Kitabı oku: «Kids on the Doorstep / Cop on Loan: Kids on the Doorstep / Cop on Loan»

KIDS ON THE DOORSTEP

Renee closed the door and paced her small living room.

She twisted her hands in agitation, not quite sure what she’d hoped would happen just now, but definitely disappointed that nothing at all had happened.

Yet the very fact that she’d looked into his eyes and felt a tingle zing from her stomach to her feminine parts made her extremely wary. She wasn’t supposed to be attracted to John Murphy. The man had complicated her life in a way that should make him Public Enemy No.1 in her eyes, but she was slowly seeing him in a different light.

And that was not good. Better to keep the battle lines firmly drawn. They were not on the same side. They were simply being civil to one another for the sake of the kids.

Cop on Loan

She opened her door to a tired-looking cop.

He couldn’t have had more than a few hours’ sleep, but there he was, wearing the faded blue jeans and dark T-shirt that appeared to be his standard off-duty wardrobe.

Jasmine looked past Tony to the truck parked at the kerb with a mattress and box spring in the back and a giant dog in the cab.

“That’s your dog?”

“I told you he was big.”

“That’s not big. That’s economy size.”

He laughed and she felt the impact of the unexpected transformation. He was surprisingly attractive when he wasn’t being condescending or annoying.

“You’re sure about this? Having me move in?” he asked, the laughter fading from his face.

This was probably the last time he’d give her an out.

Her last chance to bail.

Kids On The Doorstep

by

Kimberly Van Meter
Cop On Loan

by

Jeannie Watt

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Available in September 2010
from Mills & Boon^® Special Moments^™

The Texas Billionaire’s Bride

by Crystal Green

&

The Texas Bodyguard’s Proposal

by Karen Rose Smith

Kids on the Doorstep

by Kimberly Van Meter

&

Cop on Loan

by Jeannie Watt

The Texan’s Tennessee Romance

by Gina Wilkins

&

The Rancher & the Reluctant Princess

by Christine Flynn

Loving the Right Brother

by Marie Ferrarella

A Weaver Baby

by Allison Leigh

A Small-Town Temptation

by Terry McLaughlin

A Not-So-Perfect Past

by Beth Andrews

Kids On The Doorstep

by

Kimberly Van Meter

An avid reader since before she can remember, KIMBERLY VAN METER started her writing career at sixteen when she finished her first novel, typing late nights and early mornings on her mother’s old portable typewriter. Although that first novel was nothing short of literary mud, with each successive piece of work her writing improved to the point of reaching that coveted published status.

Kimberly, now a journalist, and her husband and three kids make their home in Oakdale. She enjoys writing, reading, photography and drinking hot chocolate by the window sill when it rains.

To the mothers of the world: raising children is the most important job we as adults will ever have, as they are our legacy and our future.

To my sister, Kristen, who wears the badge of motherhood with pride and inspires people to love without reservation, without judgement, without fear. She is a mama bear and a wonder to watch in action!

Chapter One

JOHN MURPHY HAD JUST STOKED the fire and returned to his well-worn leather chair with his newspaper in hand when an urgent knock at the front door had him twisting in surprise.

It was nearly ten o’clock at night and the rain was quickly turning to sleet. This storm was supposed to hit the California Sierra Nevadas pretty hard by dumping a load of snow in the high country and plenty of it even in the foothills, so anyone with any kind of sense knew better than to be out and about. A bad feeling settled in his gut. There was no one he could imagine who would venture into this storm without good reason.

“John? It’s me, Gladys.”

The sound of his neighbor’s voice, thin and reedy, alarmed him. It was too late for house calls of an ordinary nature and Gladys—after going through surgery a few days prior—should’ve been in bed resting.

He opened the door and Gladys offered him a weak and somewhat pained smile as she and three little girls were ushered in from the biting cold.

“What the hell is going on?” he asked yet immediately guided Gladys to his leather chair. “What in the Sam Hill are you doing out in this storm in your condition? You just had surgery, woman. Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“Don’t yell at her. It’s not her fault,” piped up the middle girl whose short stack of wild hair was matted to her head. The poor kid looked like a drowned pixie. She rubbed at her pert nose but stared John down with attitude. “Daddy didn’t stay long enough to listen that she was sick.”

John ran his hand through his hair. “And you are? And who’s your daddy?”

“We’re the Dollings and I’m Taylor,” the little tyke proclaimed, ignoring the nervous jostling from her older sister to be quiet. “Who are you?” she asked without hesitation.

“John Murphy,” he grunted in answer. “And your daddy?”

Gladys broke in with a grimace. “This is Alexis, Taylor and the little one is Chloe. Oh, John, it’s the most deplorable situation and I didn’t know what to do. Look at them, the poor chickpeas, they’re practically frozen to the bone and wearing nothing more than rags. I could throttle that irresponsible boy for this!”

“Throttle who?” John was growing more perplexed by the moment, but Gladys was obviously distressed enough without his blustering adding to it so he tried for patience. “Tell me what’s going on here.”

Gladys compressed her lips to a fine line. “My sister’s grandson, Jason, God rest her soul that she never saw how badly he turned out, just showed up on my doorstep with the girls, saying he couldn’t handle it anymore and he needed me to keep them for a while until he got back on his feet. More likely so that he can be footloose and fancy-free, is what I think but before I could talk some sense into him, he was gone.” Her gaze softened as she took in the children’s forlorn appearance but when she turned to him again, her expression was full of worry and embarrassment. “I didn’t know what to do. I don’t want to take them to the authorities. They are my family, even if only distantly.”

