Carolina Home by Virginia Kantra Page B

dad.
    Wordlessly, she slid from her chair.
    Luke cleared his throat. “Right. You can ride shotgun with me.”
    “I’m not sitting in back,” Matt said like he was Josh’s age.
    Luke grinned at him, and something inside Taylor loosened. “This was your idea, bro.”
    “You yahoos can ride together,” Tom growled. “Your mother’s in front with me.”
    So that’s how they drove to the airport, with Taylor squashed into the backseat between her…between Luke and Uncle Matt and Tess turning around every few minutes with a wink or a pat or a smile.
    She was surrounded by Fletchers.
    Their legs stuck out on either side of her like the arms of some really big chair, their shoulders warm and close, but for once she didn’t feel trapped. The backseat was wide and comfortable, the vibration of the car soothing. Taylor clutched the field cap in her lap and let her head tip back, her shoulders relaxing against the smooth leather as their voices washed over her.

Six
     
    M ATT RUMBLED INTO the school parking lot on his Harley like Stallone in
The Lords of Flatbush
.
    Not exactly the image of a responsible guardian for a ten-year-old girl.
    But he had no choice. He was already on the boat, prepping for an afternoon run, when the call came in on his cell phone.
    “Matt Fletcher?”
    He set down the oil, juggled the phone. “Yeah.”
    “This is Karen Nelson.”
    He searched his mind. There were over a dozen Nelsons on the island, descended, they claimed, from one of Blackbeard’s crew. Like having a murdering pirate in the family tree was something to be proud of. Didn’t Dick Nelson have an older sister named Karen?
    “Vice principal for the primary grades at Dare Island School,” she added smoothly. “I’m calling about your niece Taylor.”
    The back of Matt’s neck tightened. “Is she sick? Hurt?”
    “Taylor is fine. However, it is our policy to notify the parent or guardian when we have to remove a student temporarily from the classroom. I’m afraid Taylor became belligerent with her teacher this morning.”
    He cupped the phone, trying to cut the interference from the wind. “What do you mean, belligerent? The kid never opens her mouth.”
    “Apparently she found her voice today,” Nelson said dryly. “Perhaps it would be best if I spoke with Taylor’s grandmother. Is Tess at home?”
    “She’s on the mainland.” Picking up supplies for the weekend. And Tom was God knew where with the truck, hunting a replacement part for the inn’s generator.
    Which left Matt.
If anything happens, I need to know you’ll be here.
    He eased the hatch into place, covering the twin diesels. “What do you need?”
    “We’ll be sending home a Problem Report with Taylor. The next step is a parent meeting. Taylor needs to understand what constitutes appropriate dress and language at this school.”
    The Nelsons always were tight asses. After two hundred years, the family had gone respectable.
    Matt thought of several possible responses, none of which could be considered appropriate language.
    “You want a meeting, I’m there.” He wiped his hands on an engine rag. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
    It was closer to twenty by the time he parked the bike and headed up the stairs. The administration offices occupied the original school building between the new elementary wing and the middle and high school. Since Matt’s school days, an attempt had been made to update the building with new lights and new carpet. But the scarred woodworkwas the same, and the smell, a compound of bubble gum, dust, and sneakers.
    It took him back. Simpler times. Good times, mostly. Not that he was in any mood to feel nostalgic.
    This wasn’t his first trip to the school since he’d graduated. He’d made it to all of Josh’s open houses, to most of his basketball games. But Tess was the one who usually handled calls during the day. Matt couldn’t turn a charter trip around every time Josh threw up or got into a fight on the