In Search of Solace (Rebel Wayfarers MC)

by MariaLisa deMora

  Sharon’s gaze flicked past the camera and into the distance, the smile stretching her lips loving and kind. “My boy will never be too big for Momma’s lap.”

  “Might want to check that wish before tossing it out into the universe. Have you seen the size of the boy’s daddy?” Vanna tossed the towel over the line and left it there for now, walking slowly towards the house. “I’ll be back in a minute, Myrt. Leave me some work to do, okay?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The girl’s unwavering politeness was lost in the quiet tension held in her words, and Vanna glanced to see Myrt’s shoulders had pulled in, her head dipped down and to the side as if avoiding a blow.

  “God bless,” she murmured and sighed as she stepped into the kitchen. “What’s shakin’, Shar?” On the phone, Sharon’s brows drew together. “I’ll tell you all about my visitor as soon as you dish on why you called me today.” Something she’d intended to do over the past couple of weeks, but each call had been cut short by one child or another needing something. “So, the faster you give me whatever it is you’ve got to tell me, the sooner you hear all about my adventures.”

  “You’re something else, Vanna.” The phone traveled away from Sharon’s face, and Vanna saw the edge of a table as the device was wedged into place. This’ll be a longer conversation, then. “Josh didn’t want to look for bugs because Kitten put worms in his bed, and he didn’t see them before climbing under the covers. They squished, and you know how he feels about hurting anything.”

  “Kitten did that?” Vanna didn’t try to contain her laughter. “Does she know that’s not nice?”

  “Oh, yeah, she knows now. Doesn’t help Josh’s guilt over smushing a half a dozen earthworms. You should have seen his face when Gunny was talking about taking him fishing soon and demonstrated how to bait his hook. It was only a gummy worm, but my poor Joshie was traumatized.” Sharon’s eye roll revealed exactly how she felt about her husband’s efforts with their son. “Gunny sometimes doesn’t know what to do with our sensitive child.”

  “Hey, now, Cade’s plenty sensitive.” The oldest girl was the caretaker of the trio, had been since Kitten had been born, persistently bringing her baby sister all her favorite toys and blankets until Gunny had explained Kitten had her own things. “Kitten’s the one who’s misnamed, for sure.”

  “More like a roaring lion than a purring kitten,” Sharon agreed. “I thought middle kids were supposed to be the peacemakers. Why isn’t she more about making sure everyone’s okay?”

  “Because she takes after her mother.” Sharon’s expression of fake shock had Vanna laughing again. “No, she’s Gunny all over again. I bet if we could talk to his grandmother, we’d find a lot in common.”

  “Yeah. I’m glad the kids have my folks as well as Jase and his family, but I feel like we’re all missing out because they don’t have the same connections on Daddy’s side of the family.” Sharon shook her head, strands of hair escaping her messy bun to trail along her cheeks. “It’s good they’ve got Vanna Mom, too. You help keep us all balanced.”

  “Think you can peel him loose anytime soon and come for a visit?” Vanna hoped but didn’t expect she’d be successful. It was worth a little wheedling, though, just in case. “Vanna Mom misses her kids. I miss you and Gunny, too, but man, I miss those kids.”

  “Unlikely. He’s in Milwaukee this week and will be in Kansas City the next. They’ve got him roaming all over to help keep things smooth with all the change that’s happening.”

  Gunny was an officer in the Rebel Wayfarers motorcycle club. He was based out of Fort Wayne, Indiana, where Sharon was calling from today, but traveled wherever the club needed him. Vanna understood, probably more than most, because Truck was also a member, based out of the Little Rock clubhouse but given special dispensation to stay close to home most of the time.

  Most of the time. Vanna glanced up at the clock, mentally counting down the hours until Truck’s bike would roll into the driveway. “Truck’s over in Adken again. That new chapter is taking a lot of his time these days. He was in Texas a couple of weeks ago, and when he got back, I’d hoped he’d be home for a while, but Sparks asked for him by name.” Sparks was the president of a club that had been absorbed by the Rebel Wayfarers MC only a few months ago, a transition that had gone smoothly, all things considered. The same day the club had patched in, a prominent member of another club had patched over, all of which raised the tension level considerably.