The littlest, she couldn’t be more than three he wagered, sneezed and he realized they were still standing there soaked. He went to the hall closet and returned with three blankets. Giving one to each girl, he told them to warm up by the fire while he tried making sense of things with Gladys.

“Start from the beginning,” he instructed in a low voice so as not to scare the kids. “Where is their father and when is he coming back? Or how about their mother for that matter? They have to have a mother somewhere.”

“Daddy said Mommy left us,” Taylor answered before Gladys could. John turned toward Taylor and she continued, bundled in the blanket, despite several attempts by her older sister to shush her. She glowered at her sister. “Well, that’s what he said.”

“It’s no one’s business,” the older one said, adding in a low tone, “Especially no stranger.”

John looked to Gladys. “He split? No number, nothing?”

“Nothing. He barely took time enough to push the girls out of the car with their bag and then was off again. I tried to stop him but he was too fast for me.” That last part came out accompanied by a trembling lip and John knew Gladys was ashamed of her weakened state. Under normal circumstances the older woman was like a hurricane but the last year had been rough on her and her age was starting to slow her down. He patted her knee in some semblance of comfort but he was certainly caught in a bad spot. It was clear Gladys was loath to involve the authorities but she wasn’t in any shape to care for the kids herself.

John eyed the older girl. “Alexis, right? I take it you’re the oldest?” She nodded warily. “How old are you?” he asked.

Alexis raised her chin. “I’m nine, almost ten. Taylor is five and Chloe is three.”

So incredibly young. Essentially abandoned. John was at a loss of what to do. The closest he’d ever come to babies or children were his nephews and they only visited on holidays. Frankly, he was about as equipped to deal with these kids as a dog was to teach a cat how to fetch. But he knew he couldn’t very well toss them out on their ears. Gladys had come to him for help even though the old girl was a little addled if she thought he was her best option. The girls stared up at him, waiting, and he realized he couldn’t just stand there scratching his head.

“You need to get out of those wet clothes. If you don’t already have pneumonia, you will by tomorrow,” he grumbled, wondering what he could possibly find to fit three little girls. “And then, I think we ought to call Sheriff Casey, she’ll know what to do for you guys.”

“We’re girls,” Taylor corrected him.

“Sorry. My mistake. You girls,” he said, moving to the phone.

Gladys stopped him with a hand on his arm, beseeching him silently as she said, “I know it’s what we should do but no one says we have to do it this very second. Let’s wait to make that call. Maybe Jason will be back tomorrow and everything will work itself out on its own. No sense in dragging in outsiders if we don’t have to.”

“You sure?” he asked, torn between wanting to make that call and wanting to reassure Gladys that everything was going to be fine. She nodded and his shoulders tensed even though he let out a gusty sigh. He turned to the girls. “Looks like you’re going to bunk here tonight until we get things figured out. Alexis, I need you to help your sisters get settled in. The little one looks about ready to fall over, she’s so tired. You been driving all night with your daddy?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought so. Your great-aunt Gladys is real tired. She’s not feeling good right now. What say we look at this problem with fresh eyes in the morning?”

“I guess.” Her arm went around the baby protectively. “Where are we gonna sleep?” she asked after giving the entire room a quick once-over as if assessing the space herself. “That couch over there is big enough, I s’pose.”

“There’s no need for you girls to curl up on the couch. You can sleep in the guest bedroom. There’s a bed big enough for the three of you. All right?”

“I seepy, Lexie.” The little one’s mouth stretched in a yawn so big it nearly knocked her over, then an awful, wet-sounding cough followed that John had a feeling needed antibiotics to clear up.

“She sick?” He gestured at the little one and Alexis picked up her baby sister as if to shield her, although as thin as all the girls were it just made the whole scene more pathetic and worrisome. “That cough doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s just a cough. She’ll be fine,” Alexis said, but there was something in those blue eyes that told him she was more worried than she wanted to let on and it made him wonder how long that baby girl had been making those wet, gurgling sounds in her chest. His gut reaction told him she needed a doctor. And he was rarely wrong when his instincts started to clang like cowbells. But he didn’t think it warranted a trip to the emergency so there wasn’t much he could do about it until morning. He shot Gladys a meaningful look and she gave an imperceptible nod telling him she knew where his thoughts were going and agreed.

“Time to hit the hay,” he said.

Gladys smiled her gratitude and sank a little farther into his chair as if it were swallowing her up and he shook his head at the circumstances. He’d always had a soft spot for lost critters and rehabilitating abused horses was part of his livelihood, but he never figured his tender side might catch him three lost little girls. “All right, Gladys, you ought to be in bed, too. You can take the other guest bedroom.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, but her expression filled with ill-disguised relief. “I don’t mean to be making trouble.”

He helped her out of the chair. “Who are you kidding, old woman. You’re nothing but trouble.”

His comment elicited a weak chuckle as she allowed him to walk her down the hall and into the cold bedroom. He got her settled with a few extra blankets and as he turned to leave so she could change and climb into bed, her voice stopped him at the door frame. “Thank you, Johnny. I know this isn’t your idea of a fun time. Tomorrow, we’ll get out of your hair. I’ll figure something out. It’s not your problem and I’m sorry for dumping it in your lap. I…panicked a little. I know I shouldn’t have but, oh, what a mess.”

He nodded but otherwise remained silent. Gladys was the closest thing he had to a mother. If she had a problem, it was his problem, too. “See you in the morning, Gladys,” he said and shut the door.

Returning to the living room where the girls remained, color returning to their cheeks as the fire warmed their frozen little bodies, Alexis ventured forward, surprising him with her question.

“Mister…” Alexis said hesitantly. “Before we go to bed do you got anything we could eat? Bread or something?”

“Let me guess…no dinner?”

