Memories of You. Margot DaltonЧитать онлайн книгу.
and steady, not at all threatening.
Camilla hefted an armload of books and started for the door. “Why don’t you describe something at your home?”
“My home is a ranch on the dry prairie.” Jon fell into step beside her. “A lot of people wouldn’t think there was anything beautiful about it.”
His sleeve brushed against her arm, and she could smell the pleasant masculine scent of clean skin and shaving lotion. She closed her eyes briefly, struggling to maintain her composure. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Mr. Campbell.”
“It sure is.” She could feel him looking down at her, but she was afraid to meet his eyes again. “I understand you’ve met my kids,” he added.
“Yes, I have. All three of them.” She paused by the door. “The twins are helping me with some research I’m doing into the development of reading ability. And Steven is in my freshman English class.”
“Actually, I have four kids,” he said with a smile. “The only one you haven’t met is Vanessa. She’s sixteen, in twelfth grade.”
“Is she as bright as Steven and the twins?”
“I think so.” His smile faded. “I wasn’t aware Steve was in your English class. He doesn’t seem to tell me things anymore.”
Camilla was urgently tempted to ask the man some questions. She wanted to know a lot more about that handsome, unhappy boy who looked so much like his father. And the shy, brilliant twins, and their mysteriously absent mother…
Enrique Valeros passed them with a timid nod, stumbling a little as he went into the hallway. He carried a huge pile of library books, and his face was pale with fatigue. Camilla and Jon watched in silence as the dark-haired boy moved down the corridor with an unsteady gait.
“That poor kid always looks like he’s dead on his feet,” Jon observed. “His hands were shaking again today. I wonder if he’s sick, or taking drugs or something.”
Camilla frowned. “No, I don’t think it’s drugs,” she said at last. “His written work is beautiful, very concise and disciplined. It’s particularly impressive for somebody for whom English is a second language. The students who abuse drugs tend to be rambling and disconnected, although,” she added dryly, “they always believe that their work is wonderfully eloquent.”
“Then why do you think Enrique’s so tired all the time?”
“I don’t know.”
She felt a treacherous urge to move closer to Jon Campbell, to nestle against the man and feel his arms around her. It was surprisingly pleasant to stand here with him like this, talking and hearing his voice in reply.
Abruptly the years fell away and she was seventeen again, overcome with a stormy passion she’d never expected to feel….
“Goodbye, Mr. Campbell,” she said hastily, starting down the hallway toward the administrative wing. “Have a pleasant weekend.”
“HI, GRETCHEN.” Camilla stopped at the bursar’s office and dropped her books onto the counter with a sigh. “I wonder if you can tell me something about one of my students.”
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