  “It’s always something.” Sharon’s smile was tinged with sadness and didn’t linger long on her lips. “So what if I could bring me and the kids, but no Gunny?”

  “I’ll take it. When can you be here?”

  “Depends. What kind of company do you have and how long will they be there?”

  Tit for tat. Vanna wouldn’t have expected any less. As possessive as she was over Sharon and her family, it was returned tenfold. “Myrtle is a young lady who found herself in a situation. One I was in a position to help her escape. She’s been with me for a few weeks—” Sharon’s brows rose at the revelation, probably because Vanna hadn’t mentioned the girl before. “Don’t do that. Every time we get on the phone lately, there’s an emergency. This might be the longest conversation we’ve had since I don’t know when.”

  Sharon smoothed out her features and nodded. “Carry on, please.” Her regal tone had Vanna chuckling.

  A shadow crossed the porch, and Vanna sighed, then pitched her voice to carry. “So Myrt’s been with me for a while, and I hope she’ll stay a long, long time. I enjoy the company, and she’s a huge help around the house.” Myrt’s head appeared around the corner of the open door, chin still angled down to hide her expression. The basket in her hands was filled with folded towels, which meant she had not only hung up all the wet ones but also finished taking down the dry ones. “Wanna meet her? Come here, Myrt. Let me introduce you to my daughter, Sharon.” Vanna stood and turned her back towards the girl, holding up the phone as if she were taking a selfie, trying to capture both of them in the frame. “Sharon, this is Myrtle, my new house companion. Myrt, this is Sharon. You’ve heard me talk about her and the kids, and her mess of a husband, Gunny.”

  “Pleased.” Myrt’s head bobbed, and she weaved to the side, around Vanna, and into the house before Sharon got a chance to respond.

  “You sure you want the tribe to come and stay for a few days? I won’t take offense if you say you’ve got your hands full, Vanna.”

  “Not a chance, girlie. Bring on the chaos.” Vanna smiled out the window, her imagination bringing the scene to life with children playing hide-and-seek among the laundry drying in the bright sunshine. She returned her gaze to the phone’s screen to see a fondly amused expression on Sharon’s face. “When do you think you can make it here?”

  “I’ll call Gunny when I hang up and make sure he can’t come, then I’ll text you. Probably Saturday if that suits?” Sharon’s head tipped to the side, and she bit her bottom lip. “I miss you like crazy, Vanna Mom.”

  “Sooner if you can make it, but Saturday will work.” Vanna felt her shoulders drop as she relaxed and confided, “I can’t wait.”

  ***

  Vanna

  “Hello?” Vanna blinked up at her ceiling, the surface lost in the darkness of night invading her bedroom. Fear trilled its uncomfortable electric feeling up and down her back, causing her toes to curl. She hadn’t looked at the phone’s screen before answering, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Early morning calls were always picked up.

  “Vanna, darlin’?”

  She took a breath to steady her nerves. “Truck? Is everything okay?” Thank God it’s him. If anyone else had spoken in her ear, she would have assumed the worst. Her mind wandered. “Is Kitt okay? Did someone call you?”

  “No, darlin’. Nothing’s wrong. It’s all good, all good, baby.” Truck’s voice was pitched to soothe and comfort. She knew he’d never lie to her, so it couldn’t be anything with her son.

  “Then what’s going on that’d
have you calling me—” She shifted the phone to see the screen, then put the speaker to her mouth again. “—at three in the morning. Something’s wrong, even if it’s not you or Kitt.”

  “Sharon’s on her way down—”

  “Oh, God. She’s got all the kids with her. Is she okay? Are the kids okay?” Imagined scenes of wrecked and mangled vehicles filled her mind, tiny bodies flung hither and yon inside the van. “Please tell me they’re okay.”

  “Vanna, darlin’, if you’d let me get more than a couple of words out, you’d already know they broke down.”

  “Oh, no. She’s got the babies. Truck, where is she?” Vanna levered herself off the mattress, scurrying towards the closet. “I can be dressed in half a minute and on my way in a minute more. Where am I going?”

  “Truck, you need to let Momma know they’re safe and have roadside comin’.” The voice in the background was well known and loved. And surprisingly calm if Sharon and the kids are in trouble. Gunny wasn’t known for keeping his shit together when his family was involved.

