Page 22 of Declan's Hope

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"Okay class, hands up."Yellow, orange, red, purple, and more in a myriad of fall colors to match the leaves outside—along with several that closely resembled mud—lifted in the air. "But not too high," Hope quickly amended when she noticed paint rolling down a few arms. Whatever had possessed her to think finger-painting might be a good activity for a bunch of five-year-olds? On a Monday after they’d just gotten off fall break when they were still wound up?

But as rambunctious as they’d been with excited talk about their time off, she was glad to be back.

Not only because she loved her job, but because she’d found herself distracted with worry over Declan while she’d had nothing else to occupy her mind. And, yes, he continued to invade her thoughts when she least expected it. While the taste and feel of him against her body for those few seconds in his hospital bed had haunted her waking hours and her dreams.

But Declan had made his wishes more than clear soon after their kiss, and so she’d never gone back. Had never called. Although for the life of her she hadn’t been able to figure out what had changed from one second to the next.

Whatever it had been, the cold set of that one blue eye when he’d stared at her had frozen her to the bone. She shivered at the memory. It had been a dead cold that had taken her days to completely thaw out from.

That had been a little over two months ago. And according to Haven, no one—not even Cal, Garrett, or Solace—had been able to break through the wall he had built around himself. He’d shut them all out. Mr. Sheppard hadn’t even managed to make a dent in Declan’s self-imposed isolation.

She brought her focus back to her class. Distractions and five-year-olds weren’t a good combination.

"Now, everyone carefully stand and line up. Girls in one line and boys in the other." She held the door open and, amazingly, the kids followed her instructions. She glanced over the desks and floor. Paint seemed to be everywhere. But it could have been worse. At least she’d had the foresight to cover the desks with plastic wrap and drape everything else—including the kids—with garbage bags. "We’re marching to the bathrooms. Line leaders, when you get there, stop. I’m letting you go in groups to wash your hands. And please don’t touch anything or anyone else on the way."

"Ms. Danford?" Hope zeroed in on the blond-headed little girl at the end of her line wildly waving a yellow-saturated hand.

"Yes, Ashley."

"Toby touched my hair."

"Of course he did," she muttered, throwing a look at an unrepentantly smiling Toby passing through the door with his mud-colored hands lifted high. She shook her head and kept her eyes on Ashley drawing closer. Sure enough a long streak of paint had been deposited in her hair. "I’ll see what I can do after everyone washes up." She followed after the kids and had the first batch go into their respective bathrooms.

Some of her kids began exiting the bathrooms, so she instructed them to sit along the wall with their legs crossed. Hopefully none of them would stick out their feet to trip anyone. Although once Toby came out there was no telling what might happen. She sent in more children.

"Very good, Johnny," she said with a smile for one of her favorite students walking by with his hands stuck out for her inspection. They’d had a bonding moment that first week of school over the prairie dog incident. "Now, go sit along the wall like everyone else."

"Ms. Danford?"

She glanced over at Evelyn sitting along the wall. "Yes?"

"Guess what?"

"What?" she asked with a smile.

"We went to see all the princesses last week."

"Oh, you went to Disney?"

"Yep," the little, curly-headed girl said, nodding. "What did you do?"

She opened her mouth to give her some kind of vague answer that would satisfy a five-year-old. The loud, "Ms. Danford," coming from the boys bathroom saved her, followed by, "Toby’s splashing water on me."

After that, the rest of her afternoon stayed too busy to dwell on Declan Carter. She mopped up water, managed to get the paint out of Ashley’s hair, dried out a couple of other children that had been doused in the bathroom, kept one eye on Toby sitting in the timeout chair, survived her car-rider line duty, and cleaned up from the painting project.

So, basically a typical day in the life of any kindergarten teacher.

But that changed once her day had concluded and she got into her maroon Kia Rio. Her phone rang and she dragged it out of her purse to checked the caller ID, then frowned at the name popping up on the screen.

"Why is Garrett calling me?" she muttered, before swiping to answer. "Hello?"

"How soon can you get to Declan’s house?"

She gripped the phone tight at his abrupt question. Something had happened to Declan. The thought set her heart racing, so her next words came out in a panicked rush. "Is he okay?"

Garrett let out a deep breath, his, "Yes," sounding more like a sigh of aggravation. "For the most part… At least I’m assuming."

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