Bartender's Beauty (Culpepper Cowboys Book 11) Page 9

  The secretary smiled at her, handing her a key. “You’re in room one-forty-three. Can you find it?”

  “Yes, this is my alma mater.” Dallas turned to leave the office, but was stopped.

  “Dallas! I’d like to talk to you for a moment before you go to your classroom if you don’t mind.” It was the voice of Mr. Shoemaker, who had been the principal even when she’d attended school there. He’d always been an affable sort, loved by kids and teachers alike. She was glad he was still there.

  “Mr. Shoemaker, it’s good to see you.” Dallas walked over to him.

  “It’s good to see you again. You were always one of our most promising students. I’m glad you’ll be teaching here.” She hadn’t gotten to see him during the interview process, because the hiring was done by the school board.

  “I’m really glad to be here.”

  “I’m sorry about your father.”

  Dallas nodded, her eyes steady. Every time someone told her they were sorry about her father, she wanted to say she wasn’t, but how rude would that be? “Thank you.”

  “So glad you married Austin James yesterday.” he asked. “That boy had it bad for you, even when you were in school here. ‘Bout time you put him out of his misery.”

  Dallas shook her head, surprised that even the principal had heard the rumors when she had no idea. “How does everyone know that? We got married just yesterday.”

  “I’m glad you finally put him out of his misery.” He clapped her on the shoulder. “I expect great things to come out of your classroom, Dallas. Welcome to the team.”

  “No pressure, though, right?” she asked with a grin.

  He chuckled. “No pressure. We both know exactly what you’re capable of. Now stop wasting my time, and get to work!”

  She hurried off to her classroom, already feeling better about her day. The secretary had been very kind, and the principal was exactly as she remembered him. She opened her classroom door and stepped in, immediately going to the window to try to alleviate the mustiness.

  She walked around the classroom, trying to get a feel for it. She’d been teaching in the same room for seven years, so it was strange to know this one would be hers. She straightened the chairs into rows, before going to sit at her desk, looking at the huge pile of books. Always before she’d been able to plan one lesson plan for all six classes. That wouldn’t be possible this year.

  She counted the books, thinking of each class as she did. Pre-algebra, algebra, geometry, algebra two, trigonometry, and calculus. It was the same number of classes she was used to teaching, but it would be so much more work.

  Dallas breathed deeply and picked up the hardest book first. She’d plan out calculus first and work her way to the easier classes. Right at that moment, she wasn’t certain two weeks would be enough time to plan as she would have liked. Normally, she planned out the whole school year in advance so she would have time to grade papers and tests, as well as be there for her students. Math seemed to be the hardest subject for a lot of kids, so she was determined to be there for them all.

  She pulled out one of the planning sheets she’d brought with her and got to work.

  All through the morning, teachers were sticking their heads into her classroom. She recognized most of them as teachers who had once taught her. Mrs. Lane for English stopped by first. “Dallas! I’d heard you’d be teaching math this year.” She came into the room and hugged Dallas, who rose to her feet. “I’m still disappointed you didn’t become a writer, you know. You had a gift with words that puts some of our greatest writers to shame.”

  Dallas smiled. “Thank you, but I didn’t love writing the way I love math. I think I made the right choice.”

  “Yes, but I wanted you to make the write choice.” Mrs. Lane’s word emphasis made Dallas laugh.

  “Maybe I’ll start writing during the summer breaks,” Dallas said with a grin.

  “If you decide to, let me know. I’d love to read it.” The older woman hurried off to her own work and Dallas stared at the door she’d left open behind her, smiling.

  By the time Austin arrived with a take-out lunch from the diner, Dallas was ready for a break. She had papers spread out all over her desk and had just stood to stretch her legs.

  He knocked on the open door. “Secretary gave me your room number. This is the old math room, isn’t it?” He shuddered. “It hurts just walking in here.”

  She laughed, walking over to take the drinks he carried. Setting them down on the bookshelf behind her desk, she said, “Give me a second, and I’ll have this ready for you.”

  She quickly put all the papers and books she’d been using in a pile and set them on one corner of her desk, before carrying a chair to the front. “There. Now we have a table to eat on.”

  He frowned, setting the bag down. “This wasn’t how I had it pictured.”

  Dallas walked to him, kissing him quickly. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “I was hoping I could sit in one of the student desks, and we could play bad student.”

  She shook her head, laughing softly. “No way. You’ve lost your mind.”

  He sat down in the chair opposite her, grinning. “I had to try!”

  “No, you really didn’t, but I won’t hold it against you.” She reached for one of the burgers he’d brought, unwrapping it and taking a bite. “I was hungrier than I realized.”

  “Did you eat breakfast?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “No, I was running a little late.”

  “How was your morning? Anything eventful happen?”

  “Oh, several of the teachers have stopped in to say hi. So many that we had as teachers are still teaching here. Mrs. Lane came to tell me she looked forward to working with me, but she wished I’d chosen the write profession.”