Alexis gave a short shake of her head but didn’t elaborate. A curse danced behind his teeth as he picked up clearly what she hadn’t said. Probably missed more than a few meals here and there judging by the sharp points of their shoulders. Neglect was a form of abuse, too. He’d saved more animals from the brink of starvation than he cared to count but seeing the evidence of neglect in children made his stomach clench with disgust. This was why he kept himself apart from nearly everyone except for the handful of family he had. On the whole, most people disappointed and annoyed him. In this case, he went way past annoyed and straight into pissed off.

“Follow me,” he instructed, his voice gruffer than he intended and he winced inwardly as he saw the baby flinch, her rail-thin arms clutching at her sister’s neck. Ah hell…he cursed himself for scaring her. These kids were traumatized to varying degrees but he could see the baby was particularly jumpy. He needed to treat them as he would a traumatized horse. Voice calm yet firm. Trying again, he said, “Let’s see what we can rustle up.”

He walked to the kitchen and flipped the light as he went. Reaching into the fridge he pulled out the beans and rice that he’d made earlier in the day.

Alexis had set the baby down to come and peer into the pots as he put them on the stove to reheat. “What’s this?” she asked, her eyes wary.

“Beans and rice. All I got on such short notice. Take it or leave it.”

Chloe scrambled to the table and climbed into the chair despite the fact that it was way too big for her small frame. The thick oak chair nearly swallowed the toddler but she didn’t seem to care as she eyed the pots with blatant desire. “I like beans,” she said.

Taylor joined her sister. “Me, too.”

John looked to Alexis but she was too busy checking out her surroundings. When she took her tentative spot at the table, he surmised that beans and rice were okay with her.

He grabbed three bowls, heaped a mound of rice and then dumped a ladleful of beans on top and handed the girls their dinner.

They shoveled the food into their mouths without reservation and as one bite cleared the spoon, they were digging in for the next. He wanted to ask when they’d eaten last but a part of him didn’t want to know. It would just intensify the burn that was already stoking his temper.

He decided to keep them talking in the hopes that the food would distract them into divulging some details about their situation. “So, where you girls from?”

“Arizona,” Taylor answered, scooping the last of her beans onto her spoon with her fingers. She looked to him with her empty bowl, her small tongue snaking out to lick her lips. “Is there more?”

Alexis looked up from her bowl. “Don’t be a little piglet.”

Taylor shot Alexis a scowl. “I’m no piglet. But I’m still hungry.”

John smiled and took Taylor’s bowl. “There’s plenty more where that came from. I made extra this time around.”

He handed Taylor her refilled bowl and focused on Alexis who seemed intent on her supper yet John got the sense that she was covertly taking everything in.

“What’s your mom’s name?” he asked.

Alexis ignored John’s question and, noticing that Chloe had stopped eating, pushed her bowl away. “We’re tired. Can we go to bed now?”

“Chloe’s not finished with her supper,” he said.

Alexis squared her jaw but remained silent. He wondered what was going through her head.

Sighing, he decided this battle wasn’t worth fighting. He wasn’t going to get any answers tonight. He was looking into the face of a child who knew something about keeping secrets. He hated to think of what the kid was hiding from. “All right, no more questions. Bedtime.”

The ranch house was plenty big enough for three small, uninvited guests and an elderly companion but the house rarely had so many people milling around, not since he and Evan were kids and their mom had once rented the extra rooms out to help make ends meet.

He gave them each one of his T-shirts to sleep in and after they’d changed in the adjoining bathroom, they ran to the bed.

Alexis helped Chloe up and Taylor climbed up by herself.

“You need anything else?” he asked gruffly.

“Mister—”

“John,” he corrected Chloe.

“Mr. John, do you have a mommy here?”

“A mommy?”

Alexis clarified. “She means do you have a wife?”

He shook his head. “No. Just me and the horses.”

Taylor, who had already snuggled into the pillows, sat up with a gap-toothed grin. “Horses?”

“That’s right. This is a horse ranch. I’ve got about ten stabled right now. Why? You like horses?”

Taylor nodded. “Can I see them tomorrow?”

He didn’t want to make promises. The first order of tomorrow would be to call the authorities. “We’ll see.”

Clicking off the light, he closed the door but not before catching a glimpse of Alexis’s face turned to the window, an incredibly sad expression on her young profile.

He suspected that little girl felt responsible for her sisters but there was only so much a child could do. It wasn’t right. But it happens. That was something he knew well. He just hated seeing it because it dredged up a litany of feelings he’d buried a long time ago. Something about that little girl’s expression poked and prodded at the tender spot in his heart in the same way an animal did that everyone else would rather give up on than save.

And to be honest, he didn’t know how he felt about that but he suspected his quiet life was about to get noisy.

Chloe coughed, the sound worrying him. No matter what else happened tomorrow, at the very least he was taking that baby to the doctor.

RENEE DOLLING DROVE SLOWLY down the dirt driveway, glancing once again at the address she’d scratched on a piece of paper before leaving Arizona, and prayed that Jason’s great-aunt hadn’t moved in the ten-plus years since she’d last seen the old woman. From what she remembered, Gladys Stemming was a mouthy one although harmless. But then, Renee had only met her once and who knew what she was like now.

She’d come here as a last-ditch effort. She’d been to all the usual places Jason used to frequent in their neck of the woods in Arizona and had come up empty. Far as Renee knew, Gladys was Jason’s only living relative so it served to reason, he might’ve taken the kids there before he split. If they weren’t here…

Think positive. You’ve gotten this far, don’t give up now.

