Page 21 of A Twist of Faith
Voices reached her from the conference room, adding another thrum or two to her heartbeat. She slowed her pace, took a few deep breaths to calm down, and stepped into the doorway. A small group of three men and four women gathered around an oval table in the small room. One man, with a very Richard Gere-ish sort of professional look, sat in deep conversation with a younger woman, blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. Another gentleman sat at the end of the table, fingers flying over the keyboard of his laptop. The typing only came to a halt as he glanced up to note her presence.
“Good morning, Dr. Roseland.”
Dee met the gray-blue eyes of the woman at the head of the table, a woman who commanded attention with the lift of her chin.
Dee extended her hand as she approached the obvious leader. “Good morning, Dr. Russell.”
They’d only met twice, and both times in a group of two or more, but Shaye Russell gave off every intimidation-vibe known to man … or woman. Her short, classically spiked salt-and-pepper hair fit the direct shift of her expression. To the point.
“Welcome. I hope you are settling well?”
“Yes, thank you for your recommendation on the house.”
Dr. Russell’s expressions softened almost imperceptibly. “Grace Mitchell is a one-of-a-kind lady. She always takes care of her tenants.”
“Yes.” Dee shifted her weight and scanned the room again, forcing the lie out of her mouth.Think promotion. Think promotion. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”
The admittance hurt less than she thought it would, but Dr. Russell’s keen attention seemed to pick up on Dee’s reservation … or maybe Dee was paranoid. The Chair’s searching stare sent a warning tingle down Dee’s spine. The room grew quiet.
Dr. Russell turned to the others. “As you know, I am spearheading this collaboration with our department at UVA and Dr. Adelina Roseland has come to join us from Charlottesville to assist me. Our first year is somewhat of a trial—to gauge interest and the effectiveness of the idea. The grant is for two years, as we find our feet, so to speak.” Her gaze grew intense. “And weknowthe need in this part of Virginia to offer such a program, so we are going tomakeit work. Isn’t that right, people?”
A swell of verbal consents followed. Dee shifted on her feet again and placed her laptop on the table in front of her.
Dr. Russell focused on Dee, the directness of her attention a bit disconcerting. “All concerns, questions, and complaints can come to me and we’ll tackle this opportunity together.” There was a hint of challenge in Dr. Russell’s last sentence, almost as if she expected Dee to test her. “As a team.”
Dee nodded and took the proffered seat. “I look forward to being a part of the team.”
Dr. Russell hesitated, gaze still searching Dee’s face before she gestured to the others in the room. “Some of us have worked together for a few years developing prerequisite courses so expansion into a graduate program wouldn’t be as large a transition. Dr. Theodore Ryken began teaching a few introductory courses for a Communicative Disorders minor about three years ago.”
The Gere-ish gentleman’s bright blue eyes crinkled at the edges as he offered her a broad smile. Not exactly the two-hundred-year-old geriatric she’d pictured in her mind. Another kick to her negative presumptions.
“Nice to have you, Dr. Roseland.” The gentleman’s accent placed his origin somewhere in the New England states. Hmm, another outsider? “If there’s any way I can assist you, all you need to do is ask.”
Dee nodded her thanks and gripped the edge of her laptop to calm the slightest tremors to her hands. Maybe she wasn’t ready to be an Assistant Chair, if only for this grant. She couldn’t even meet new professionals without shaking like jelly on a plate.
“A list of projected teaching assignments is on your agenda and should concur with the previous list I sent out last week.” Dr. Russell tilted her chin toward one of the young women across the table from her. “Dr. Ryken and Dr. Elizabeth Simpkins will assist you with covering the adult courses.”
“Glad to have you.” The woman with caramel-colored hair framing a set of similarly colored eyes grinned. “And I ought to offer my condolences. I’m sorry you’re trapped at Mitchell’s Crossroads with that crazy clan.”
“Like you can say anything, Liz.” The blonde next to her rolled her eyes to the dark-haired woman at her right as if everyone understood the subtle innuendo of her comment. “Lizzie spent most of her childhood at Mitchell’s Crossroads, Dee. She’s practically part of our crazy clan.”
Did everyone assume her name was Dee?And did the woman sayourcrazy clan?
With a light laugh, the blonde stood and offered her hand. “I’m Rainey Mitchell. Kept my maiden name.”
Dee paused in her handshake. Mitchell? Another one?
“Ms. Rainey Mitchell is our child language specialist.” Dr. Russell interjected. “Along with Paige Ramsey, whose area of expertise is early intervention and pediatric feeding.”
“Welcome to Ransom, Dr. Roseland.” Paige’s voice came soft and somewhat reserved. Maybe a bit of kindred spirit lived in those walnut brown eyes of hers.
“Glad to have you here.” Mrs. Mitchell responded with a well-cloaked accent, only a few hints in her vowels. “Lizzie, Paige, and I will be happy to show you around when you have the chance.” Rainey nudged Dr. Simpkins; their obvious camaraderie nursed Dee’s ache for friendship. “We’ve been here most our lives, well, except Paige. But we’ve inaugurated her so now she knows all the best places too.”
A magnetic pull stemmed from the warmth in Rainey’s eyes—sheer friendliness. It reminded her of Reese, but the similarities stopped there. Instead of Reese’s milk-chocolate gaze, Rainey’s eyes shimmered with hues of pale blue-green, her honey blond hair in direct contrast to her brother’s black. But they smiled in the same way. Generously.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry you had the unfortunate opportunity to visit my brother yesterday.” Rainey shook her head with mock sympathy from the crook of her lips. “Not exactly the way we’d planned on welcoming you to the community—a cow birthing and a rainstorm.”
