A Last Resort

by Brenda Sinclair

  “Very interesting and correct, although you aren’t a prisoner here. And that’s not enough information to prevent your parents or aunt and uncle from hurrying out here to pick you up. You should talk to me sooner than later. I promised Rachael an update tomorrow.”

  “I’m not going back!” Shelley blurted.

  They entered the guest room and Emma dumped the girl’s belongings on the upholstered storage chest at the foot of the bed. “Well, not tonight anyway. But you’d better still be in this bed tomorrow morning when I come to wake you for breakfast,” Emma warned.

  She glanced into the teen’s open backpack and noticed several paperbacks which explained the weight. The teen truly must enjoy reading. Had she packed most of her belongings? She seemed adamant she wasn’t returning home anytime soon. Emma couldn’t guess what the issue was. She doubted abuse or neglect were the reasons knowing Mike’s family, but recently something had definitely gone wrong in the teen’s world.

  “Do you promise?”

  Shelley nodded. “I’ll be here,” she muttered.

  Emma wrapped her arms around the teen and hugged her tightly, despite the pungent odor coming from her. Several days had passed since her last shower. “Good. I can’t ask more of you. And I trust you’ll keep your word.”

  Shelley clung to her, burying her face in Emma’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice quivering.

  “Enjoy a nice hot shower. A good night’s sleep will do wonders, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Emma smiled at the teen close to tears. “It’ll be all right. I’ll help you any way I can.”

  The girl nodded and grabbed a toiletries bag.

  “Is there anything you need right now? Girl stuff?” Emma whispered.

  Shelley smiled and shook her head. “I’m good.” And then she disappeared into the guest room ensuite.

  Chapter 13

  Emma returned to the kitchen where Lyndon awaited her.

  “Not what you expected?” he inquired, softly.

  “I considered the possibility we’d find a teen, but not a girl.”

  “I thought I was hearing things when she screamed. I knew right away our thief was female.” Lyndon shook his head. “I can’t even guess why she’s here.”

  “Me neither.”

  “What the heck are we going to do about this?” Lyndon threw up his hands. “We’ll have to turn her over to the cops in the morning.”

  “No way. We can’t do that. You’re so unfeeling. I promised Rachael her niece could stay here.” Emma shrugged. “And Shelley promised she wouldn’t leave.”

  “And you believe her? Just like that?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “She ran away from home, remember?” He scoffed and shook his head. “You’re being too soft on her.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You’re giving in to the kid.”

  “She trusts me.” Emma couldn’t believe the hard time he was giving her. They certainly didn’t agree on how to handle the situation. No wonder neither of them had kids. And she intended to leave it that way. To think her only problem when she first arrived at the cabin was sharing the place with an annoying carpenter and his dog. She shouldn’t have been so irritated at the idea. Now look what fate had dealt her?

  “Jake likes her, despite her yelling at him to stay away. Dogs are a good judge of people. Shelley seems like someone who’ll keep her word. Which is exactly what I told her.” Emma stuck a pod into the coffee maker. “We’ll learn more in the morning. Hopefully, why she ran away at the very least. She made a conscious decision to do it, or she wouldn’t have brought so much stuff along. She didn’t rush out the door on the spur of the moment.”

  “She doesn’t plan on returning would be my guess.” Lyndon polished off his beer. “At least, she doesn’t look… abused. No bruises. But I’d wager she wasn’t seeing eye to eye with her parents.”

  “Could be.” Emma poured a few ounces of Baileys into her coffee. “I need this if I’m going to face dealing with a teenager.”

  Lyndon chuckled. “Suddenly, being Mom to Jake doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

  “Did argue that point, didn’t I?” Emma smiled. “I should have quit while I was ahead.”

  “You’ll do fine. You’re female. She’s female. Before I know it, the two of you will be hitting it off like you’ve known each other for ages.”

  “Promise?” Emma heaved a sigh. “Finding her in that shed was a shock. I’m still running on adrenaline. I’m going to write for a while before turning in.”

