them. And he couldn’t pretend that spending time with Rainey would be punishment. Not with that face, that hair, that voice.
He refocused his thoughts on the kids, three rascals who needed time and space to establish their roots. His mother believed good family roots allowed for great wings, and Luke was determined Aiden should have both, even if he’d been reluctant to follow through in the past. Maybe with Rainey’s girls around more often, the three of them could attain more solid ground together.
Chapter Two
Rainey strode down the hall to Miss Patterson’s room on Friday afternoon. Mr. O’Mara met her at the door. “I’m sorry we had to call you in, Rainey, but we’ve got a situation here.”
Mr. O’Mara was the kind of principal that kept his cool. Today he looked exasperated. At her? At the twins? She didn’t know. “How can I help?”
Her words softened his expression. “Come over here.” He walked to a door on the far side of the empty room.
“Where are the kids?” She glanced around the classroom. Bright-toned fall leaves decorated a mural of trees on two walls. Alphabet squares took the place of fruit and nuts among the branches, an inviting way of introducing letters to small children. “Art class? Music?”
“We took them into the gym for playtime so they wouldn’t witness adults pulling their hair out over the antics of two miscreants.” Miss Patterson bit the words through tight teeth, looking none too pleased. Was it Rainey’s presence or the twins’ misbehavior that pushed her this far?
“Sonya and Dorrie, this is Mommy speaking. Come out of there. Now.”
“Dorrie’s not in there.”
A deep voice rumbled from Rainey’s left, and she didn’t have to turn to see the deputy sheriff’s broad chest and shaved chin, he was suddenly standing so close. Warmth emanated from his dark blue uniform shirt. His tie was crooked, as if he’d loosened it, unthinking. He was hatless right now, and his blond-brown hair curled slightly, even cut short. “Aiden and Sonya have locked themselves in the closet.”
Rainey couldn’t resist. “That’s a pretty bold move for a couple of shy kids.”
“But we’d prefer they embolden themselves in a socially acceptable manner,” interjected Miss Patterson, unamused. “Rather than disrupt the entire afternoon lesson with this nonsense.”
Luke shifted slightly. His shoulders rose. His chest broadened. To save them from the outburst she figured was coming, Rainey stretched out a hand. “Give me the key and I’ll open the door.”
Mr. O’Mara frowned. Miss Patterson looked suddenly guilt-stricken.
Luke’s mouth dropped open as realization struck. “You don’t have a key to this door?”
“It appears to be missing.”
“Because I haven’t needed to lock this closet ever.” Miss Patterson’s voice tightened. “Therefore there was no need for a key. Until today, that is.”
“Have you called a locksmith? Doesn’t the janitor have a master set of keys?”
Mr. O’Mara nodded. “We’ve called in a locksmith from Clearwater, but he can’t get here for another hour. And for some reason, it appears that Mr. Gordon doesn’t possess a key to this particular door, either.”
“So you have a door in the kindergarten classroom that locks from the inside, but has no key?”
“As I said...” Miss Patterson drew herself up to her full five-foot-two-inch height, as if posturing would help the situation. “We haven’t needed one—until today.”
“That doesn’t eliminate the negligence of not having one,” Luke offered. His tone was mild, but tension rolled off him. “Right now my son is locked in a closet and we can’t get him out. With Aiden’s history...”
Rainey had no idea what Aiden’s history was, but a giggle from the closet interrupted Luke.
A second giggle joined the first.
Clearly, the two children were more at peace with the situation than the four adults gathered around the door.
“Aiden Campbell, open that door. Now.”
Silence reigned momentarily before being broken by another laugh.
Rainey nudged Luke with her elbow. When he turned, she swept his sheriff’s attire a quick glance. “He’s obviously in awe of the uniform. And your authority.”
Luke sighed and eyed the hinges before shifting his attention to the principal. “Can we pop the hinges?”
Mr. O’Mara shook his head. “They appear slightly warped, so no. We can’t.”
More whispers and giggles from inside the closet weren’t helping the situation, although Rainey was tempted to laugh right along with the two naughty kids. What did that say about her lack of parenting ability?
Miss Patterson’s anxiety was sky-high, and Mr. O’Mara had gone from frustrated to angry with himself. “It’s certainly a situation we’ll rectify now that we’ve been made aware of it. The lack of key and the bad hinges. But in the meantime...” He cast a glance to the locked closet. “We have a problem.”
“Call Dorrie in here,” Luke advised.
Rainey turned, puzzled.
Mr. O’Mara seemed surprised at the request, as well. Miss Patterson rolled her eyes. “That’s a big help.”
“It could be.” Luke’s tight tone said Miss Patterson was skating on thin ice. His grim expression said he found the teacher’s behavior unacceptable. “Dorrie’s got a knack for dealing with these two, as odd as that might seem. Shall I get her?” he asked Mr. O’Mara.
The principal turned on his walkie-talkie. “I’ll have her sent right over.”
Moments later, Dorrie skipped into the room, one pigtail dangled low, half undone. The other still hung neatly in place with a perky purple ribbon. She looked happy, spunky and delightfully normal. “Mommy! Luke! What are you doing here?”
Luke cut straight to the chase. “Sonya and Aiden have locked themselves in this closet. Can you get them to come out, please?”
“Well, yeah. Sure.” She bounced across the room, tapped on the door twice, paused, then tapped twice again.
“Dorrie!”
“Dorrie, you’re here!”
Two little voices chimed her name in unison.
Luke met the principal’s curious glance. “That’s the secret knock they use in their tree house at my place.”
“Ah.”
“Why are you guys in the closet?” Dorrie asked.
Not one of the adults had asked the kids why they’d locked themselves in there.
“Sonya was sad,” Aiden explained.
Oh... Rainey’s heart melted a little, thinking of how kind Luke’s son must be.
“So she hid in the closet?” Dorrie’s tone said that was kind of a dumb thing to do.
“No.” Sonya’s voice this time. “I went to a thinking place, like we do at Luke’s. In the tree house. And Aiden said he wanted to think, too.”
“Well, are you done?” Dorrie’s voice hovered near impatience. “Because I’ve got things to do and if you’re done thinking, then get out of there. Okay?”
“All right.”
“Okay.”
The adults waited, almost not breathing, watching for the handle to turn. Listening for the lock to disengage.
Click.