lower lip was getting pouty. “Not when it’s
snowing like this.”
Troy Thorsen grabbed a hat and put it on her, pulling
it down over her ears even as she shook her head madly,
fighting him. “You have to come out, or we won’t have
even sides.”
She yanked it off and threw it at him, her eyes
flashing. “I don’t have to do anything.”
Their teacher intervened. “No, you don’t. Amy, if
you’d rather stay inside, that’s fine. Mr. Fallon has a
good library. You can pick out a book and read in front
of the fire with me.”
“But, Ms. Mac!” the skinny kid protested. “Aren’t
you coming out?”
“Are you kidding? Not a chance.”
“Bummer,” somebody muttered.
Kelli sniffed and pointedly turned her back on
Amy. “Let’s just go out. It doesn’t matter if sides
aren’t even.”
“Yeah,” a couple of them agreed. All began zipping
parkas and donning hats.
Amy smiled at Hopper, the boy she’d been hanging
on. “You could keep me company. We could play a game.
Or, like, explore the lodge.” Be alone, her tone promised.
Yanking on gloves, he missed the full wattage of her
smile and possibly her implicit promise. “Nah, it’s going to be cool out there. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Standing to one side, John saw anger flare on her face.
Then, “Oh, fine!” she snapped. “I’ll come already.”
She appropriated a parka the girl in braces had been
reaching for, picked out a faux-fur headband that left
her hair to ripple down her back and chose gloves.
“Cool!” Hopper declared, as oblivious to the cold-
shoulder she gave him now as he’d been to her earlier,
flirtation.
Coatless—she’d loaned hers to one of the girls—
Fiona followed them out onto the porch. “Remember,
you’ll stay right in front. I want to be able to see all of
you whenever I glance out.”
“Yes, Ms. Mac,” they all said dutifully, meanwhile
rolling their eyes.
Shaking her head, she came back inside and shut the
heavy front door. “Want to bet on how long they last
out there?”
“I’m going to say ten minutes for the one who didn’t
want to go.”
She laughed. “Hopper may live to regret not falling
in line.”
“Or be very, very grateful he ticked her off early
on.”
This smile was wry. “Amy is a bit of a handful. She’s
an only child, which doesn’t always mean spoiled…”
“But in Amy’s case does,” he said bluntly.
“I shouldn’t have said that.” She seemed perturbed
at the idea of criticizing one of her charges. “I’m an only
child myself.”
Interesting. He wouldn’t have guessed. Nodding in
acknowledgment, he changed the subject, “If you’ll
excuse me, I have work to do.”
“Can I help?”
He shouldn’t succumb to temptation. Spending time
alone with her wasn’t smart. But she was not only the
first woman to interest him since he’d landed stateside,
she was also the first person of either gender he’d had
any inclination to talk to.
So he said, “If you want to clean bathrooms.”
He was ashamed of himself for sounding ungracious.
She’d been more than generous in getting the whole
group to help out. Once upon a time, he’d known how to
make pleasant conversation. Not so long ago. Before…
John willed his mind to go blank.
Fiona helped hold him in the here and now. “Our
bathrooms?” She sounded horrified. “We can clean
them ourselves.”
“We’ll just do a quick swipe. Before your charges
come in and need hot baths again.”
“Oh, dear. They will, won’t they?” She nodded.
“Fine. But they won’t have made their beds, either, and
we’re not doing that for them.”
She sounded so fierce, a trace of amusement stirred
in him. He hardly recognized it. He’d lost his sense of
humor along with so much else in Iraq.
Climbing the stairs, he asked, “Are you going to be