  “I’ve locked up, so go ahead whenever you’re ready. But I’m hitting the sack now. See you in the morning.” Lyndon headed toward the door. “I hope our ‘guest’ is still here for breakfast. Otherwise, her parents won’t be too happy.”

  “She promised. I believe her.” Emma grabbed her laptop. “See you tomorrow. Breakfast for three.”

  “Pancakes?”

  Emma burst into laughter. “For you? Or to ensure Shelley sticks around?”

  “Either or both. As long as we get pancakes.” Lyndon winked at her and then followed her out of the room with Jake on his heels. At least, the dog slept in his own bed in his owner’s room every night. One concession for hanging out with Emma all day.

  Emma settled on her favorite sofa in the family room and opened her laptop. She’d write until her eyes started to close and then she’d head off to bed. She sipped the coffee and chuckled. The coffee might have kept her awake if it wasn’t laden with that generous portion of alcohol. She read the chapter she’d been working on and lost herself in her writing in no time at all.

  “Emma?”

  She startled despite the softly uttered word. She looked up into a pair of troubled brown eyes staring back at her. “What is it, sweetie?”

  “I… I can’t sleep,” Shelley whispered.

  Emma patted the sofa cushion beside her. She glanced at the time on her laptop. Almost one a.m. Where had the time gone?

  Shelley grabbed a toss cushion and seated herself, hugging the cushion to her chest. “I’m so tired I can’t think straight, but I just toss and turn.”

  “You’re probably overtired. I don’t imagine you slept too well in that shed.”

  She shook her head. “A couple hours here and there. Nearly froze the first night until I found two all-weather sleeping bags in one of the plastic storage containers.”

  Emma sighed. She’d have to fetch the sleeping bags from the shed in the morning and arrange to have them cleaned. “How long were you in there anyway?”

  “Three nights. Friday, Saturday and last night. Seemed like weeks.” Shelley grinned. “My own fault, right?”

  “Why didn’t you… you thought we’d send you back,” Emma said, completing her own question.

  “Yeah, and there’s no way I’m going back to Vancouver.”

  Emma flipped the top closed on her laptop and set it on the coffee table. She grabbed Jake’s favorite thick plush throw from the sofa back. “Snuggle up in this and talk to me until you’re ready to doze off.”

  Shelley wrapped herself up without complaint. “Why are you being so nice to me?” she whispered.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Emma tucked her legs under her and got comfortable on the other end of the sofa. She sipped her cold coffee. No way would she waste the Baileys. “It’s not like you’re wanted by the law or anything. You left a situation that in your opinion was no longer tolerable. Am I right?”

  Shelley yawned and snuggled farther into the cover, pulling it up to her chin. “Totally. No one would listen to me.”

  “By no one I take it you mean one or both of your parents.” Emma caught herself yawning. The doctored coffee was doing the trick, relaxing her mind also.

  “Yeah, but…”

  “You’re not ready to talk about it,” Emma said, guessing where their conversation was no longer going.

  “You’ll email Aunt Rachael. And she’ll tell my parents. And then they’ll come and insist I return home with th
em.” Shelley heaved a sigh. “Then I’ll have to run away somewhere else.”

  “No room for compromise?”

  “None. Not as far as my dad is concerned.” Shelley’s eyes drooped.

  Emma reached out and patted the teen’s knee. “Come on. I’ll tuck you in. I’m ready to doze off myself. We’ll talk in the morning over pancakes.”

  Shelley grinned, eyes alight with sudden interest. “And bacon?”

  “I’m vegetarian.”

  “Oh…” Her smile disappeared.

  “Lyndon, on the other hand, has a dozen packages in the freezer. I’ll take one out to thaw,” Emma conceded.

  “Yes!” Shelley clambered off the sofa, balling the blanket in her arms. “I’m taking this with me. See you for breakfast.”

  “Goodnight,” Emma called as the teen swept out of the room, carrying the plush throw. Jake loved the darn thing, too, and spent his afternoons snuggled in it and snoring up a storm while she wrote. She hadn’t the heart to take the people blanket away from him.