  Austin looked at her blankly for a moment, and then he groaned. “That’s awful!”

  She grinned. “I thought so too. Mr. Shoemaker was really sweet. I feel different being back here as a teacher. Not nearly as suppressed.”

  “Glad to hear it, because I’m not about to let you run back to Cheyenne. This is where you belong. With me.” He reached out and wiped a bit of mustard from the corner of her mouth with his finger. “I talked to Megan Barrows today.”

  “Who’s that? New in town?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. She’s been here for seven or eight years.”

  “That’s new to me.”

  “She’s a real estate agent. She has a couple of houses for us to look at.”

  “Okay. When do you want to look?”

  “I told her Saturday would be good.” He took a sip of his drink through the straw, making a loud slurping sound as he reached the bottom. “Does that work for you?”

  She nodded. “Sounds perfect. Are you working Saturday?”

  He shook his head. “I got someone to cover the weekend shifts, and starting in two weeks, I’ll be on days.”

  “Oh good! That sounds perfect.” She liked the idea of their schedules being more in synch, especially as they were getting used to living together. “If you’re home in the evenings, you can cook me dinner every night.”

  Austin frowned. “Didn’t you learn anything from home-ec? The woman cooks and brings the man his slippers, while he sits in a chair watching television. Stop trying to rock the boat, Dallas.”

  She rolled her eyes, eating one last fry and pushing the rest toward him. “I’m stuffed.”

  He took one of them, sighing dramatically. “We’ve been married forty-eight hours and already you think you can do whatever you want and order me around. It’s like you learned nothing from college.”

  Dallas looked away, suddenly feeling horrible about herself. She stood and walked over to the window, looking out onto the school lawn.

  “What did I say? Whatever it is, I’m sorry!”

  She turned to him. “Remember the morning you came over to my house and you could hear my dad yelling?”

  “Yeah. The day he died.” The
day he’d had to do his best not to kill him.

  “What you didn’t hear was him yelling at me that college had taken all my brain cells and turned them into fat.” Even saying the f-word to quote her dad made her feel like she was cussing. She knew it wasn’t a bad word, but it felt like one with as many times as it had been screamed at her in anger.

  “You know I’d never say anything like that to you, right?” He stood up and walked over to her, pulling her into his arms. “I worry your dad messed with your head too much. I mean, we’re all a little scarred from childhood, but I think you might need to talk to a counselor or something. You get this look that tells me I’ve said something a little too close to something your dad said, and I know I’ve messed up again.”

  She shook her head. “I talked to a counselor when I was in college, and it helped a lot. I guess I could try it again.”

  “Maybe the new pastor Brother Anthony picked up will be doing some counseling through the church. I can’t imagine anyone going to Brother Anthony for counseling.”

  She grinned. “They’d leave more messed up than they went in. I’ll look into it. As long as you know I’m happy with you. I don’t want you to think this has anything to do with our marriage.”

  “I know it doesn’t. It’s all about that jerk you had for a father and all the horrible things he used to say.” He stroked his hand down her back. “I would like to see you talk to someone about it.”

  “All right. If it will make you feel better,” she said with a grin, knowing she did have a lot to work through, even though it was different than what Austin was thinking. What she needed to work through was the enormous guilt she felt for not grieving her father. For being relieved at his death. She even had some guilt for marrying the day after his funeral.

  “Oh, that’s so kind of you.” He tilted her face up to his and kissed her softly. “I need to head out, and you look like you have a lot of work to do.”

  She groaned, looking at her desk. “I’m trying to plan out a year’s work of lessons for six different classes. I taught six classes every day in Cheyenne, but they were all the same class! This will be a challenge for sure, but I’m not sure I’m up to it.”

  “Oh, please. If old man Javowski could teach six different classes per day, you know you can!” He helped her clean off her desk. “I’ll see you after work tonight.”

  She winked at him with a smile. “I’ll make sure I get a nap.”

  “You do that.”

  As he walked away, Austin thought about their conversation, worrying about her. She did need to see a counselor and soon. He knew there was so much she wasn’t talking to him about, and that was fine, as long as she talked to someone. He couldn’t help worrying about her.

  Dallas sat back down at her desk, pulling the calculus book toward her once more. She loved learning calculus, and playing with imaginary numbers, but she’d never had the opportunity to teach it. When she’d taken it in that very classroom all those years ago, there had only been two students in the class. If she had a roster, she would know what size of class to deal with. Teaching two students was very different than teaching thirty.

  She sighed. Whatever else it was, the school year was going to be a huge challenge for her.

  She picked up her phone. First things first. She found the number for the church by googling it and tapped it. Lovie, Brother Anthony’s wife, answered as she usually did. “Hi. Is the church offering counseling at this time?”

  “Dallas, dear. Is this about your father or your new marriage? Because if it’s the new marriage, you should just give it some time.”

  So much for trying to be discreet. Dallas should have known the older woman would recognize her voice. “It’s not about my marriage. Is there counseling?”

