Donna Clayton - The Sheriff's 6-year-old Secret

The man obviously hadn’t realized that Gwen’s sexual fantasies had made her temporarily check out of their conversation, and for that she was mightily grateful.

“As the principal explained,” he said, “since Charity didn’t attend kindergarten last year, it was necessary to see where she is, knowledge-wise, compared to the other students.”

He smiled again, and even though she knew perfectly well autumn had arrived, Gwen felt as if she’d been struck full in the face with the heat of the midsummer sun. She pressed her lips together and did her best to focus on the topic at hand.

Charity’s father continued, “I will admit that I’m happy she was placed with her peers, rather than put back with the five-year-olds.”

Gwen scrambled around in her thought processes until she was up to speed in this conversation. “W-well, Mr. Thunder, the tests showed your daughter met all the first-grade requirements,” she said.

“Nathan,” he said. “Please call me Nathan.”

Her smile was automatic. But her insides were nothing but chaos. “Only if you’ll call me Gwen.”

A look passed across his mahogany gaze, an unreadable expression that caused her spine to prickle with a needle-sharp sensation that had her feeling the need to arch her back like a cat. Her reaction to this man was terribly unprofessional. She’d better be careful.

“Even without the kindergarten experience—” she forced herself to ignore her physical reaction to him, to remain attentive to the discussion at hand “—Charity is on par with the average students in the class.”

His head bobbed slowly up and down. “I brought all this up because I’m wondering if the days she missed might have contributed to this, um…hitting incident. It seems to me that children form bonds very quickly. And with Charity not being here with the others for the first days of classes…”

“You’re right. Kids do connect almost instantly. They develop friendships, fashion allegiances, form hierarchies, no matter how hard we try to dissuade such behavior. However, they’re also very fickle creatures, switching alliances frequently.” Her mouth pulled wide with a grin. “I want you to know that—other than the recess incident—she did very well today at getting along with her classmates.”

“Well, is the little boy okay?” he asked. “The one she fought with?”

“He’s fine. I spoke with his mother when she picked him up from school just a bit ago. I explained everything.”

He looked so miserable that his daughter might have hurt a fellow student that Gwen’s heart went out to him. She felt it would help him immensely if she let him in on a big secret. “Truly, Mr. Thunder—”

“Nathan,” he reminded her.

“Nathan,” she repeated, “I have a sneaking suspicion that something good just might come out of all this.”

Apparent bewilderment made him frown. She glanced toward the door to make sure no one could overhear what she was about to reveal.

“You see, even after only a few days of school, Billy Whitefeather has shown a…well, a propensity toward bullying the other children. By defending herself, Charity has shown the rest of the class that they don’t have to be fearful of him.”

This information seemed to help smooth his brow a bit, and again, Gwen was acutely aware of how handsome the man was.

“But I did have to stress with Charity that hitting won’t be tolerated,” she went on, forcing herself to ignore the pleasant warmth the man caused to radiate throughout her entire body. “With what’s happening all over this country…there’s so much violence in our schools these days…and kids aren’t feeling safe…well, we’ve adopted a no-tolerance policy. And even though ninety-nine point nine percent of aggression won’t lead to anything more than name-calling and an occasional shove, we still have to take action. We still have to let the children know that violent behavior—in any form—is wrong. Charity seems to understand that.”

“Of course,” he told her. “And I agree wholeheartedly. You can rest assured that I’ll reiterate that with her on the way home.”

“And I want you to know,” Gwen continued, “I had a long discussion with Billy. I tried to make him understand that his actions and his words only aggravated the problem.”

Instigated them, really, she wanted to say. But she didn’t. As a teacher and responsible adult, she had to represent every single one of her students in the fairest way possible.

“Well, if I know Charity—” Nathan’s expression turned sheepish, and Gwen thought it terribly charming “—she probably gave Billy a few choice words of her own.” Amazement made his brows raise a fraction and he shook his head. “In the few weeks since this child entered my life, she’s proved to have a sharp tongue.”

“She does speak her mind, doesn’t she?” Gwen chuckled and suddenly remembered an encounter she’d had with the child. “In fact, she asked me first thing this morning if I forgot to brush my hair.”

His eyes went round with dismay and his mouth dropped open. He blurted, “Y-your hair is beautiful.”

Gwen knew he was only trying to make up for his daughter’s infraction, but the compliment had her blushing with pure pleasure even so.

Reaching out, she touched his sleeve reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t insulted. My students often comment about my unruly hair. I just explain that it’s hard to keep curls like mine under control.”

Suddenly she felt the need to reverse gears a step or two.

“If you don’t mind my asking—” absently she laced her fingers together and placed them in her lap “—what did you mean just now when you said in the few weeks since Charity entered your life?”

One of his muscular shoulders lifted in a shrug. “At the beginning of last month…I wasn’t even aware of Charity’s existence. You see, Charity’s mother and I dated for a while. A very short while. We broke up years ago and I never heard from the woman again. Until she had me contacted last month.”

“Had you contacted?” Gwen couldn’t hide her confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“She couldn’t call herself. Ellen was ill. Extremely ill.” His jaw tensed. “She was dying, actually. And she needed me to take Charity.”

“Oh, my,” Gwen breathed. “You must have been…surprised to learn you’re a father. Incredulous, really. Saddened by the woman’s illness, of course.” It was an amazing story. She couldn’t imagine all that he must have experienced while learning what was sure to have been life-altering news.

He heaved a sigh. “I felt all those things and more. I was forced to deal with some big changes in my life. Ellen’s illness. Her funeral. And at the same time I was attempting to cultivate some kind of relationship with this little girl. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to explain to a child that her mother is going away? Forever? I’m still not sure Charity understands.”

Her heart pinching with compassion, Gwen couldn’t help but remember when her own mother died and she’d been the one who had had to explain things to her brother, so she really did understand.

“It must have been awful,” she murmured. “For both of you, I’m sure.”

“I wanted to get Charity out of the city—”

He blinked and his tongue smoothed across his dusky lips. A strange tingling sensation rushed across every inch of Gwen’s skin. She stifled the shiver that threatened to rock through her.

“—so I brought her here to Smoke Valley.”

The way his dark gaze slid from hers, she couldn’t help but think there was much more to his reasons for leaving New York City than he was willing to reveal to her, a total stranger.