  “Is that Lane? Can he tell me what’s going on, since you obviously don’t have the right information?” Balancing on one foot, she managed to tug a sock into place, only hopping once or twice. “Gunny! What’s going on?”

  “Jesus, Truck.” Gunny’s laughter settled her in ways nothing else would have. No way would he be laughing if his family were in peril. “Just tell her.”

  “I’m fuckin’ tryin’, you jackass. Now back the fuck off before I slap you silly.” Truck’s growled words settled Vanna even more. “Momma, you still there?”

  “Yeah, Truck. I’m here. Take your time.” She sat on the edge of the bed, holding the other sock in her hands. Now that the urgency of the situation seemed to have fled, she found her situation amusing. “I’ve got one sock on and the other off, a shirt but no bra. I got nowhere to be but here, so you tell me what you need.”

  “No bra?” Truck’s tease was clear and made her grin.

  “Jesus, Truck, don’t do a sex call right now.” That was an unexpected voice, and unlike Gunny’s, it wasn’t in the background but on the call.

  “Blackie? Oh, honey, it’s good to hear from you.” Blackie was one of Vanna’s oldest friends, someone she’d turned to for advice time and again over the years. He lived with his wife over in Northeast Texas. “What’re you doing up this time of day?”

  “Waiting on Truck to let you know you’re going to have an unexpected visitor.” He chuckled, the sound dark and rumbling through the phone’s speakers. “And listening to you losin’ your shit. Not something I’ve been exposed to frequent-like, so it’s interesting to hear.”

  “Don’t you start, too, Blackie.” Truck sounded even more annoyed now, which was surprising because she knew the two men were friends.

  “Hey, you’re the one called me for a favor, man. I’m owed a little bit of repayment for makin’ me drag my ass outta bed this time of the morning. I’m on Central, remember, so it’s early as fuck here.”

  “Can someone please tell me what’s going on with Sharon?” A shadow at her doorway had her heart beating fast again until she recognized the silhouette as her houseguest. “Myrt, come on in, honey. Might as well make a party of it.” Vanna patted the corner of the mattress, and when the girl settled in, wrapped an arm around her and pulled her tight. “Truck’s just about to give me some good news.”

  “You’re going to have an unexpected visitor.” Blackie dove right in, as Truck sputtered in the background. “Dispatched one of my men to help Sharon, and he’ll be riding the rest of the way with her, to make sure they don’t run into any additional issues.”

  “Who?” Vanna knew most of Blackie’s club by name and had a good relationship with all the men.

  “Bane’s comin’. He was close when we got the request for assistance, so easiest for Blackie to ship him over to help.” Truck was apparently trying to regain control over the call. “He’s a good guy.”

  “I know. I’ve met him. Sweet boy.” Myrt stirred at her side and stood before walking to the doorway and miming drinking from a mug. Vanna nodded her support of what she imagined was making a pot of coffee, watching the girl disappear into the shadows near the top of the stairs. “I’ll get a room ready for him. You’re sure Sharon and the kids are okay?”

  “Yeah, darlin’. I promise. You think Gunny’d be willing to hang out here otherwise?”

  A deep tone said something with a grumble in the background, and Vanna smiled, shaking her head.

  “No, I don’t suppose he would.” She lay back on the bed, curling onto her side, wrapping herself around the phone. “So tell me about your day? I feel like it’s forever since we got to talk.”

  “I’d rather talk about you not wearing a bra.” Truck lowered his voice an octave, adding a teasing tone.

  “And that’s my cue to hang up.” Blackie laughed. “Later, Peepers.”

  “Later, my friend.” There was a click and a hum; then the call returned to normal. “So, what do you want to know about my current braless state?”

  Chapter Four

  Myrtle

  Tires crunching on gravel caught Myrt’s attention, and she stood from the side of the bed to angle towards the window, looking down at the driveway in front of the house. Fear trilled through her for an instant at the sight of the unfamiliar vehicle.The side door opened before the van had even come to a complete stop, and three children poured from the inside, followed immediately by three dogs of varying sizes. The fear was swallowed by amazement as Vanna appeared, kneeling in the front yard as she swept all three kids into her embrace.

