Lynnette Kent - Smoky Mountain Home

“Okay.” That seemed to be Darcy’s favorite word. As she veered away, though, she stopped and looked back at Ruth Ann. “I had fun this afternoon. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Darcy. Like I said, come back anytime.”

Ruth Ann watched the girl walk with dragging steps toward the residence hall. In the two hours they’d spent together, she’d gained the impression that Darcy’s energy level was dialed to Low—she simply didn’t put out much effort, even with the horses. She seemed competent with the animals, but uncertain of herself, reminding Ruth Ann of a child outside the toy store, nose pressed against the window as she stared at the gifts she knew she couldn’t buy, wouldn’t receive.

Jayne Thomas would be able to provide an explanation for Darcy’s behavior. Maybe a conference with the counselor and Darcy’s teachers would be a good idea. Ruth Ann wanted to know what she would be dealing with as she worked with Darcy, what sore points to avoid and what counseling techniques to use.

She was so deep in thought she hadn’t noticed anyone approaching. When a hand closed around her elbow, she gasped and automatically assumed a defensive posture.

Jonah Granger gave a derisive snort. “Going to take me out with a kick and a karate chop?”

Ruth Ann jerked her arm free. “Why are you sneaking up on me? What are you doing here? Parents aren’t allowed to visit until Thanksgiving.”

“But architects are,” he countered. “So I came looking for you.”

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