Angel Smits - A Message for Julia

When the hell had they grown so far apart that he couldn’t even touch his wife when he wanted to?

Like now.

“You could—” She stepped toward him. “Could you put something about how it’s not safe for kids to work in the mines in your report?”

He stared at her, incredulous. “No.”

“Why not?”

His anger surprised him. She’d always had her causes and another thing he’d learned was to take cover when she started talking about one of them. Why couldn’t they have a conversation anymore without one of them getting angry? He forced himself to focus, to tamp down his reaction. “For one, I’m not willing to risk my career for someone else’s problem. And this isn’t your business. One of us has to keep working and feed us.”

“And two?” she bit out.

“I don’t agree with you. Ryan is old enough to make his own decisions.

“He’s only seventeen.”

“When I was seventeen, I was on my own. At least he has parents to turn to, which he did.”

“They don’t understand—”

“No, Julia. You don’t understand. Ever since…since…last fall…” His voice wavered, but he quickly caught himself. “You want to fix everyone else’s life. Take care of every lost soul that crosses your path.” He stepped closer to her, lowering his voice, hoping to ease the tension between them. “Maybe you should focus on your own problems and your own life for a change.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Whoever told you life was fair? It sure as hell wasn’t me.”

He closed his eyes for an instant trying to clear his mind. His life had never been even close to fair. But what bothered him most was the fact she’d kept all of this—her new job and this crisis—a secret from him. They’d never had secrets.

When he’d first heard Jack, he realized now, some part of his brain had thought it sounded like Julia. But he’d dismissed it because he’d thought she was still teaching at the elementary school. Now he wasn’t as shocked as he should be. “Julia, don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” She actually sounded surprised.

“This. It’s not your battle.”

“I disagree.” She stomped across the kitchen and stared out the back window.

The distance between them was too great. He had to find a way across it. “Tell me why you left the elementary school.” He did not want to start this conversation, but it now seemed inevitable.

“I couldn’t do it. Because…it…it just wasn’t for me.” She fidgeted with the belt of her robe.

Linc hated seeing the forlorn look on her face. He ached to pick her up, carry her away and fix it all. He also knew she’d resist that and probably deck him in the process. “I can be there tonight.”

She looked up, and he thought she was going to smile. He held his breath, waiting. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly smiled.

“But I’m not promising anything else.” He couldn’t do more than that.

She nodded and turned away again.

Linc went back upstairs, back to bed for a couple hours. He wished she’d join him, but he knew better. She’d have to call in sick to work and she took her commitments seriously—too seriously sometimes.

The sheets were too damned cold.

Friday Evening, 7:00 p.m.

THE CAFETERIA WAS FULL, but not so full that it was intimidating. Julia looked around. She knew most of these people, some by name but more by face.

The six-member school board sat up front at a couple of the lunch tables that had been turned sideways. The twenty or so other people sat at tables where her students usually hung out laughing and eating lunch. It was a small town. A relatively small school. Nothing fancy.

A few more people filed in and Julia leaned forward. Where was he? Her heart sank. She didn’t want to think that Linc had broken his promise, but he did have a habit of getting caught up in work at times and forgetting things—like dinner.

The board had reviewed the budget, rehashed the booth at the county fair and had just started to go over the upcoming end-of-year graduation activities when the door creaked open.

Julia fought her smile. She’d always prided herself on being independent. She didn’t want people to think she was one of those women who couldn’t survive without a man. But knowing that Linc had come to support her made something inside her shift, something warm. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do this alone anymore. He wound his way into the room and took the seat beside her.

After another ten minutes, the meeting seemed to be winding down. Julia fought not to get her hopes up. Maybe they’d forget about her contract.

“One final item,” a woman at the end of the table said. Julia craned her neck to see. She recognized her. She knew Shirley Wise from various events as well as from when she’d interviewed for the job at the high school.

“Is Julia Holmes here?” Shirley looked directly at her.

“I’m here.” Julia remained seated and Linc nudged her with his elbow.

“Stand up,” he muttered.

Julia frowned at him, but stood rather than have anyone around them hear her argue.

“We’ve reviewed your contract and the letter of reprimand.” Shirley looked over her half glasses at Julia. “Both will stand, barring any further incidents. Thank you, everyone—”

That was it? She wasn’t going to get the chance to speak? People around her looked confused and disapproving. Many probably already knew what had happened, others were totally clueless and were thinking the worst of her. Julia wanted to have her chance to defend herself and her actions.

“Julia, shhh,” Linc said softly. He knew her too well, but he should also know she wasn’t going to back down.

“I’d like to have my say.”

“It won’t make a difference.”

Shocked, she turned to stare down at him. What did he mean it wouldn’t make a difference? To him? To the school board? To her?

Before she could recover and respond to Shirley, the crowd stood and the board members were heading to the door. Her heart sank and her anger rose. She glared at Linc, knowing disappointment fueled her ire.

She was a good teacher, she knew that. She’d worked so hard for and at this job. She loved her students. She stared at Linc. He didn’t meet her gaze. He was chatting with the woman beside him, making casual conversation about the weather. Totally unaware that his actions were what hurt the most.

Suddenly, she realized he no longer believed in her.

LINC KNEW HE WAS in serious trouble, knew from a lifetime of experience and seven years of living with Julia that he was in deep. What he didn’t know was how to fix it. The helplessness he felt had become familiar over the past several months. He knew he should face it head-on, but instead, he let the woman beside him go on and on about the dry spell they were having. He couldn’t have cared less about the weather.

The crowd thinned, and he waited for Julia to head to the door. He turned to look at her and immediately regretted the impulse. She was ticked, all right.

But even worse was the pain he saw lurking behind the anger in her eyes. His heart sank. Maybe there was no fixing any of this.

They drove home separately. He followed her SUV in his truck. Her taillights burned red as they drove through town where few streetlights had come on. In the distance, the glow of the mine created a halo on the horizon. His mind wandered to the work he had to get done up there tomorrow.

He suddenly felt very tired.

Linc pulled in beside her in the garage. Even before he’d opened his door, she was out of her car and the force of her door slamming shook the entire vehicle. She stomped up the two steps to the house and slammed that door, too.