  A tiny woman who had to be Sharon exited the van’s passenger door, more slowly than the kids had, but still with some speed as she trotted to the heap of kids now piled on a reclining Vanna, the tangle of arms and legs spread out on the grass. Laughter seeped in around the closed window, and Myrt grinned as Sharon scolded the kids before realizing Vanna had instigated the dogpile. Then the actual dogs angled in from the side, adding to the confusion as they barked excitedly and pressed close.

  More movement at the van caught Myrt’s attention, and she froze in place as a man climbed out of the driver seat, closing the door with a firm press of his hand. He didn’t look anything like she’d expected. She’d known it wouldn’t be Gunny, the man in so many photos Vanna had on her walls, pictures of this family she claimed as her own. Having heard a multitude of tales about the love story that was Sharon and Gunny, Myrt couldn’t imagine what it would have been like to be a stranger traveling so far with Sharon and her kids.

  She stepped closer to the window, and his head jerked up, aimed right at her. Steely blue eyes pinned her in place, and she stared into the most handsome face she’d ever seen on a man. Grizzled scruff softened the edges of his jaw, and his inky hair was scarcely long enough to curl behind his ears, the symmetry of his features adding to his perfection.

  A voice called, and he looked away. Myrt felt a profound relief, breaths whooshing in and out of her lungs as if she’d been held underwater for long minutes, only allowed to surface just before she drowned.

  Edging to the side, she used one finger to pull the curtain out an inch, giving her a narrow view of the front yard. The man, who looked younger than Sharon as he stood next to her, stretched out a hand to Vanna and helped her recover her feet with three kids still holding tightly to her. He looked pointedly up at the window Myrt had vacated and said something that had Sharon and Vanna looking up, too. Myrt felt like the worst of frauds as she kept hiding, but nothing she could say to herself was enough encouragement to reveal herself again. Something about the man had her panicked, and she hated the way her heart trip-trapped in her chest, tattooing out a beat of retreat.

  Vanna spoke to them, the kids’ arms wrapped around her legs and waist, their affection clear. Then the women, kids, and dogs all turned as a unit and headed for the front door. The man looked back up at the window, gave a slow nod as if he knew Myrt still watched, and returne
d to the van. He opened up the back at the same time a cacophony of sounds made their way up the stairs, indicating Vanna and the Robinson crew had entered the house.

  “So stupid.” Myrt rested her forehead against the back of her hand, keeping one eye locked on the man as he retrieved suitcases and backpacks from the cargo area of the van. “Vanna said Sharon would understand.”

  “I do.” Myrt’s argument with herself was interrupted by the unfamiliar voice at her door, and she swung around to stare slack-jawed at Sharon. Shoulder to the doorframe, the slight woman looked harmless enough. “You don’t have anything to fear from me, Myrtle.” Myrt glanced away, back towards the window, then pointedly returned her gaze to Sharon’s face. “You don’t have anything to fear from anyone here. Vanna’s house is the safest place I know. It’s always been my sanctuary when things get hard. I wouldn’t bring anyone here who would threaten this place, or what it means to me.”

  Myrt chewed her bottom lip and nodded, dropping her gaze to the floor.

  Sharon continued talking as if Myrt trying to blend into the background wasn’t unusual. “Willy’s a real good guy. When I told Gunny I was driving down, he didn’t want me and the kids on the road by ourselves. I took off on my own anyway and then had trouble a few hundred miles back. Willy dropped everything and came to help. Made it so I could come see Vanna. So my kids could see their Vanna Mom.” Sharon shifted, and Myrt flicked her gaze up to see she’d pushed away from the doorframe, standing straight. In her expression, Myrt saw the fierceness Vanna had spoken of with such love, explaining the source of it was Sharon’s story to tell but that her girl had come a long way from when Vanna had first met her. “And if he makes you uncomfortable in any way, you tell me. He’ll answer for anything he does. I swear to you on the oath of the sisterhood.”

  That was odd enough Myrt had to ask, “Oath of the sisterhood?”

  “Uh-huh.” Sharon nodded, the fierce expression never wavering. “It’s the ‘sisters before misters’ oath. Us girls have to stand together, and that means I’ll have your back, Myrtle.”