She went to the door and knocked, the absolute stillness of the countryside unnerving her. She knocked again, harder than the first time but the sound just echoed into the inky dark. She glanced around, noted the absence of a vehicle as well as any other sign of civilization and fought the wave of despair. She didn’t even know if this was where Gladys still lived. Okay. Focus. Look for some kind of sign that she does, Renee instructed herself so she didn’t dissolve into a puddle of frustrated tears. Walking across the short porch, she peered into a window and saw the lumps of furniture but nothing that might tell her who lived there.

She rubbed her arms briskly. She’d forgotten how cold it got here. Stomping her feet to keep the circulation moving, she caught the shadowed outline of the mailbox at the end of the driveway. Climbing into the car, she drove to the edge of the road and pulled open the mailbox to feel inside.

Bingo.

Pulling a stack of mail, she glanced at the address and nearly went weak with relief. Gladys Stemming. She still lived here. But even as she thumbed through the hefty stack her elation was short-lived. Apparently, it’d been at least a week since the mail was picked up, which could mean the old woman hadn’t been home for a while. Replacing the mail, she chewed her bottom lip. She’d have to come back tomorrow, maybe go into town and ask around. Somebody was bound to know where the old woman was and perhaps, if Gladys had them, her children.

Putting the car into drive, she looked down at the bedraggled and ugly stuffed rabbit that had belonged to Taylor. Renee had found it, abandoned, at their old house after she’d gotten out of rehab. That was four months ago. She’d been searching for him and the girls ever since. Renee didn’t much care where Jason went—heaven help him if she managed to get her hands around his neck for this latest stunt—but she needed her girls.

Tears pricked her eyes again but she sniffed them back. She was close. She could feel it.

A fresh flood of anger followed. Damn you, Jason. Where the hell have you taken my kids?

Renee reluctantly drove away, refusing to believe that her children were far, that Jason had taken them to a place where she’d never find them. She tried to ignore the guilt that rose to slap her in the face whenever she let herself remember that she was the first one to walk out on their children.

It wasn’t her proudest moment but hitting rock bottom usually isn’t. Admitting to herself she was an alcoholic trapped in a loveless marriage was a tough pill to swallow, and even as she was committed to sobriety the price had been pretty steep.

Ten long years of missteps and mistakes with Jason, a man who had less depth than a cartoon character. It was enough to make her want to hide in shame over every bad decision she and Jason had put their girls through but she’d vowed things would be different once she got out of rehab.

Only to find them gone. Renee imagined Jason made the decision to take off shortly after she told him she wanted a divorce. He’d known this was the best way to hurt her. And damn, he knew her well.

Every day without her girls felt like knives in her heart.

Chapter Two

THE FOLLOWING MORNING just as he always did, John rose at 5:30 a.m. to start the day and for a split second, as he set the coffee to percolating and stoked the coals in the fireplace to a fresh blaze with kindling and a small piece of seasoned oak, he almost forgot that he wasn’t alone. But when a person had been a bachelor as long as John there were some things that didn’t slip your notice. Such as the prickling feeling at the back of your neck when you know someone is behind you, staring. He turned and found Taylor standing in the archway, scratching her leg with her toe, her eyes fixed on him.

“Go back to bed. It’s too early.”

“You’re up.” She pointed out as she scrubbed at her pixie nose with her palm, her gaze wide and expectant.

“I’m a grown-up. You’re still a kid—” practically still in diapers “—and kids need their rest. Don’t you want to grow up big and strong?”

She thought about it for a second before nodding but then said, “But I can’t rest if I’m not sleepy. Can you, Mr. John?”

Not really. He didn’t much see the point in lounging in bed if he wasn’t tired, either. But if he didn’t send her back to bed with her sisters, he’d have to find something to entertain her with and he didn’t have a clue as to how to entertain a five-year-old little girl. He eyed her speculatively. “You hungry?”

She nodded eagerly. “Are we having more of them beans?” she chirped as she followed him into the kitchen. “They were real good. You’re a good cooker, Mr. John.”

“I don’t know about that, and stop calling me Mr. John. Just John, okay?”

“Okay,” Taylor agreed easily, plopping into the chair she’d taken last night. “What’s for breakfast, then?”

“Oatmeal.” He caught her expression falter and he added quickly, “Or eggs. Take your pick.”

“Eggs, please. I like them all mixed up. Do you like them that way? Chloe doesn’t like eggs so maybe she could have the oatmeal. But me and Lexie like eggs a lot. Chloe didn’t like the way Daddy made his eggs, she said they tasted funny. I didn’t think so but sometimes he made her a special kind. Maybe she didn’t like just his special eggs because when Lexie made eggs she ate ’em right up. Do you make them special, Mr. John?”

The dizzying speed of the child’s twisting and nearly nonsensical dialogue almost had John staring in confusion as he tried to decipher even a quarter of what she’d said but something in that monologue had struck a chord of alarm. “Special eggs, Taylor?”

“Yeah, sometimes he made Chloe her own eggs but—” Taylor’s little face scrunched in distaste “—they always made her tummy hurt afterward. Maybe Daddy wasn’t a very good cooker.”

“Maybe not,” John murmured, though he was starting to feel a little sick to his stomach himself. “How come your Daddy always made Chloe her own special eggs?”

Taylor shrugged. “I dunno. But Daddy yells at Chloe a lot.”

“Why’s that?”

“He just does.” Taylor’s expression dimmed with sadness and John felt something in his chest pull. Her voice dropped to a scared whisper. “She gets lots of spankings.”

Chloe was hardly more than a baby. No one should be raising a hand to her little body.

John stiffened at the anger pouring through his veins at what he was hearing and moved to the fridge to grab the eggs. He’d heard enough and by the time he filled the sheriff’s ear with what he’d learned, there was no way in hell those kids were going back to that son of a bitch. He offered a smile to the little tyke even though he was itching to put his fist through the wall, and went through the motions of cooking up a batch of mixed-up eggs that weren’t special in any way.