  Emma dug a package of bacon out of the freezer and set it in the sink to thaw overnight. She popped her head into Shelley’s room to discover the teen was sound asleep, no tucking in required. In sleep, the teen looked angelic. Not a trace of worry remained on her face. Emma couldn’t imagine what had occurred at her home to cause the teen to leave. Thankfully, she’d arrived here safe and sound, considering all the danger she could have found herself in. And she seemed like such a nice kid.

  Emma padded off to her own room, brushed her teeth and flossed, and then crawled into bed. She couldn’t imagine what awaited her in the morning. So far she’d learned that the teen ran away last weekend, came directly here somehow, and she had an ongoing issue beyond compromise with her dad. “You couldn’t pay me to be a teenager again,” Emma muttered, switching off the bedside lamp. She snuggled up to her chin in the luxurious bedding and yawned.

  Coffee and Baileys, good for what ails you. She chuckled in the darkness. She could write company mottos. Then again, until she arrived here and met Lyndon, her new muse, she’d experienced enough angst writing her romance novel. Better stick to what she knew best.

  Unfortunately, it appeared she’d soon gain some experience in counseling a runaway teenager. This trip just got better and better. If she didn’t know otherwise, she’d swear the romance gods were out to get her.

  Chapter 14

  Emma heard her bedroom door open, the one hinge requiring a bit of lubrication. She’d roused from sleep a few minutes ago but hadn’t bothered to open her eyes or emerge from beneath the cozy bedcovers.

  “Rise and shine,” a cheerful young voice sang.

  Emma’s eyes popped open. “Hello.”

  “Good morning. Breakfast will be served in five minutes so hustle it up,” Shelley called on her way out the door again.

  “What?” Emma sat bolt upright in bed. “Who cooked?”

  “I did. Hurry up!”

  Emma couldn’t have heard her right. Shelley had cooked breakfast? But the scent of bacon wafted through the cabin to her nose. Her vegetarian convictions were being tested again as she inhaled the delightful scent. “Why am I eating clean again?” she muttered to herself. If she didn’t watch it, she’d gain ten pounds living here. And her vegetarian personal trainer would disown her.

  Five minutes later, she appeared in the kitchen, dressed in jeans and the long-sleeved red plaid shirt she wore to the Calgary Stampede every year. “Something smells wonderful,” she observed, heading for the coffee maker.

  “Just brewed you a cup,” Lyndon called from the dining room. “It’s at your place already.”

  “Doctored?”

  “To the nines. Might need a seatbelt to keep you in your chair while you eat breakfast.”

  She chuckled but doubted he was teasing. He’d watched her adding Baileys to her mug last night. She wandered into the dining room and discovered Lyndon and Shelley fully dressed in casual clothes and seated across from each other. Two platters occupied the center of the table, one filled with pancakes and the other with bacon and fried eggs. A basket of blueberry muffins and a jug of juice sat near Shelley, and Lyndon was sipping a cup of coffee.

  “This is a surprise,” she exclaimed, seating herself at her usual place, happy she’d donned clothes this morning.

  “You guys were so nice to me last night. And I love to cook. I thought it was the least I could do.” Shelley shrugged. “Lyndon said you do all the cooking. This is all right, isn’t it?”

  “Of course, it’s all good. I don’t mind a morning off,” Emma said, reassuring the teen. And she’d only recently returned to cooking duty. She took a sip of her coffee and her eyes almost started to water. He’d doctored her brew all right. She winked at Lyndon. “Yum, thank you.”

  He burst into laughter and then faked a cough to cover his response. “So, chef, can we dish up? I’m starving.”

  “Go ahead.”

  He pointed to one of the platters. “The cook first.”

  Shelley served herself and then passed the platters to Emma who followed suit and forwarded them along to Lyndon. Emma almost groaned when she tasted the fluffy pancakes. “This is no mix. These are delicious.”

  “Mix! Scratch cooking is best. And I love to create new dishes.” Shelley ate with gusto.

  Emma smiled. The kid probably hadn’t the luxury of a proper meal since running away from home days ago. Cheese and crackers, yogurt, granola bars, a few apples. Not much to sustain a growing teen. “What are you doing around five o’clock? You could make dinner if you want,” she teased. Well, unless the teen offered to take her up on the suggestion.

