Everlasting Love by Valerie Hansen Page A

it in the boy’s direction with a snap that purposely fell short of making a connection and roared “Out! Out!”
    Zac broke and ran, leaving James shaking his head and chuckling. What a kid. A real character. Smart, all right, but as unpredictable as Ozark weather.
    Thinking about the boys in his care, James turned on the shower the same way he always did, stripped and stepped under the spray. The first few moments were fairly comfortable. Then the water turned icy!
    Roaring, James dodged and groped for the hot water faucet. It was already on full force. Could those kids have used up all the hot water? Nothing like that had ever happened before. Shivering, he gave the taps a quick twist to end his torture and stared at the plumbing.
    Now that the water had ceased to flow he could hear the buzz and titter of young voices outside the bathroom door. He listened closely. It sounded like they were laughing. And Zac was loudest of all. Had they set him up? Rigged the shower? Probably, but how?
    His teeth chattering, James grabbed a clean towel and dried himself vigorously to bring back some warmth. Zac again. It figured. If that kid ever got himself squared away in society he’d probably do well in whatever career he chose. The trick was going to be in convincing him to choose lawful endeavors. Concepts of right and wrong were hard to explain to kids who had never been taught there was any difference.
    James snorted derisively, thinking about life in general and his boys in particular, as he dressed. Making the right choices could be hard for adults, too. He ought to know. He’d struggled with the same fundamental principles of good versus evil for a lot longer than he wanted to admit. If it hadn’t been for a teacher who had cared what happened to him and intervened on his behalf, there was no telling what he might have eventually done with his life.
    Continuing that example of caring and concern was a big component of his journey into a career of service. It was going to be a long time—if ever—before he’d feel he’d adequately repaid the enormous debt he owed Ralph Clarkson.
    And speaking of owing—if his suspicions proved true, he owed Zac plenty.
    Instead of putting on his shoes and socks, James walked barefoot and silent to the closed bathroom door. He listened. There was a soft scuffling and tittering on the opposite side of that door, further convincing him that his icy shower had been no accident.
    Slowly, cautiously, he closed his hand over the knob, then jerked the door open without a word.
    Bobby Joe and Mark tumbled into the room. The others managed to keep their balance and immediately scattered, squealing and shouting.
    James righted the two boys, released Mark and concentrated on Bobby Joe. “Where’s your brother?”
    The blond-headed child’s lower lip was quivering. “Over—over there,” he whispered, pointing toward the laundry room.
    â€œOkay. Now shush,” James said, placing his index finger across his lips. “Stay right here.”
    It wasn’t hard for James to approach the laundry area without being heard. He paused at the open door and peered past the washing machines. There was Zac, kneeling at the base of the water heater and fiddling with the valve on the line that fed the boys’ dorm.
    James paused long enough to stop grinning, then stepped into view with a gruff “Hey! What’re you doing?”
    The boy sprang to attention. “Um, nothin’. Nothin’ at all. I was just—”
    â€œSave it,” James countered. “I know what you did.”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œSure. You heard me holler and you wanted to make sure the water heater was working right, so you came in here to check on it for me. That’s right, isn’t it?”
    â€œUmmm…if you say so.”
    Half of James’s repressed smile returned in spite of his determination to play out the scene seriously.