The Widower's Second Chance

She took a deep breath and turned the corner, but then stopped dead in her tracks. Caleb sat in one of the two chairs situated in front of the principal’s desk. What was he doing there? Caleb had changed out of the shirt she’d spilled coffee on. Now he wore a deep maroon T-shirt that complemented his dark complexion, trim beard and mocha-colored hair. He looked more approachable, like that handyman from the other day.

His eyes narrowed a fraction in her direction.

Scratch approachable. He looked downright stern. Like a man about to give a kid detention for daring to text during class.

A surge of ice ran through Paige’s veins as a realization hit her. Had Caleb told Timmons about her breakdown yesterday? She had no other connection to him, save being a teacher. So why would they both be called to the principal’s office? For all she knew Caleb could be in cahoots with Amy, the woman who wanted Paige’s position. Really, why else would he be here? English and science were on different ends of the spectrum.... They didn’t even teach the same grade. It had to be another reason.

Suppose he told Principal Timmons he saw her sobbing over her breakup, what would that mean? She couldn’t lose her job for that sort of thing. Maybe get ordered to see the school counselor, but not lose her position. She couldn’t. Not after upending her life to be here. After everything her father had done for him, how could Timmons listen to Caleb over her?

Her nails bit into her palms.

Why had she even trusted that he wouldn’t tell? She knew better. If the past couple of years had taught her one thing it was that men lied. Dad. Bryan. Tommy. And Jay. All men.

It didn’t matter.

She blinked back tears and ground her teeth together to keep from saying something she’d regret.

Principal Timmons dropped down into his swivel chair. “Go ahead and sit down, Paige. Caleb doesn’t bite all that often.” He chuckled over his own joke.

Paige set her bags on the ground and pressed her hands together. “I can explain.”

Caleb scratched his chin. “I sure hope so, because I’d like to know what I did to get called to the principal’s office so early in the year. Last year, when I helped with the senior prank, I understood, but—”

“Wait.” She glanced back and forth between the two men, her gaze finally landing on Caleb. “You don’t know why we’re here?”

“No. Do you?”

“Then you didn’t...?” He didn’t tell. Her hands relaxed at her sides. The muscles in her shoulders eased. She crossed the room and took the chair beside Caleb.

Timmons rested his forearms on his desk. He looked from Caleb to Paige, then back to Caleb...then grinned and winked at Paige. “You both know that aside from my position at the school, I’m also the head of the board at Sarah’s Home.”

Paige nodded, but in her peripheral vision she caught Caleb brace his hands on the armrest of his chair and sit up a little straighter.

Principal Timmons continued, “So I’m speaking to you both from that capacity and not as your boss. In the past month—”

Caleb cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt, but if this is about Sarah’s Home, why is Paige here?”

Timmons let out a long breath. “Because Paige is going to start working alongside you at Sarah’s Home.”

Her head jerked up. Alongside? As in, Caleb helped at the nonprofit, too?

“No.” Caleb’s knuckles went white. “No women from Goose Harbor. Not anymore. That’s my rule. It’s not negotiable. You know that.”

His rule? Who was he to make a statement like that? Unless he was on the board, it didn’t matter what he thought or said. Wait—was Caleb a board member?

She held her breath to keep from saying something she shouldn’t.

First her father, then with Bryan—why did men think they could lay down some law that all the women in their lives had to follow? No one was going to control her again. No way. Not anymore. Forget watching her words.

Paige turned in her chair to face Caleb. “Well, great. I’m not from Goose Harbor so that works out just fine.”

Caleb worked his jaw back and forth. “Same difference.”

Timmons leaned forward in his chair. “Unfortunately, that’s not the way Sarah set things up, and you of all people know that. The board holds power for all decisions. Especially when it comes to accepting volunteers.”

“I get a say. Sarah’s Home wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for my wife.” Caleb popped to his feet.

Wife? Paige tried to keep up with their conversation. Caleb was married? She glanced at his hand. No ring. But not all guys wore one.

Timmons lifted his hands and made a motion for Caleb to take his seat again. “Settle down, son. That’s why I called you both in. I didn’t want to spring anything on you. We need to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Caleb shook his head. His eyes fixed on Timmons. Clearly, Paige wasn’t a part of the conversation any longer. “Can’t you see how dangerous that would be? You were there at the meeting with the police chief. Crime against women like Paige has gone up in Brookside. Even more in the last two years. The gangs are looking for people like her. And I’m taking a guess that she’s not certified in self-defense. It’s not safe. End of discussion.” He crossed the room and yanked the door open.

“Caleb,” Timmons called after him.

But Caleb walked out the door. It slammed against the frame.

Paige ran the tips of her fingers back and forth over the cheap, woven fabric on the armrest. Her heart pounded, clattering against her rib cage like a runaway train. She tried to control her breathing. Settle down.

Now what? She ran her fingers over the hair ties on her wrist.

Sarah’s Home held a special place in her heart. A place no one—not even grumpy Caleb Beck—could take away.

Timmons sighed, bringing Paige back into the present conversation. “Don’t worry. Caleb will come around.”

“I hope so.” Paige reached for her bags. “He...he can’t keep me out, can he?”

“No. Like I said, the board holds the power.”

She relaxed a bit. “What was it about Sarah’s Home you wanted to see me about?”

“I was going to share that in the past month we’ve experienced an influx of teen girls coming to Sarah’s Home. Caleb already knows that, but I planned to build a case so he would understand how important it is for you to join the team. This was all. I wanted Caleb and you to meet before you showed up at Sarah’s Home. Offer him a chance to process. It just wouldn’t have been fair to spring this on him in front of other people. You saw how he reacted. Unfortunately, we’ve let him have more control over decisions at Sarah’s Home than we should have. After Sarah died, I guess the board didn’t have the heart to say no to Caleb.”

Paige looked down at the ground, studying the purple-specked carpeting. “So he was married to Sarah—the founder?” She’d read about Sarah’s death in the newsletter a few years ago. But the section had been brief. No details. Just that the brave young woman had been killed while doing the thing she loved. A picture. A date for the funeral. No more information was ever released.

“Yes.”

“And she died?”

Timmons frowned. “I’m afraid so. The whole town of Goose Harbor loved Sarah. A woman like her is impossible to replace.”

Paige’s stomach corkscrewed. “That’s so sad.”

Now Caleb’s sudden gloom made sense. He seemed too young to be a widower. She’d never lost anyone close—well, not to death at least—so she couldn’t identify with him, but her heart ached for him all the same. Behind his deep mocha eyes, Caleb hid pain—the loss of an irreplaceable woman. She’d remember that next time they talked.

“Very sad indeed, but the board still shouldn’t have let him have his way in everything. I’m warning you from the beginning, he may have a very rough time with this transition. Having you at Sarah’s Home will be hard on him. Don’t hear me wrong. Caleb’s a good man, and he does what he thinks is best—safest—for everyone.” The principal straightened a pile on his desk. “Now here’s a valid question. Are you afraid to be in Brookside after what he said?”

“No disrespect to Caleb, but I taught gang members in my classes in Chicago.” Paige shrugged. “It’s something you get used to. As weird as that sounds. We evacuated the school at least once a month for a bomb threat or something along those lines. It wasn’t so fun when you had to rush out of the school in the middle of winter, but we managed.”