GLADYS DIDN’T LOOK VERY GOOD, John thought as he brought her a cup of coffee.

“You sure you don’t want to go see that doc of yours?” he asked.

She waved away his concern. “I’m fine. Just a little winded is all from the excitement last night. I just don’t know what to do about those poor babies. I don’t even know if they’ve been in school or what kind of lives they’ve been living. I’m just beside myself.”

“What about the mother? Do you know where she might be? Maybe I could place a few calls.”

Gladys made a look of distaste. “Oh, don’t waste your time with that one. I only met her once but she never made much of an impression. A little snooty and standoffish if you ask me and we never really hit it off. Not that I was close with Jason, mind you, but at least he was family. I’ve known him since he was a boy. Never had much of a character. Nothing like you and Evan. If you boys had been anything like Jason your mama would’ve lost the ranch the moment the tax man had started calling. No…I knew from the time he was a young man he wasn’t going to amount to much but I’d hoped I was wrong. There’s no satisfaction in being right in this instance.”

“So you think the mother just took off or something like Jason did?”

Gladys sighed. “I don’t know but what kind of mother would leave her babies behind? I can only imagine,” she said, her voice catching as the ghost of an old pain reappeared.

John agreed privately but allowed the quiet to dull the edge of Gladys’s long-ago loss. Even after all this time Gladys felt the agony of her stillborn son. He supposed that was a hurt that never truly healed. Not even with decades of time as a balm.

“So what do we do?”

Gladys looked at him sharply then sighed. “We? Oh, Johnny, this isn’t your problem. I’ll figure something out.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You’re in no shape to be tending to three little kids. And frankly, I don’t care what you say, I think you need to see your doctor. That surgery might’ve taken more out of you than you realize.”

Gladys was silent for a moment and John had a feeling she was wrestling with her pride, which was no small thing. She wasn’t accustomed to being dependent on someone else and it was probably killing her. But it was a temporary thing and she realized this, too, and finally nodded in agreement.

“You might be right,” she conceded with a sigh. “And I’ve been thinking about what you said about contacting the authorities. Maybe that’s the best thing to do. I don’t think Jason or Renee were doing a great job with these girls. Chloe is most definitely going to need an antibiotic for that cough and something tells me she’s been sick for a while. The poor baby has no color to speak of. They ought to have to work to get them back. Maybe it’ll teach them a lesson in being parents.”

“So you’re saying you’re okay with me calling the sheriff?”

“Yes, on one condition…the children stay together. They need each other.”

“I’ll make the call,” he said, moving to grab the phone. “And then I’m taking Chloe to the doctor.”

RENEE PULLED TO A STOP and took a cursory glance around the ranch that bordered Gladys’s property. She’d waited two agonizing days, but by 11 a.m. the third day Renee figured she ought to start poking around. If Gladys had gone on vacation, she might’ve left instructions with a neighbor to watch the house for her. Either way, Renee might get some kind of information that might be useful in finding Jason and the kids.

She was nearly to the door when a deep voice startled her.

“Didn’t you see the sign?”

Her heart jackhammering in her chest, she stammered a bit as she turned, her gaze catching the sign he was talking about. Trespassers Will Be Shot. No Exceptions. She swallowed and got straight to the point. “I’m sorry…I’m looking for Gladys Stemming but she doesn’t seem to be home and I wondered…”

“What do you want with Gladys?”

She frowned at his tone. “I’m Renee Dolling. Uh, well, she’s my aunt, by marriage, and I—” Why was she explaining herself to this man? Renee straightened. “Has she gone on a trip? If so, do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Dolling?” He repeated, a sudden shrewd light entering the hard stare coming at her from beneath a dusty and worn baseball cap. Little ducktails of dirty blond hair too long to be fashionable stuck out from under the hat as if to clearly state he had no time for such niceties as regular haircuts. And his sun-darkened face had a boyish charm that was completely at odds with the stern expression pinching his mouth as he said again, “Did you say your name was Dolling?”

“Yes…do I know you?”

“Name’s John Murphy and, no, we’ve never met, but you’ve sure got some explaining to do.”

“Excuse me?”

“Three days ago your husband dumped your kids with a sixty-seven-year-old woman and took off without so much as a ‘see you later’ and she’d just had surgery for a triple bypass but you wouldn’t know that now, would you, because you dumped your kids before he did.”

“He’s not my husband,” she muttered yet felt heat blooming in her cheeks at his words. At least he wouldn’t be in a few months. The divorce wasn’t quite final in the eyes of the courts but as far as she was concerned Jason could take a long walk off a short pier after the hell he’d put her through. Selfish bastard. Wait a minute…“Did you just say my husband dropped the girls off with Gladys?”

“I did.”

A relieved smile broke through her annoyance at being interrogated and she exhaled loudly. “Oh, thank God. Where is she? I’ve been looking for the girls for months and I’ve been worried sick.”

Her relief was short-lived as the man continued to openly assess her, as if he were weighing something heavy in his mind, and unease fluttered in her stomach. “Is there a problem?” she asked stiffly.

“I’d say so.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t have custody any longer.”

Renee’s knees nearly snapped out from under her as she sucked in a pained gasp. “What?”

“Yesterday afternoon your girls were placed in the protective custody of their aunt Gladys as a temporary measure until things can be sorted out. No mother, no father…Gladys was their closest relative. Simple as that.”

“Well, I’m back so that won’t be necessary, now will it?”

“Doesn’t work that way. Courts are involved. Convince them you’ve decided to be a mom again and then we’ll see. But, can’t say that will be easy. Seems the courts around here don’t take lightly to parents abandoning their kids.”

