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“Beau’s a good kid,” Miss Simms said, directing her attention back to Sam.
“I know. I want to make sure he stays that way.”
“You’d be surprised how many kids cheat. Even the good ones.”
Frustration welled up inside Sam. “It’s not acceptable.”
“No,” she agreed mildly. “It’s not. But it’s not the end of the world. He got caught. I’m certain he’ll have consequences at home.” No doubt. “Right now we need to see that he understands math.”
Okay, was she politely telling him to get a grip? Quite possibly. But she wasn’t in charge of seeing that her dead brother’s children got off on the right foot in life.
“Any clues how to do that?”
“Small steps. Beau has trouble focusing, and when he gets frustrated he shuts down.” Miss Simms craned her neck to see if the hall outside the office was clear, then continued speaking in a tone just above a whisper. “Coach Gerard has tried to help him, since he’s also a math teacher, but frankly, he assumes too much understanding. Beau needs to be taken slowly from step one when he encounters a new concept. To be reminded of what he’s learned before and told how to apply it. Some kids make an instant leap. Others need review.”
“Does Beau have a learning disability?”
“He has a different learning pattern. What works for the majority of kids doesn’t work so well for him. He can come in during the mornings and I’ll help him.”
“He hasn’t been doing that?” Sam asked. Beau was supposed to be.
The math teacher gave Sam a weary smile. “He usually comes by on the morning of the test, panicked.”
Another topic Sam needed to address with his nephew. He felt stupid for not already being aware.
“I ordered a book online,” he said. “I’ll try to help him more.”
“Feel free to call on me.”
Sam forced a smile. “Thank you. I appreciate the offer.” It would have been great if Miss Simms had known of a tutor, but all she could recommend were peer tutors. Sam didn’t believe another kid was up to the job of hammering math into Beau’s head when adults couldn’t get the job done.
He left the office and stepped into the milling swarms of kids in the hall. He caught sight of Beau standing next to a locker, talking to Marisa Brown, the perkiest of perky cheerleaders, and resisted the urge to push his way through the crowd and tell him he needed to focus on school, not women.
Instead Sam continued to follow a stream of kids until he got to the exit. He’d fight that battle, along with several others, tonight. Right now he wanted to get his first call—the Barton ranch—over and done with.
JODIE GOT UP EARLY and checked the bull—thankfully he wasn’t belly up—then sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and staring out the picture window at the snowy fields with the pastel-blue mountains behind them.
She was grateful Sam had come the night before, grateful that he was doing what he could … but this was her father’s prize bull. She had to do everything she could, so she’d put in another call to Eriksson’s office, hoping to leave a message on voice mail for a call back. Instead she got the same recording as the time she’d called for advice about Bronson. Dr. Eriksson was out of the office for yet another week.
What kind of vet took two-week vacations? Didn’t he realize that people needed him? Now?
“Lucas said Sam is coming back this morning,” Margarite said as she sat down on the other side of the table with a crossword puzzle book and a cup of tea.
“Yes.”
“Thank goodness. I don’t want your dad to blame Lucas if the bull dies.” She spoke offhandedly, opening the book and finding where she’d left off, but her words made Jodie’s temples throb.
“The bull isn’t going to die.”
“All the same …” Margarite said in an unconvinced tone.
My father won’t blame Lucas. He’s more reasonable than that.
Jodie looked back out the window, the words unspoken. Margarite was no one’s fool. She lived on the ranch full-time and saw things Jodie didn’t. But that didn’t mean she was interpreting them correctly.
“Lucas hasn’t been here long enough to be responsible,” Jodie finally said. “I’ll make sure my dad knows the truth. And since Lucas did me a favor and came back, I’ll do my best to see that Dad keeps him on … if he wants to stay, that is.” Granted, her father wasn’t a big believer in second chances, but he would listen to reason—especially economic reason. And if no other local person would work for him during the winter months, as both Mike and Margarite intimated, keeping Lucas made sense.
“Good luck,” the housekeeper said in a way that made Jodie feel oddly weary. Her dad had developed one heck of a rep with people who just didn’t get how he operated. People who didn’t see how much he had accomplished in life through strength of character and his no-excuses attitude. “Is Sam going to be on call if Lucas needs help when the heifers calve?”
“Is he likely to need help?” Jodie certainly hoped not. She’d been so damned fortunate to get Sam to come out here as many times as she had. It seemed unlikely that her luck would hold.
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