Page 23 of Hit the Ground
“Hey, Dad.” He tossed his backpack in the back seat and yanked the door shut, still grinning.
“Hey, bud.” I reached over, ruffling his shaggy hair, and made a mental note to get him into the barber, reminding me I needed to see to my own hair. He was getting as scraggly as I was.
“Good day?”
“Yep.” He had a stack of papers clutched tight in his hand. “Ms. Clark told me about the coolest thing. I really want to do it, and I need you to keep an open mind.”
I’d been about to pull out, but slid the truck back into park and turned to him. “I’m already not liking the sound of this, bud. Why don’t you come out with it instead of trying to hype me up?”
“Okay, but listen before you react.” He shoved the papers at me. “Ms. Clark found this robotics summer camp she thinks is perfect for me. It’s for kids my age, and it’s three weeks long. I’d stay in the dorms at U of Wyoming, which is really cool. Technically, I could come home on the weekends, but they do stuff like going to baseball games and amusement parks, so I might not want to. But I could if you miss me. And it’s in August, so I’d be home all of June and July to help on the ranch. It’s not even that expensive, Dad, and it sounds like I’d get to do a lot of hands-on work—”
I cut him off. “Ms. Clark told you all this?”
His mouth slammed closed, and he nodded. “Yeah. She found this camp for me. I missed the cutoff date to apply, but she spoke with the director—”
“She spoke with the director?” I ground out.
“Uh…yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Dad, why are you getting all red? Did I say something wrong?”
I turned the truck off. “No.Youdidn’t do a thing wrong. Stay here while I go speak with Ms. Clark.”
“No—what?” He put his hand on his door. “Dad, you don’t need to talk to her. It’s okay. I won’t—”
“Stay here, Jess.”
Good as he was, he listened without argument, though he didn’t want to. He had a special affinity for the librarian. Probably thought I was going to rip her head off or something. I was pissed, but he didn’t have to worry about that. I was going to have a conversation with this woman who thought it was okay totalk to him about something that was never going to happen—to set him up for disappointment and make me the bad guy.
I slammed the truck door a little harder than I meant to and stalked across the parking lot, my boots crunching over gravel. The automatic doors slid open, letting out a waft of that dusty paper smell I’d always associated with school.
Inside, it was quiet as expected. A couple kids were bent over laptops, an older man was reading a newspaper, and a mom was trying to corral her toddler near the kids’ section. I spotted the front desk and made a beeline, scanning for what I imagined would be a stern old librarian with a tight bun and even tighter mouth.
Instead, what I found stopped me short.
Standing at the counter, sliding a stack of books into a bin with smooth, practiced motions, was a woman I recognized instantly. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a soft lavender cardigan rested over her white T-shirt, and dark blue jeans hugged her legs.
Alice.
AliceClark.
My brain short-circuited.Thiswas Ms. Clark? The Ms. Clark Jesse had been talking about for years? The one who sent him home with stacks of books she knew he’d like, helped him with his homework, found websites and projects that would interest him? Alice had been all that for Jesse, and I’d had no idea.
She glanced up, and when she saw me, her eyes rounded. “Caleb?” she said, her voice quiet in the hush of the library. “Hi. I didn’t expect to see you.”
I blinked at her like an idiot. “You’re…Ms. Clark?”
Her lips quirked, a hint of amusement in her eyes as she tugged on the end of her ponytail. “That’s what they call me around here.”
Of course they did. Because that was her name. I scrubbed a hand over my beard, trying to shake off the confusion, leftover anger simmering under my skin. Right. That was why I was here.
“We need to talk,” I said gruffly.
Her brows lifted, and she tilted her head to the side, studying me. “About Jesse, I assume?”
“Yeah. About Jesse.”
“Okay.” She gestured toward a small side office off the front desk. “Let’s step in here so we don’t disturb anyone.”
I followed, my eyes catching on the sway of her ponytail as that same spicy scent mixed with a hint of old books wrapped around me. I tried not to get swallowed up in how good she smelled. I didn’t have time for those thoughts. I was here to put a stop to whatever idea she’d planted in my kid’s head before he got his hopes up about something he couldn’t have.
