Chapter Five
Over the next few days, Cora put her classroom in order by making sure the large, commercial-sized kiln and sixteen throwing wheels in the pottery room were clean and in good repair. She also took stock of the clay and other supplies. The teacher before her had done a respectable job caring for the equipment and maintaining the necessary inventory, so it wasn’t too overwhelming of a job. She obtained permission to order some glazes she’d been hoping to get, as well as a new set of colored pencils and paintbrushes for each student, so she’d at least have the supplies needed to start the year off right.
By the end of the week, Cora was feeling pretty encouraged about beginning school on Monday. She’d been running into more and more students as the boys returned to the ranch and was looking forward to meeting the rest. Other than texting and calling her old friends and her brother, who promised to come out and see her soon, she’d had virtually no social life since she arrived, so she figured more distraction, work and activity would help fill that gap. The neighbor opposite to Sean Travers, Doug Maggleby, a math teacher at the school, chatted with her whenever he caught her out and about. But she’d started to avoid him, where possible. The more he talked, the more uncomfortable he made her. He liked to rave about politics, and she rarely agreed with his opinion. He’d also mentioned taking her to the movies even though he was clearly too old for her. She wasn’t looking forward to having to say no, but knew that was coming. So instead of visiting with him in the evenings like she had the first few nights, she’d sneak out of her bungalow and walk down to the pond to watch the sunset or stop by the horses’ pen to say good-night. If Mr. Maggleby happened to be in his yard working in his fall garden, however, she’d settle for having a glass of wine in her cottage and reading a book or going over her lesson plans.
She’d seen very little of Elijah since taking those photographs of him horseback riding with the boys. Although she wasn’t pleased by the fact, she’d developed a habit of looking for him whenever she was out. Occasionally, she’d spot him at a distance and couldn’t help admiring what she saw. But he seemed extra busy getting the ranch ready for the fall semester, so she was fairly certain she was the last thing on his mind.
Aiyana had been especially busy, too. Since Betty May had handled the purchase requisition for the art supplies, Cora had had no interaction with her birth mother—not until Friday afternoon. She was in the cafeteria between lunch and dinner, nibbling on a chocolate chip cookie while she finished reading the orientation materials she’d been given, when Aiyana came in, poured herself a cup of coffee and walked over to join Cora.
“Hello.” Instantly self-conscious, Cora closed the manual as her “boss” sat down.
“How are you holding up, dear?” Aiyana asked.
“Good.” She cleared her throat. “Great.”
“I’m relieved to hear it—and glad to find you here. This time of year is so crazy for me. I apologize that I haven’t had the chance to check on you. Did you get the supplies you requested?”
“Not yet. But last I heard they’ve been ordered, so they should arrive soon. Thanks for giving the okay on that.”
She took a drink of her coffee. “I told you how I feel about art. That isn’t where I choose to skimp.”
“I have to admit your attitude is refreshing. I’m not used to art being much of a priority.”
“The practicalities of running a school can often get in the way of even the best intentions,” she said. “Fortunately, right now, we’ve got some wealthy benefactors who are giving us the support we need.” She winked. “Makes a difference when we have a fair number of students with rich—and sometimes famous—parents.”
“Are we talking movie stars?” Cora hadn’t considered that possibility, but she supposed, since they weren’t far from LA, it was logical.
“A few. Others are the children of producers and movie execs, attorneys, doctors, that sort of thing.”
“Are the wealthy kids ones who are typically loved, or...”
Her lips curved into a rueful smile. “Oh, they’re loved, just a little more generously than would probably be best. From what I’ve seen, being given too much can be as difficult as being given too little.”
“Doesn’t that create quite a disparity? I mean...you mentioned taking in orphans who have no one to support them.”
“We have some of the richest and some of the poorest students in the state. But we make it clear from the beginning that everyone is on an equal footing here at the ranch. There is no favoritism, no bending of the rules because of who their parents are.”