  “Yes. The new assistant pastor, Benjamin, is going to be doing some counseling. He seems to be better suited for it than Tony.”

  “Is there any way I could get in to see him?” Dallas asked.

  “Of course. Could you come after church on Sunday?”

  “I’ll be there.” After Dallas ended the call, she frowned. It wasn’t just the guilt about how she felt when her father died. It was the nightmares. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hide them.

  Chapter Nine

  Dallas woke up, sitting up straight in the bed. The dream was the same as she’d had every night since her father died. She was with Austin, and they were slow dancing in front of her father’s headstone when a hand came up out of the ground, trying to drag her down into the grave.

  Her father’s words changed every night, but they always meant the same thing. She shouldn’t have married so quickly. She should have taken time to mourn him. She should miss him more and not be relieved at his death.

  She got out of bed and walked into the kitchen, getting a drink of water. It had been a month since her father’s death, and the nightmares weren’t getting better. She’d thought they would by now, but they just seemed to be getting worse. She had enough on her plate being a newlywed and teaching six different classes. The nightmares had to stop.

  She felt arms come around her from behind. “Are you all right?”

  Setting the glass down, she turned in Austin’s arms and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.” Austin knew something was bothering her, and he’d known it since their wedding. “What’s wrong?”

  She sighed. “I’m just having weird dreams. About my dad.”

  He frowned. “How long have you been having them?”

  “Since the day he died.” Dallas took his hand leading him into the living room and sitting close to him on the couch. Thankfully it was early Saturday morning, and neither of them had to work the next day. “The dream always starts with us slow dancing on his grave, and then he grabs my ankle and tries to pull me in with him. He berates me for not being sad when he died, for feeling relieved, and most of all for marrying you right away.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Every single night.”

  Austin frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having dreams like that?”

  “What could you do? I’m talking to Pastor Benjamin about them, and he’s trying to make me feel better and come to grips with things, but it’s just not working.”

  “So why do you think you feel bad?” he asked. “What exactly do you think you did wrong?”

  She shrugged. “He was my father. I should have loved him. It should have mattered to me that he died and was unhappy with me, but more than anything, I shouldn’t have married so quickly.”

  Austin shook his head, not sure why he was surprised about the nightmares, but wishing she’d told him from the beginning. “He was your father. I think that’s the only part that you got right in everything you said. As your father it was his responsibility to help you to grow up in a way that didn’t leave you a puddle on the floor. He should have taught you about how beautiful and strong you are. He should have praised you for being so smart, but instead, he only treated you like you were put on earth to be his doormat. You realize all the fault lies in him and not in you right? You realize you’re not obligated to love a man who has treated you like excrement your entire life?”

  She shrugged. “Shouldn’t I have felt something when he died? And should my first thought have been, ‘Thank you, God. He can’t hurt me anymore?’ How can that possibly be the right way to feel about someone?”

  “How did you feel when your mother died?” he asked, trying to convince her from another angle.

  “I cried for months. I still miss her every day. I know if she were with me, I’d be able to work through this.”

  “That shows me that the fault isn’t with you. She was a good mother to you. I remember watching the two of you together so many times over the years and thinking what a great relationship you had. And when you lost her, you grieved. I remember it happened during the school year, but your dad wouldn’t let you stay home from school more than a couple
of days. You came to school with bloodshot eyes every day, and you barely spoke, even to me.” He shook his head. “That’s the normal way you grieve when someone you care about dies. You’re normal. The way your father treated you was what was wrong with that relationship, not how you reacted to him.”

  “But shouldn’t I have felt bad that we didn’t make amends before his death?”

  “What about that letter Marcus gave you? What did he say?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t read it. I’m not sure if I ever will. I thought about burning it, because it would be cathartic, but I might regret it in a year or two.”

  “Then have you thought about what you think you have to make amends for?” he asked. “He was dying, so you gave up your entire life to come here and take care of him. He couldn’t have asked for more.”

  “He couldn’t have asked for loyalty and respect? Those were two things I could have given freely, and I chose not to.”

  “And why did you choose not to?” Austin gripped her hands tightly in his, hoping she would understand what he was trying to tell her.

  “Because he was mean and cruel. But no matter how mean and cruel, he was still my father. I should have respected him.”

  He sighed, taking her hand and getting to his feet. “I know you’re going to work through this, and you’re going to be a better person for it. You’re going to be a better mother for it.”

  Dallas stood and followed him back into the bedroom, slipping under the covers with him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going through all this.”

  “I can see why you didn’t. You take everything on yourself, and you always have. You probably thought it was your fault that you were having the nightmares, because you didn’t have the proper respect for your dad. And you probably thought that I would think you weren’t capable of feeling love and respect for someone.”

  A tear slipped from her eye as she nodded. “You’ve always known me better than anyone.”

  “Then know this. I know how deeply you can love. I know how much you respect people who deserve it. You are so much more in my eyes than you could ever be in yours. I hope you know how special you really are someday. I know I’ll tell you every single day until you start to believe it.”