She bristled at the thinly veiled disgust behind his seemingly mild statement and allowed the building anger to hold the panic at bay.

He didn’t have the right to judge her. No one did. “Not that it’s any of your business but my reasons for leaving my children with their father are my own. I didn’t know he was going to do what he did. Just point me in the direction of my children and we’ll get out of your life.”

“I already told you I can’t do that.” He shifted lazily against the fence he was leaning against, the slow action belying the fierce set of his jaw.

“What?”

“You heard me. The girls are in Gladys’s custody. If you want your kids, you’re going to have to talk to the court.”

“This is ridiculous,” Renee said, her voice hitting a shrill note. “What the hell is going on here? Are you telling me that you’re keeping my girls from me? You’re stealing my children?” Her voice rose to a hysterical pitch on that last question while her heart beat so hard it felt as if it might burst right out of her chest. This wasn’t happening. This had to be a bad dream. A horrific, horrible dream. Total strangers didn’t just get to keep other people’s kids. It just didn’t happen.

“No. The way I see it, three little girls were abandoned by their no-account parents and the law stepped in to protect them. If that’s not the way you see it, then you need to prove otherwise to the judge. Until then, get off my property.”

Chapter Three

JOHN WATCHED AS THE BLONDE marched over to her car. She shot him one last burning look filled with animosity but he didn’t care. Something Taylor had said was still sticking in his mind in a terrible way. Was it possible that their father had put something bad into the baby’s eggs? And if so, did the mom know about it? He watched as the woman, Renee, climbed into her car and slammed the door. No doubt she was wishing his head were caught between the door and the chassis. She sat in her car glaring at him, clearly debating her next move.

The front door opened and Gladys appeared with the children flocked around her, each bundled in an odd assortment of secondhand clothes that looked old enough to earn a spot in a museum somewhere, and John knew that any chance of a peaceful resolution was over.

“Lexie?” The woman had jumped from the car and was now running toward the girls until John blocked her path with a warning that she didn’t heed. “Get out of my way,” she said in a low growl. “Those are my girls and you’re not going to stop me from at least seeing them!”

John turned to Gladys, who was watching the scene with alarm, and instructed the older woman to go back inside with the kids.

“Those are my kids! You can’t keep me from them. I have a right to see them. Let me go or you and I will have major problems that go way beyond your manners and rude disposition. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you just fine. Now you listen to me. I don’t know you from Adam but I do know you’re not going anywhere near those girls until we get things sorted out. They’ve been through plenty without you traipsing into their lives acting like you’re here to pick up lost luggage after a long plane ride.”

She paled and her bottom lip actually trembled slightly but John wasn’t swayed. Where had she been when her girls were going without food? When Chloe got sick and had no one to take her to the doctor? Those little girls needed someone to champion them and right now, he was it.

“You don’t know anything about my life.”

“About that you’re right and, woman, I don’t care to know. You walked out on your kids. Their daddy walked out on them. I didn’t ask for this but it landed in my lap just the same and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let those girls go to the first ditzy broad who comes my way saying she wants her babies back.” She gasped and he gave her arm a little shove as he released her. “Now, the best thing you can do right this minute is to get off my property before I have you arrested for trespassing.”

Tears welled in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. Rubbing at her arm where he’d kept a firm grip, she sent him a scathing look and promised to return with the authorities.

“You can’t just keep someone’s kids like you would a stray puppy! They’re mine and you can’t—”

“Yack, yack, yack. You do what you feel is necessary. Until then, get lost.”

RENEE DROVE LIKE A CRAZY WOMAN straight to the Sheriff’s Department in Emmett’s Mill, part of her sobbing with elation that she’d finally found her girls and the other part railing at the asshole who had the audacity to keep them from her as if he had the right.

Coming to an abrupt stop in front of the police station, she pushed open the double doors and stalked inside. She approached the reception desk and banged on the little bell for service when the woman behind the desk was slow to open the sliding protective glass window.

“I need to talk to an officer right away,” she said to the dispatcher-receptionist, ignoring the woman’s look of annoyance. “A man is keeping my children from me and I need an officer to go out there and get them.”

“Excuse me? Come again? You say someone’s holding your kids?”

“Yes. A man named John Murphy—”

“That name sounds awful familiar…does he own the Murphy ranch out on the outskirts of town?”

“Yeah, I guess it was a ranch of some kind.” She vaguely remembered seeing a few horses and a dog. Renee let out a short breath as incredulity warred with extreme frustration at the woman’s failure to grasp that a serious crime was being committed. She seemed more interested in playing the Name Game, and Renee tried again. “Yeah, it was a ranch but I hardly think that’s relevant when I’m trying to tell you that this John Murphy has kidnapped my children. He has my kids and I want them right now. Can I speak with a deputy please?”

“Don’t get huffy.” The woman’s mouth pinched, causing little lines to crease her lips in a most unflattering way. “All the available deputies are out on a call. But if you leave a name and number—”

Renee slapped her hand down on the counter, making the woman jump and her hand flutter to her chest in alarm but Renee was past caring about making waves. She wanted her kids. “I will not. A crime is being committed and I want a goddamn officer. Do you hear me?”

The woman’s deep-set eyes narrowed and Renee knew she’d just crossed over to the place of No Return and she was pretty sure that place was also nicknamed Up Shit Creek Without a Paddle because moments later, those deputies that were previously unavailable came pouring out and Renee found herself in handcuffs.

“What are you doing?” Renee shrieked as the deputy led her to a small single cell in the rear of the building. “I come here for help and you’re arresting me?”

