Dorothy Clark - Lessons from the Heart

Erin’s hands tightened around her upper arms, digging her fingertips into the soft flesh. It was that experience that had destroyed Alayne’s trust in God and ultimately split their family. It was the reason she, herself, was so wary and distrustful of men that she’d never been able to have a successful relationship.

Erin frowned and walked back into the living room. She didn’t want to be that way. She wanted to fall in love and marry and have children. She’d even dated a few times. But when a man showed interest in becoming close, when he tried to hold her or kiss her, she panicked, her defenses kicked in and she stopped seeing him. She knew it was foolish, but she couldn’t help herself.

Erin sighed, sat down in the chair and picked up her pen to finish grading the papers. Maybe someday she would find a man she could trust and fall in love with, but it wouldn’t be a “lady-killer” like David Carlson. No matter how he made her feel!

David opened the folder, stared down at the phone number he’d scrawled on the inside of the cover then closed it again. Was it too late to call? He checked his watch. It wasn’t quite eleven. He reached for the portable phone, then drew his hand back and walked away from his desk. It didn’t matter what time it was—no time would be the right time to call Erin Kelly.

David scowled and scrubbed his hands through his hair. “Get out of my head, woman! I’m not calling you now or ever!”

He walked over to the window and stared out into the night feeling edgy and aggravated. Just the thought of religion had that effect on him. He’d had enough of it from his missionary father to last him a lifetime. He knew what it felt like to be ignored and unwanted by a religious zealot. He’d lived his life that way. He didn’t need that from anyone else—certainly not a woman. So why couldn’t he forget about Erin Kelly? Why did she stick like a burr to his consciousness?

“Aaah!” David strode over to the door, snapped off the study lights then immediately flipped them back on when the phone rang. His pulse quickened as he strode to his desk. Maybe this was a breaking story. A big story. He snatched up the receiver. “David Carlson.”

“I saw you on TV with that cop. Don’t ID the shooter. Bad things happen to guys with big mouths.”

“Who is—?” The receiver went dead. David stared at it for a moment, debating calling the cops. But one thing he’d learned as a reporter—people got their kicks in strange ways. Like making crank calls. This guy was probably yet another of those wackos. And if the cops tapped his phone and his informants found out about it…

David hung up the receiver, turned off the lights again then headed for the kitchen to get a glass of juice before it was time to switch on the TV and watch the news. His lips curled into a smile as he jumped the two steps and walked to the refrigerator. Someday he would be the reporter holding the microphone and smiling into the camera. He was close to making that goal come true. He’d already made the right contacts. All he needed was that one big story!

Hmm, let’s see…poster boards, markers, letter stencils and tracing paper—that should do it. Now all she needed was some manila folders and she was finished shopping. Erin wheeled the cart down the next aisle, picked up the folders and headed for the checkout.

“Did you find everything you wanted today?”

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled at the cashier and lifted the items out of the cart onto the counter.

“Cash or charge?”

“Charge.” She reached into her pocket.

“Erin?”

David Carlson. Erin’s pulse stuttered. It had been two weeks, but she’d know that rich, baritone voice anywhere. She arranged her features into a polite smile and turned. “Hello, Mr. Carlson.”

“That’s David.” He inclined his head toward the items the clerk was putting into a plastic bag. “Looks like you’ve got a big project coming up.”

“Yes.” She handed the woman the school’s credit card. “The children learned about animals from the different areas of our country this year, and we’re going to make posters about them to decorate our room for graduation.” She signed her name to the slip, then slid the card and the receipt in her jeans pocket.

“Sounds like fun.”

“I think the children will enjoy it.” She gave him a polite smile. “Nice seeing you again.” She lifted the bag off the counter, and the large poster boards promptly flopped out onto the floor. “Oops!”

David stooped and picked up the boards. “Slippery things, plastic bags. I’ll carry these for you.”

“That’s very kind, but—” she stretched out her hand “—I don’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother.” David tucked the posters under his arm, paid for the ink cartridge he was buying and followed her out the door. “Where’s your car?”

“Across the street. I like to walk in the park when I’m finished shopping.” She hurried her steps.

“That sounds like a good idea. Would you mind if I joined you?”

Did he think—? Erin jerked her head sideways to look at him. She’d disabuse him of that notion right now! “You don’t have to do that. I wasn’t hinting. I really do walk in the park whenever I come shopping.” She stopped beside her car and pushed the button on her key to unlock the trunk.

“I believe you.” David smiled down at her. “And even if you were hinting, I wouldn’t have asked to join you unless I wanted to.” His smile spread into a slow grin that paralyzed her lungs. “I was going to call and tell you I’ve finished the piece about the center and the new grant, but this way I get to tell you in person. The piece will be in the paper this Saturday.”

“Wonderful! Professor Stiles will be so pleased.” Erin put her shopping bag into the trunk. All right, Mr. Carlson, message received! You can take your charming grin and leave any time now, so I can start breathing normally again.

“Aha! What’s this I see? A word game?” David picked up the box he’d moved aside to make room for the poster boards.

Erin nodded. “I play it with the children. You’d be surprised at how quickly a five-year-old can catch on to the concept of crosswords.” She busied herself tying the handles of the plastic bag together so she wouldn’t have to look at him.

“I’ll bet you always win.”

“Well, of course I would if we played that way!” Erin shot David an annoyed look. What sort of teacher did he think she was pitting her wisdom against the children’s? He was grinning again. Hot blood swamped her cheeks. He’d been teasing her—and she’d risen to the bait. His grin widened when their gazes met and she went breathless again. Where was a paper bag when you needed one!

“How are you against someone your own age?”

“I beg your pardon?” He couldn’t mean—

“I challenge you to a game. Right here and now—on that table in the park.” David pointed. “But before you accept, remember—I’m a reporter. Words are my business. I never lose at word games.”

“Oh no?” Erin’s lungs started to function correctly. This she could handle! She smiled. “I believe you may have just opened yourself up for your first loss, Mr. Carlson.”

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “Because I’ll be playing against you?” He reached out and gripped the trunk lid with his free hand.

Erin shook her head. “No. Because God’s word says, ‘Pride goeth before destruction,’ and that warning you gave me sounded suspiciously like pride to me.”

“I see.” David studied her for a moment, then gave the box he held a shake that rattled the tiles inside. “And I say, that you, Miss Kelly, do not know the difference between pride and certainty.”