  “If you don’t haul me into town to the cop shop, I’ll cook dinner.” Shelley beamed. “I’ll have to check out the fridge first. I make a mean chili if you like it mild. I don’t do that take-out-your-tonsils-on-the-way-down stuff.”

  “I love a mild Tex-Mex chili. Sounds perfect.” Lyndon polished off his breakfast and grabbed the platters for seconds.

  Emma nodded. “I’m sold. I can spend more time on my book.”

  “Are you writing something new?” Shelley dropped her fork and gasped. “You are, aren’t you? That’s why you’re here. Authors go places to be alone and write.”

  “Guilty.”

  “Beth is never going to believe this,” Shelley gushed.

  Lyndon frowned. “Who’s Beth?”

  “My best friend. We’re like sisters. She’s the only person I told… what I was planning.” Shelley’s face reddened. “She can’t believe there’s no cell service here. No texting. We’ve been emailing each other every day. She knows where I am and that I’m okay.”

  “Do your parents know Beth?”

  Shelley shook her head. “Beth and her family only moved to Vancouver six months ago. My parents are too busy to worry about my friends, or me.”

  Emma glanced at Lyndon. The latter was no doubt an exaggeration but a familiar enough claim. Parents were inundated with responsibilities: jobs, kids, after-school activities, homework and chores, weekend sports. She had no idea how they handled all of it. Another reason she’d remained happily single and childless by choice. She’d never had even a twinge of desire to become a mother. And considering her track record with men, just as well.

  “I’m glad you have Beth in your corner. Everyone needs that one special friend to see them through the tough times.” Emma smiled. “I don’t know what I’d do without Rachael.”

  “She’s really great. For an old person,” Shelley agreed.

  Emma choked on her coffee. Old person? Seriously? She and Rachael were the same age, university alumni from the same year. “I’ll do the dishes since you cooked while I did the sleeping beauty thing.”

  “I’m heading out to the garage. Got a hammer calling my name.” Lyndon grabbed his dirty dishes and headed for the kitchen.

  Shelley smirked. “You’ve got him well trained. Takes his dishes to the dishwasher willingly. My dad never remembers and it driv
es Mom crazy.”

  Emma shrugged. “He came already trained by someone.” She recalled mention of an ex-wife. Who dressed to the nines. And perhaps came with a raving case of OCD as well and Lyndon went along with her demands and habits.

  “Do you mind if I email Beth?” Shelley looked at Emma, expectantly. “Then I’ll come help with the dishes.”

  “Sure. Say hi from me,” Emma added, winking.

  Shelley giggled. “She’ll be delighted to hear you’re thinking of her.”

  “Smart mouth kid.”

  Shelley burst out laughing. “That’s me. Smart. A-student.”

  “Not what I meant.” Emma grabbed the empty platters. “Scram. I’ll take a package of ground chicken out of the freezer for your chili. If we’re lucky, Lyndon won’t notice he’s not getting beef.”

  “Thanks, Emma,” Shelley called as she raced down the hallway.

  Emma paused, watching the teen disappear from sight. She couldn’t believe how much she’d enjoyed breakfast with Lyndon and Shelley. The pleasant conversation, the easy banter, and joining in with the teasing had been fun. The runaway’s belligerence from last night had disappeared, replaced by a happy smiling teenager. Emma grabbed her coffee mug. Having her own family might not prove an intolerable thing, after all. If the husband was as easygoing and kindhearted as Lyndon and her kids turned out as nice as Shelley. Yeah, right. She was thirty-three with no husband prospects on the horizon, and it would be years before her kids would turn fifteen.

  Forget it.

  But for now, she’d enjoy playing make-believe with these two. They even had a dog to complete the pretend picture. What more could she ask for?

  * * *

  Sanity. That’s what she’d ask for. Shelley played her music at ear-piercing volume. Lyndon hammered and operated that damn saw all day long. Emma needed twenty-four hours of living in a complete vacuum to restore her equilibrium. Silence. Total quiet. That’s what she would ask for, if anyone would even hear her plea above the pandemonium her life had become.