“Nancy pressed the panic button, which means you must’ve done something to cause her to panic. This is for everyone’s safety until we figure out what’s going on.”

A woman officer entered the room. “I got this Fred. You can go ahead and take that coffee break you were wanting earlier.” She waited for Deputy Do-Right Fred to leave and then she introduced herself. “I’m Sheriff Casey. Seems you’re making friends wherever you go. I got a call from John Murphy about a half hour before you showed up and started abusing my staff. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

Renee’s cheeks warmed at the cloaked rebuke and took a minute to calm herself before she answered. “My ex-husband, Jason Dolling, took off with our kids and I’ve been trying to find them for the past four months. I remembered that Jason had a great-aunt in the area and so I came looking for my girls here and found them at the neighbor’s house!”

“Are you sure they’re your kids?”

Renee stared at the woman. “Are you kidding me? Of course I know for sure. They’re my kids. That’s not something you forget.”

“According to John, you walked out on them. That true?”

“I left them with their father for personal reasons,” Renee said, fuming. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“I’m the one asking the questions. Why’d you leave them?”

“I told you. It was personal.”

“Yeah…it usually is.” The woman regarded her shrewdly and Renee felt her jaw tense. She got the distinct impression this small-town sheriff was judging her and there was nothing Renee hated more than to be put on display just so someone else could offer their opinion. The sheriff sighed. “Well, we’ve got ourselves a situation.”

“Yes, I agree. Some hillbilly horse rancher has my children and I require your assistance to retrieve them,” Renee said.

“That’s not exactly how I see it,” the sheriff admitted with a shake of her head.

“Oh? Is there any other way to see things? Perhaps you’d like to swab my cheek for DNA to make sure I’m their mother.”

The sarcasm in her voice did little to soften the sheriff toward her but Renee was losing patience with this whole ridiculous routine. And to think she’d thought the hardest part of this mess would’ve been to find Jason and the girls, not pick them up. Noting the narrowed stare and gathering frown on the sheriff’s face, she tried again. “Listen, I’m tired and I just want to get my girls. It seems there’s been a misunderstanding but no harm done. So if you’ll just provide a police escort, we’ll be out of your hair before you know it and everything can go back to the way things were before me and my girls ever stepped foot in this godfor—” she checked that part of her sentence “—uh, town.”

The sheriff smiled but Renee felt the chill before the woman started talking. “You never answered my question.” At Renee’s blank stare, the sheriff asked again, “Why’d you leave your kids behind with a man who, by the sounds of it, wasn’t fit to water a dog much less care for three babies?”

No one hated the truth of that answer more than her, but if she lied it would only make her look worse so Renee grit her teeth and admitted her greatest shame to a total stranger. “Because I was in rehab.”

“Rehab.”

In that one word, Renee heard a wealth of condemnation and she wanted to scream. She’d get no help from the sheriff. Fine. On to Plan B. Inside she was shaking with frustration but she kept her expression calm, knowing if she had any chance of getting her girls she had to first get the hell out of this jail cell.

The sheriff sighed. “Okay, here’s the deal. John told me Gladys Stemming has temporary guardianship for the time being so until you get in front of the judge and have that amended, the order stands and I can’t let you charge out there and take the kids. But seeing as you haven’t actually committed a crime I can’t keep you here so, if I let you out of this cell, you’re going to promise me that you’re not going to rattle any more cages with your screeching and hollering. That’s not how things are done around here, you hearing me?”

Renee swallowed and nodded though it killed her to agree to those terms, especially when her first instinct was to drive straight back to that ranch and take the girls and run. Fortunately, good sense prevailed and she rationalized that once she got in court—in front of someone normal instead of these small-town hillbilly types who made up the rules as they went along—she knew she’d get her girls back and they could leave this nightmare behind.

“I hear you. Loud and clear,” Renee answered. “I’m sorry for freaking out your receptionist. I was upset. I haven’t seen my girls in months and contrary to what you may think about me, I’ve been desperately searching for them since Jason took off,” she added, with a dose of humility that wasn’t entirely fake for she really hadn’t meant to frighten anyone.

“Um-hmm. Well, just see that you keep your nose clean until you can get to court. I don’t want to have to lock you up again.”

That makes two of us.

JOHN SAT ACROSS THE TABLE from Alexis and Taylor while Chloe helped Gladys bake cookies in the kitchen.

“Was that your mama?” he asked the girls. Both were wearing solemn expressions, though there was a hint of anger in Alexis’s. He sighed. “If that woman was your mama, she’s going to come back and if the courts decide she’s fit, you’re going to have to go with her. Don’t you want to see your mama?”

Taylor looked uncertain but as she slanted a quick glance at her older sister, who had remained stoic, she chose to keep her answer locked up tight. Though her silence didn’t last long.

“I want to stay with you, Mr. John,” Taylor blurted. “I like it here. It’s warm and you’re a good cooker and I don’t mind sharing a bed with my sisters because it’s soft and I don’t get woken up by bugs running across my toes. Please don’t make us leave, Mr. John.”

That last part—delivered with a child’s earnestness—hit him square in the chest. He didn’t want to give the kid false promises but he couldn’t imagine breaking her heart like everyone else in her short life had done. “There are rules when it comes to kids,” he started, hating that it wasn’t as simple as Taylor saw it. “If your mama isn’t fit then you have to go to a court appointed something-or-another. This is a temporary thing that we got going on right now.” Tears sprang to Taylor’s eyes and Alexis pulled her closer. Ah hell…rules were meant to be broken, weren’t they? “Listen, I’ll see what I can do but if you stay here, there are rules here, too. Chores, helping out. I run a working horse ranch and I don’t have time to be chasing after three little girls who aren’t prone to listening.” He gave Alexis a short look. “Am I clear?”

