Teacher Beware (A Grace Ellery Romantic Suspense Book 1) by Charlotte Raine Page A

the best thing that I could do with my life. Fight the good fight."
    Albert nods. "True."
    His mind seems far off—I assume that he's thinking about Vietnam in the 1960s when he was a soldier. I've seen enough people come back who are haunted by war, but I'm not afraid. All of my ghosts linger here, so there's nothing to fear on the other side of the world. Albert looks back at me.
    "The Army is the place to be," he says, but his voice sounds weary. He's skeptical of me becoming another casualty. "Why are you tellin' me this? You don't need my blessing or advice. You're almost a man. You know what you're doin'."
    "I'm telling you because I need to know you'll be okay without me. If the shop closes down because you can't make payments—"
    "Boy," Albert interrupts. "I am not a child. Do not treat me like one. I am not senile either. I can damn well take care of myself."
    "I know, Albert, but…I'm just worried. You served this country. You deserve to get anything you want, but that's not how it works out and I want to make sure that you'll be okay. I can stay if you don't think—"
    "Deacon," Albert growls. "I will kick you out of this house the day after graduation. Don't you go pityin' me. I am a soldier still, whether there is a weapon in my hands or not. At some point, the people around here will realize these foreigners are stealing from good Americans and they will come crawling back to my shop. They won't get shoddy work done by an American."
    "I'm sure they will." I stand up, and then turn to walk toward my room.
    "Deacon," Albert says, and I turn back to him. "You make me proud."
    I smile. "Thanks, Albert."
    I keep walking down the hall. I haven't made him proud. At least, not yet.
     
    ~~~~~
     

Deke, 2003 (11 Years Ago)
    THE AIRPORT IS SCATTERED with men, and a few women, in uniform. At six years old, everyone seems so tall and intimidating. I follow Dad, who is also in uniform. I stare at the pattern of green splashes and listen to the heavy sound of his work boots as they hit against the floor. My grandpa, Albert, and my brother, Tom, follow behind us. We all stop a few feet away from airport security.
    Dad turns to me. He holds out his hand. I shake it.
    "Be good for your grandfather," he says. "Make me proud to call you my son."
    "I will, Dad," I say. My eyes wander to a cookie shop until I remember that this will be the last time I see my father for months.
    He turns to Tom.
    "Be good," he says. "Take care of your brother. Don't make your grandfather do everything. Help out at the garage."
    He nods, but he doesn't say anything. He's like that. Strong and silent. Women seem to find it appealing, but it bothers me. Who am I supposed to talk to if I can't talk to my brother?
    Dad turns to Grandpa. They are spitting images of each other—my grandfather just has more lines on his face and streaks of gray in his hair.
    "I don't mean to just drop them off on you," Dad says.
    Grandpa shakes his head. "I understand, son. This is the only way you'll be able to move on from Rebecca's death. And once you're a soldier, you're always a soldier."
    He nods. "I'll be back in…four months. Maybe six. I'll see when my unit allows it."
    "Fight the good fight, Greg," Grandpa says. Dad salutes him and my grandfather returns the gestures. Salutes seem so violent to me—the cutting motion with the hand, the tenseness of the body, the serious expression on their faces.
    Dad pivots on his heel. I count his steps—one, two, three, four, five, six—before my grandfather puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me away from airport security. Tom walks in front of us as we leave the airport, his shoulders square and his strides long as if he is already preparing to become a soldier at ten years old.
    I look up at Grandpa.
    "Grandpa, why didn't Dad say good-bye?" I ask.
    "He didn't want to appear weak in front of the other soldiers." He glances over at me. "Why don't you call me Albert for now on? You're a big boy, aren't you?"
    I