LITMIR.BIZ

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on about finding the lowest common denominator. His mouth quirked up at the corners of its own accord at her spunky head bob, and he had to fake a sneeze in order to keep from laughing out loud.

      “You’re smiling awfully hard for a man who is five weeks behind the rest of the class, Mr. Parsons.” Ms. Thorn’s voice was soft, and she leaned closer to him, suddenly at his side. She smelled like citrus, like lemon and lime mixed together. Relishing the crisp scent in a room full of mostly unwashed bodies, he looked up into her stormy gray eyes. A row of freckles at the top of the bridge of her nose softened her hard glare, and he physically had to fight a smirk in response to her childlike cuteness.

      One thing was quite certain. She wasn’t going to erase his smile standing this close to him.

      An intriguing contradiction, her piercing eyes and gentle face tempted Myles to turn this exchange into a flirtation. Shoving those thoughts away, he focused on the mission, knowing he had to keep his mind alert for any signs she might be in danger.

      

      Finally, the class ended, and Kenzie took a moment to let her head rest on her desk, trying to clear her mind from the terrible day she’d just had. The day started with Cory Johns, one of her favorite students, cheating on his third and final try at the GED exam, forcing her to fail him. Any hope for a change in his life after his release went in the trash with his exam.

      The next class brought her new student, Myles Parsons, whose cocky smirk and arrogance made her bristle every time she looked in his direction. He raised his hand to answer almost every question she asked, and even worse, he was always right!

      Eyes closed and forehead still leaning on her arm draped over the papers littering her desk, Kenzie took the opportunity to pray for her students.

      God, please give me the words to reach these men. To give them some hope and skills for when they are released. I pray for the families that are eagerly waiting for their return. And, Lord, I pray specifically for Cory Johns. I pray that he will find another way to earn his GED and support his family. And I ask that You give me a special dose of patience for my new student. Please help his attitude to change toward me and this class. Thank You for Your many good gifts. In Your name, Amen.

      Just as she dragged her head from its resting spot, a noise in the doorway caught her attention. A handsome man with sleek silver hair filled the entire doorway.

      “Mac!” she cried, jumping up from her seat and throwing herself into the man’s waiting embrace. She clung tightly to him as he almost squeezed the breath out of her. “What are you doing here? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

      “You know how it is.” He chuckled, a smile spreading over his face. “Sometimes the governor’s schedule changes.” He gave her another quick squeeze before stepping back to really look at her.

      His gray eyes, so much like her own, assessed her carefully and he frowned. “You look tired. Is this position too much for you?”

      Kenzie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He said the same thing every time he saw her. “I’ve been here for two years. I’m doing okay.”

      “Are you taking care of yourself?”

      “Of course.” She looped her arm through Mac’s and smiled into his loving face. “I’ve missed you, Grandpa.” She rarely called Mac “Grandpa,” and since he was elected governor nearly six years before, she could count on one hand the number of times she had done so. But today she needed to be reminded that she was loved by her father’s father, the man who had loved her as a daughter, ever since she lost her parents all those years ago.

      Mac squeezed her tightly to his side and kissed the top of her head. “Sweet pea, you have no idea how much we miss you in Salem. I can pull some strings to get you a position at a school there. You’d make a wonderful kindergarten teacher. This place is rough. It’s not good for you.”

      “It’s okay. I’m okay. They need me, and to tell you the truth, I think I need them, too.” Kenzie smiled and snuggled a little closer to his side. Mac had always been able to right the wrongs in her life, protect her from the boogeyman, dry her tears. He was larger than life when she was a child, and his presence today almost wiped away thoughts of concern over her new student.

      She looked around Mac’s arm and spotted his usual entourage. “Harry. Buzz.” She nodded at each of the men standing just inside the doorway. Harry was built like a bulldozer and Buzz like a long-distance runner. They were part of the best security detail in the state, and Kenzie had grown fond of them through the years, as they protected Mac. “Candace.” She acknowledged Mac’s personal aide, a tall blonde standing beside Buzz.

      Candace looked up from the notes in her daily planner. “Good afternoon, Kenzie.” She offered a brief smile, then returned to keeping Mac on schedule.

      “Well, you’d best show me around your classroom.” Mac’s voice was gruff, but held a grin.

      “Sure. There’s not much to show really. We have tables where the students sit. Our bookshelf is pretty meager, but the prison library has a good selection that I sometimes assign for additional reading, for those that need the practice to prepare for the exam. And of course, my desk.”

      As Kenzie pointed out the tables, sparse bookshelves and her own desk, Mac walked around the room, glancing at the mathematic posters, the only decoration on the gray walls. He glanced twice at a particularly colorful formula, hand-drawn, on a large white poster board, but he didn’t comment.

      “How’s the program?” he finally said.

      “It’s wonderful. Since you authorized this pilot program two years ago, we’ve had more than two hundred inmates earn GEDs. We have almost a two-thirds pass rate. You don’t have to worry about us right now. But maybe—”

      “You’re a good kid, Mackenzie Thorn.” He cut her off before she could confess that she was hoping the state legislature might be able to allocate more funds. Distracted by his use of her full name, she forgot what she was going to say. No one called her or Mac by their shared first name. After complications with their first and only pregnancy, Kenzie’s parents had decided to pass the family name down through their daughter, even if it was a man’s name. She’d worn it proudly, always going by Kenzie to avoid confusion.

      Now she smiled wider in response to Mac’s compliment. Could he tell how much she loved teaching these men? Could he read in her eyes how much it broke her heart when they chose to give up, rather than fight for the skills that could lead to a new life?

      A noise in the doorway made her turn. JB Ryker, the prison superintendent and an old friend of Mac’s, limped into the classroom, nudging Harry and Buzz aside. His knee had been injured during the Vietnam War, and when it rained he often needed the aid of a cane to manage the slick cement halls of the prison.

      “Macky, you ol’ dog.” Kenzie cringed inwardly. She always hated it when JB called her grandfather “Macky.” He was the only one who could get away with it, and Mac never seemed to mind. But she still hated it.

      She also hated the way his lip curled up, like a back-alley used-car salesman. Something about him always made her skin crawl.

      “Why the early trip?” JB said.

      Shaking hands with his old friend, Mac said, “I have a meeting tomorrow at the capital that couldn’t be rescheduled.”

      “Must be tough being the governor.”

      Mac just grinned. He’d taught Kenzie to hold her tongue in situations like this, where there was no right answer. If only she could do as he taught.

      “It’s certainly not easy, Superintendent,” she retorted. A sharp glance from Mac made her bite her tongue to keep from saying anything else.

      JB ignored her comment. “What do you think of the place? I’m sure Kenzie has kept you up-to-date on the success of the program.”

      “Yes, she was just filling me in. It seems to be working well. If the statistics remain this high,

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