LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter One

      His footsteps echoing, Ryan Savage walked the first grader from the cafeteria toward the media center. The dismissal bell had released the rest of the students to buses and to car pool thirty minutes ago.

      Oscar’s hand slipped into Ryan’s. “Mister Sabbage?” The child barely spoke above a whisper.

      Biting back a smile, Ryan paused in the school corridor. “What is it, Oscar? Are you still hungry?”

      Eligible students enrolled in the after-school tutoring program received a healthy snack. For some of them, it was the only food they’d receive until returning to school the next morning for a nutritious breakfast.

      Small for his age, the little boy shook his head. “I jus’ wonnered if the new teacher in our group was as nice as Miz Thompson. I’m gonna miss her.”

      There was something endearing about the child, which tugged at Ryan’s heart. “Perhaps Mrs. Thompson will return to school after she has her baby. But I think you’ll like the teacher who is taking her place.”

      “What’s her name?”

      “Mrs. Reyes is an old friend of mine.” Ryan smiled. “In fact, we became best friends when we were in first grade like you.”

      This was Anna’s first day of teaching at the small elementary school outside Kiptohanock, Virginia, where they’d grown up. He was looking forward to seeing her again, but an unexpected nervousness opened in the pit of his stomach. Which was ridiculous. He wasn’t the gangly teenager who once had feelings for Anna Pruitt.

      Oscar’s eyes widened. “You were in first grade like me?”

      Ryan rolled his tongue in his cheek. “Hard to believe, I know. But true.”

      Oscar shook his head as if he wasn’t quite sure he should believe Ryan. “Is she pwetty?”

      Ryan pushed his glasses farther along the bridge of his nose. “I think so. You’ll have to tell me what you think.”

      Oscar nodded. “We better go see.”

      Anna was probably already inside the media center waiting with the other two students who would make up their group in the after-school enrichment program.

      Pressing through the doors, Ryan steered Oscar past other clumps of students and supervising adults. The intervention teams were composed of teachers, professional counselors and trained community volunteers.

      Due to a poor attendance record, Oscar was falling behind his classmates. His classroom teacher also reported that when Oscar managed to get to school, he often fell asleep. A six-year-old shouldn’t be so tired. Ryan needed to make a home visit to talk with Oscar’s mother.

      Weaving past the computer lab and waist-high bookcases, Ryan waved to other kids he’d come to know during his short career as a fifth-grade teacher. Students entered the program due to behavioral issues and low academic performance in math or language. The goal was to help kids rise above difficult home circumstances and acquire the academic and lifestyle skills to achieve success far beyond their current situations.

      Sighting Anna’s dark hair at one of the tables, he herded Oscar forward. But the knot of apprehension in Ryan’s gut tightened.

      Until they went off-Shore to college and lost touch, they’d been best friends. While he’d pursued a research career, she eventually married someone else. A marine.

      Now as a young military widow, Anna had just returned home. Hired by the school board to finish the term for a kindergarten teacher on maternity leave till after Christmas. And only this week, Principal Carden asked Ryan to head an additional support team for three newly identified at-risk kids.

      On this late November afternoon, the light spilled milky sunshine through the blinds on the window and across the table where Anna and a little girl hunkered over a picture book.

      Ryan stopped short, his hand on Oscar’s shoulder. His heart was in his throat—which as a scientist he knew to be an anatomical impossibility and yet at this moment it was proven true.

      Anna’s long hair lay gathered across one shoulder, secured by a clip. Beneath the quilted, white vest, she wore a red-and-black-striped flannel plaid shirt. Red—like Christmas, he remembered—was her favorite.

      Her finger skimmed underneath the line of words on the printed page. Her voice as soft and melodious as ever, as she occasionally prompted the little girl reading aloud.

      But he couldn’t catch a glimpse of Anna’s dark brown eyes. His pulse ratcheted. When she glanced up, would she be pleased or indifferent to see him?

      Oscar surged toward the cluster of chairs around the table. And when her eyes fastened onto Ryan, Anna gave a soft gasp.

      Ryan held himself motionless. “Hello, Anna.”

      The corners of her mouth curved. And a light appeared in those melted chocolate eyes of hers. Warming at the sight of him. “Ryan.”

      Oscar’s blue eyes darted from Ryan to Anna. “I thought his name was Mister Sabbage.”

      She laughed. Like the sound of tinkling wind chimes on a gentle ocean breeze.

      “It is Mr. Savage, Oscar.” He ruffled the hair on top of the little boy’s head, and Oscar smiled. A cautious smile. As if unused to affection. Or trust. Ryan could relate.

      Oscar plopped into a chair. “You’re right, Mister Sabbage. She is very pwetty.”

      She blushed.

      “Thank you, Oscar.” She extended her hand across the table. “I’m Mrs. Reyes. And I am so happy to meet you. I hope we’ll have fun together after school.”

      Oscar gave her fingers a quick squeeze. Then laying his head on the table, he closed his eyes.

      Ryan

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