Free Cold River by Liz Adair Page A

forty. His sandy, shoulder-length hair was cut in a casually careless way, and his short beard, mustache, and dark eyes lent him a rustic air. A Los Angelino trying to look like a Tarheel . She had read his bio online and found he had a degree in marketing from UCLA. He was a major player in the chainsaw sculpturing subculture, and his pieces could be found in galleries from Alaska to Mexico.
    “Pull up a stool,” Wesley said. It sounded more like an order than an invitation.
    Feeling her hackles rise, Mandy paused a moment to count inwardly to ten before she sat.
    “What can I do for you?” Wesley’s tone was curt, but his mouth curled into a small smile as his eyes met hers, and that softened the question somewhat. Mandy noticed he had a dusting of sawdust on his face and in his beard.
    “I didn’t come by to ask you to do anything,” Mandy said. “You’re a member of the school board. You hired me. I’ve come to— to pay my respects, you might say. To report for duty.”
    “Whoa, there, Nellie! I didn’t hire you. You’re not going to pin that on me.”
    Taken aback by the vehemence of his denial, Mandy stared. “I was assured that the board unanimously approved my contract.”
    “The board was unanimously railroaded by Vince Lafitte. That’s the only unanimous thing about the whole sorry mess.”
    Mandy frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I understand.”
    “It doesn’t matter. The only thing you need to understand is that, no matter who has the title, Grange Timberlain is superintendent. You may have the office and the salary, but nothing has changed. Grange is still in charge.”
    “And he has the files,” Mandy murmured.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch what you said.”
    “Nothing.” Mandy stood. “Thank you for being so frank, Mr. Gallant. I’ll be equally frank. I came here to do a job, and I intend to do it to the best of my ability.”
    Wesley’s voice softened. “Does that mean you want to do what’s best for the students?”
    “Yes, certainly.”
    “Then throw your lot in with Grange. There’s not a person in the district better qualified to lead.”
    “Oh? And what makes him so qualified?”
    Wesley counted the points on the fingers of one hand. “He’s a Tarheel. He understands the people of this area. He’s dealt with adversity in his life and risen above it— way above it. And in doing so, he’s found the key to involving students in something bigger than they are. They look up to him, and—”
    “—and he doesn’t have the degree. Period. Paragraph. I didn’t make the rules, Mr. Gallant. I didn’t depose Mr. Timberlain, and neither did Mr. Lafitte. He deposed himself when he made no move to comply with the state code.”
    “That attitude will win you no friends.”
    Mandy’s chin came up. “I didn’t come here to make friends.”
    “It’s a lonely place without them.”
    “I don’t wish to quarrel with you. Any quarrel that we have can only hurt the district and the students. Can we continue this discussion another day, after I have found my feet?”
    “There is no point. You won’t change my mind, and I don’t imagine I can change yours. You were brought here under false pretenses, and I’m sorry for it. You can blame Vince for that, since he made arrangements for the hire.”
    “It looks to me as if the people of Limestone are blaming Vince for bringing the district into compliance with state mandates. They’re there for a reason, and it has to do with excellence in education.” She took her keys out of her purse. “I think Vince Lafitte is very forward-thinking, and I’m surprised that you, as an educated man, aren’t more supportive.” Mandy headed toward the door but paused as she passed the eagle sculpture. Turning back, she asked, “Could it be a calculated business decision to side with the old-timers? I realize you sell your sculptures elsewhere, but who supplies your raw material?”
    To Mandy’s surprise, Wesley threw back his