this chapter.”
She crossed the room and removed the e-reader from his hand. “You’ve never been this rude before.”
“What does it matter if I say hi to him?” Ryan swung his legs off the bed and sat up. “He doesn’t like me.”
“Why would you think that?”
“He hardly talked to me at the barbecue.”
“You were the one who walked off when he built the doghouse.”
“He didn’t want my help.”
“Did Will tell you that?”
“No, but I know he was angry, because I didn’t want to use the nail gun.”
“We’ll discuss your attitude when I get home tonight.” She returned to the carport and said, “I’m afraid Ryan’s not feeling well.”
Will’s stare burned a hole through her dress. “You don’t have to lie. He doesn’t want to see me, does he?”
Aware of her parents watching through the window, she said, “Let’s talk about this on the way to wherever it is we’re going today.” She hopped into the front seat and less than a minute later, Will turned the truck onto the highway and headed south away from Stagecoach.
* * *
“S O ... WHERE ARE WE GOING ?”
Will expelled a frustrated breath, then relaxed his grip on the wheel. “I thought we’d drive toward Ajo.” He breathed in the sweet scent of Marsha’s perfume. The last female who’d sat this close to him had been Isi when he’d taken her on a date as a favor to Conway. The physical attraction hadn’t been there between them, but they’d enjoyed talking to each other and as a result had become friends. He was comfortable with Isi, because he felt her equal—he couldn’t say the same for Marsha.
“There’s a restaurant called the Devil’s Plateau that serves great steaks,” he said. “It’s built at the top of a mesa near Ajo. The panoramic view of the desert is pretty impressive.”
“Sounds nice.”
He hoped to impress her with the restaurant—he’d worn his newest pair of jeans and dress boots. He assumed Marsha was used to upscale eateries in California, whereas he preferred the food found in desert dives along the highway.
He squirmed in his seat, wracking his brain for a conversation starter. Funny how he hadn’t been the least bit nervous when he’d coaxed a much younger Marsha into the backseat of his grandfather’s pickup.
In an effort to redirect his thoughts he asked, “What do you like most about teaching?”
“The kids, of course.” She shifted toward him. “It amazes me how smart my students are.”
“How many science classes do you teach a day?”
“Four, and one is an AP course.”
At the risk of sounding stupid, he asked, “What does AP stand for?”
“Advanced placement. The classes are college level and if the student’s passing score is high enough on the comprehensive exam at the end of the semester, then they earn college credit for the course.” She waved a hand in the air. “There’s a big push by parents for schools to offer more AP courses, because it saves on tuition costs down the road. I’ve seen kids accumulate enough AP credits to begin college as sophomores instead of freshmen.”
“Is Ryan taking any AP courses?”
“Next year, he’ll be in two classes.”
“Which ones?”
“Biology and English.”
When Will had been a sophomore, all he’d thought about was girls. “Are you sure it’s smart to push him so hard?”
She stiffened. “I’m not pushing him. I’m restraining him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had Ryan tested a couple of years ago.”
“Tested for what?”
“His IQ.”
With Marsha for a mother, Will assumed his son would be bright. “How smart is he?”
“His IQ score two years ago was 144.”
“Is that high enough to be considered a genius?”
“Not quite, but it’s close.”
Will’s stomach bottomed out. No wonder Ryan had snubbed his nose at building a doghouse. If Will had suggested they construct a nuclear generator, Ryan would have been over-the-moon excited.
“Can I ask you a personal
She crossed the room and removed the e-reader from his hand. “You’ve never been this rude before.”
“What does it matter if I say hi to him?” Ryan swung his legs off the bed and sat up. “He doesn’t like me.”
“Why would you think that?”
“He hardly talked to me at the barbecue.”
“You were the one who walked off when he built the doghouse.”
“He didn’t want my help.”
“Did Will tell you that?”
“No, but I know he was angry, because I didn’t want to use the nail gun.”
“We’ll discuss your attitude when I get home tonight.” She returned to the carport and said, “I’m afraid Ryan’s not feeling well.”
Will’s stare burned a hole through her dress. “You don’t have to lie. He doesn’t want to see me, does he?”
Aware of her parents watching through the window, she said, “Let’s talk about this on the way to wherever it is we’re going today.” She hopped into the front seat and less than a minute later, Will turned the truck onto the highway and headed south away from Stagecoach.
* * *
“S O ... WHERE ARE WE GOING ?”
Will expelled a frustrated breath, then relaxed his grip on the wheel. “I thought we’d drive toward Ajo.” He breathed in the sweet scent of Marsha’s perfume. The last female who’d sat this close to him had been Isi when he’d taken her on a date as a favor to Conway. The physical attraction hadn’t been there between them, but they’d enjoyed talking to each other and as a result had become friends. He was comfortable with Isi, because he felt her equal—he couldn’t say the same for Marsha.
“There’s a restaurant called the Devil’s Plateau that serves great steaks,” he said. “It’s built at the top of a mesa near Ajo. The panoramic view of the desert is pretty impressive.”
“Sounds nice.”
He hoped to impress her with the restaurant—he’d worn his newest pair of jeans and dress boots. He assumed Marsha was used to upscale eateries in California, whereas he preferred the food found in desert dives along the highway.
He squirmed in his seat, wracking his brain for a conversation starter. Funny how he hadn’t been the least bit nervous when he’d coaxed a much younger Marsha into the backseat of his grandfather’s pickup.
In an effort to redirect his thoughts he asked, “What do you like most about teaching?”
“The kids, of course.” She shifted toward him. “It amazes me how smart my students are.”
“How many science classes do you teach a day?”
“Four, and one is an AP course.”
At the risk of sounding stupid, he asked, “What does AP stand for?”
“Advanced placement. The classes are college level and if the student’s passing score is high enough on the comprehensive exam at the end of the semester, then they earn college credit for the course.” She waved a hand in the air. “There’s a big push by parents for schools to offer more AP courses, because it saves on tuition costs down the road. I’ve seen kids accumulate enough AP credits to begin college as sophomores instead of freshmen.”
“Is Ryan taking any AP courses?”
“Next year, he’ll be in two classes.”
“Which ones?”
“Biology and English.”
When Will had been a sophomore, all he’d thought about was girls. “Are you sure it’s smart to push him so hard?”
She stiffened. “I’m not pushing him. I’m restraining him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had Ryan tested a couple of years ago.”
“Tested for what?”
“His IQ.”
With Marsha for a mother, Will assumed his son would be bright. “How smart is he?”
“His IQ score two years ago was 144.”
“Is that high enough to be considered a genius?”
“Not quite, but it’s close.”
Will’s stomach bottomed out. No wonder Ryan had snubbed his nose at building a doghouse. If Will had suggested they construct a nuclear generator, Ryan would have been over-the-moon excited.
“Can I ask you a personal
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