Taylor nodded. “Can I help with the horses?”

John exhaled loudly, feeling as if he’d just agreed to take on the world for three little strangers. “We’ll see. In the meantime, why don’t you go help Mrs. Stemming with those cookies. I need to talk with your sister.”

He watched as Taylor hopped from her chair and skipped to help Gladys, a bright smile wreathing her small face as Gladys handed her a bowl with cookie dough and told her to start rolling it into little balls for the oven. He’d told Gladys she shouldn’t be up and about so much but the old gal wanted to feel useful and wouldn’t be deterred. He figured for now it was all right but he was going to get her to see the doctor soon.

Once Taylor was suitably occupied he gestured for Alexis to follow him into the living room, which was a far enough distance from the kitchen to allow them some privacy.

She took a seat opposite him, perched on the edge of the cowhide sofa as if poised to bolt if the need arose. Everything about Alexis, from her rigid posture to her sharp, alert and wary gaze, told him that this girl had lost her childhood somewhere along the way of her life. He could relate somewhat. He’d often felt like Evan’s father rather than just his older brother after their mom died. The weight of that responsibility had a tendency to suck the fun right out of growing up. He eyed her intently. This kid didn’t know what it was like to be coddled and so he’d talk to her straight.

“You mad at your mama? It’s okay if you are. She did a bad thing, leaving you like she did. But it seems maybe she has changed a bit since you saw her last. She seemed real upset, don’t you think? Maybe you could sit down and chat with her for a bit, get a feel for what she’s saying.”

Alexis softened imperceptibly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I know you still have feelings for your mama and that’s okay, too. We can be mad at the people we love. But if you don’t talk with her about your feelings, they’ll just fester up inside of you and make you sick. It’s like having an invisible infection inside your heart and it never gets better unless you treat it.”

Alexis gave a stiff nod but remained quiet.

“I need to ask you something about Chloe.” At the mention of her baby sister, her demeanor became protective. Her little fists curled and he doubted she even realized it.

“What about Chloe?”

“Was your daddy mean to her?”

“Daddy was mean to all of us.”

“Yeah, I get that. He sure as hell ain’t up for Father of the Year but I mean did he pick on Chloe more than the rest of you?” At first Alexis seemed reluctant to answer, her small mouth compressed as if trying to hold back what wanted to fall out, so he waited. His patience was rewarded when Alexis started talking in a barely audible whisper.

“Yes,” she said, tears glittering in her eyes. “It got really bad when our mom left.”

“Do you know why?” he asked gently and Alexis shook her head. Drawing a deep breath, he asked the question that had been bothering him the most. “Do you think your daddy was trying to make Chloe sick?”

Alexis bit the side of her cheek and her face paled as she struggled to hold back the tears that welled in her eyes.

“It’s okay, you can tell me. I know you did your best to keep your sisters safe. Tell me what your daddy was doing to Chloe.”

Alexis gulped and when she spoke again her voice shook. “Special eggs. He made her eat eggs that he made special and they always made her sick. The last time, right before we left Arizona, I watched him as he made Chloe’s breakfast. He put something in it from under the kitchen sink and I know that’s not where we keep the salt and pepper. We only keep cleaning supplies down there. So I didn’t let her eat them.”

“How’d you do that?”

“When he wasn’t looking I switched our plates. I knew he hadn’t put anything in me and Taylor’s eggs and then I told him I didn’t feel good. I threw my eggs away. He didn’t care about me, but he made sure Chloe ate every bit on her plate before he’d let her get down from the table. I think my daddy—” She stopped on a painful sob and John felt her struggle as if it were his own. Alexis had confirmed his worst fear. The girls’ father had been trying to poison his youngest daughter.

He caught Alexis’s red-rimmed stare and made her a solemn promise. “You’re never going back to that man. And if your mom isn’t up to snuff…you aren’t going back to her, either. That okay with you?”

Her answer was slow in coming but he suspected it came straight from her heart as she nodded and said, “Fine by me.”

Good. First things first…“I’m friends with Sheriff Casey. You need to tell her everything you just told me.”

“Are you sure we’re not going to go back to Daddy?” she asked, her eyes scared.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Daddy was real mean to Chloe,” she said. “I’m afraid of what he’ll do if we go back. He told Chloe if she didn’t stop peeing her panties he’d put her outside like a dog because she smelled like one. He left her out there for hours in the rain. I went out and got her after he went to bed. It took all night to warm her up but the cough she has now…it’s from that night. Sometimes she coughs so hard, she can’t breathe.”

“I know, honey, that’s why I took her to the doc. She’s got some medicine and we’re taking care of that nasty cough so you don’t need to worry anymore,” he said, careful to keep his voice neutral and calm when inside he was to the boiling point. He couldn’t imagine little Chloe locked outside, shivering in the rain, crying for her sisters and huddled against the door while her father sat in relative comfort inside the house. God help him if John got his hands on that man. But for now, he needed to lift the weight from this little girl’s shoulders. “All right. Here’s the deal. Sheriff Casey is a good person. There’s no way you’re going back to your daddy after you tell her what you told me. But you have to be honest with her so she can help. Okay?”

Alexis nodded and wiped at the remaining tears glistening on her downy cheek. “Why did she leave us with him?” she asked quietly, more to herself than to John. Suddenly, she looked at him as if expecting an answer though he didn’t have one. “Maybe if she’d taken us with her…Chloe wouldn’t have been hurt.” She rose and glanced away, seeming much older than she really was. When she spoke again, her voice was cold. “I hate her. No one can make me love her again. Not you. Not anybody. I’ll hate her forever and it doesn’t matter if she’s changed.”