Home for Her Family (9781460341186)

by Carmichael, Virginia

  “Mrs. Guzman is gone. There’s no one to watch the girls.”

  “You’ll have to bring them.” He was white and there were dark smudges on one cheek. She wasn’t sure if it was grease or bruises and was afraid to look too closely.

  “Pancho, are you serious?” She choked back her anger. “They can’t go there.”

  He looked around, running a hand through his crew cut. The fingers of one hand were tattooed with numbers and Sabrina wondered what it meant. “They can stay in the car. I’ll be outside with them.”

  “It’s the middle of the night.” She was shaking her head. “I can’t wake them up.”

  He stepped closer, breathing heavily. “You opened the door. You knew what I needed. You can leave them here, sleeping, or bring them along. That’s all I can offer you.”

  Her breath stopped in her lungs. Would he harm her? Was he that desperate? She swallowed hard. If she left them and something happened to her, they would be alone until someone came to check on them, or they left to go find her. If she brought them along, they could be hurt.

  Sweat broke out on her forehead and her knees started to shake. She was going to have to leave them. And pray that she would be back before they woke. Her mind flashed to Jack and for just a moment, she thought about calling him. But how could she possibly explain? He would never understand how she could be part of this.

  “Okay. Let me get my toolbox.” Her heart was pounding so loudly her vision was blurring. Stuffing her feet into her shoes and stripping off her robe, she pulled on her coat.

  “Thank you, thank you,” Pancho breathed, relief making him sag against the doorjamb.

  She grabbed her keys and walked through the door. Turning to lock up from the outside, she paused. Her hands were sweaty, her mouth was dry. She was doing what she’d promised she would never do: she was leaving her nieces. Alone.

  * * *

  Sabrina jumped from Pancho’s car and raced for the apartment entrance. Please, Lord, let them be okay. It had only been a few hours and the sky was still dark.

  She barely heard Pancho driving away from the curb. What she had seen tonight had been just as shocking, but no longer a surprise. The same group of people, the same arrogant boss with dead eyes, the same stench of fear. There was nothing she could do but work as quickly as she could to fix the machine. She was just as trapped as they were, and this time she had put her nieces in a terrible position.

  Running up the flights of stairs, her toolbox banging against her leg, Sabrina felt her lungs searing with every breath. Please, please, please.

  She was almost weeping with anxiety as she worked the locks on her front door and swung it inward. Everything was quiet. The living room was dark. She set the toolbox on the carpet and bolted the door, sliding the chain on for good measure. It wouldn’t keep the nightmares away, but for now, it was all she had.

  Creeping down the hallway, she peeked into the tiny room where Kassey and Gabby slept. The floor showed dark shapes where the girls had dropped toys and not picked them up. She navigated the room in darkness and leaned into the bottom bunk, reaching out a hand to smooth the hair from Gabby’s forehead. Her covers were kicked to the end of the bed and Sabrina brought them back up, tucking them tightly around her shoulders.

  The little girl sighed deeply in her sleep. Sabrina straightened up and peered into the top bunk. Kassey was there, hunched into her blankets. She laid a hand on Kassey’s soft hair, whispering a prayer of thanks.

  For now, they were safe. But something had to be done. She couldn’t keep running to help the slave laborers, as if she was their personal mechanic. When they moved to the Mission, Pancho couldn’t get to her in the middle of the night, but they still would have to leave for school and work. She and the girls couldn’t hide in the Mission all day. She had become part of the business, another cog in the wheel of fear and silence, and that had to change.

  Sabrina walked to the kitchen and sat at the table in the dark. She had to come up with some way to expose the group without putting the girls in any more danger than they already were. Otherwise, she might as well give up.

  The sky was turning light at the edges before she finally rose from the table, her muscles protesting stiffly. She had to find a way out of this nightmare before it consumed them the same way it had Pancho and all the people she had seen huddled in the warehouse tonight.

  Chapter Eight

  Lana waved from behind the desk. “Sabrina’s already here. The girl is making you look bad.”

  Jack grinned. He was usually the one to help Gavin set up and now he was sliding in at the last minute. “That’s nothing new, Lana. I’m getting used to it.”

  She raised her eyebrows at him and he kept on going. It was true—Sabrina made him look like a slacker, even though she didn’t mean to. She made him want to be a better person and he couldn’t fault her for that.

  The gym was crowded with kids already. Gavin stood in the middle of the room, giving a talk to four little boys. Jack fought a smile. He recognized those kids. They had energy to burn and unfortunately that included never stopping to learn the rules.

  Sabrina was helping a line of kids into colored mesh jerseys. She glanced up and froze, hands holding out a shirt for a blond-haired girl. Sabrina looked the same as always—ponytail, shorts, running shoes—but he couldn’t tear his gaze away. She smiled and looked back to the little girl who stood patiently, arms up, waiting for Sabrina to put her jersey on. Jack was only feet away now and he saw the blush that crept into Sabrina’s cheeks.

  A flare of happiness went through him at the sight. A woman didn’t blush for no reason.

  “Glad you finally decided to join us,” Gavin said as the boys scattered into the main area of the gym.

  “Sorry. I had a meeting then had to run home to change. Plus, you have help now. I knew you wouldn’t have to pull Jose in here to assist.”

  Gavin fell into step beside him as they headed for the end of the gym. “You’re right, I do have help, and that’s why I thought you’d be here early.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  Jack shot him a look. “That’s not happening.” He didn’t bother to say Gavin was absolutely correct in thinking Jack wanted to be here every moment that Sabrina was.

  “Why not?” Gavin glanced back at Sabrina. “If Evie and I can make our way through our issues, then you guys should have no problem.”

  He nodded. Gavin and Evie had an incredibly complicated history, involving family secrets, newspapers, media and two people who had learned to forgive and forget. “Maybe it’s easier to get around problems in the past than problems in the present.”

  “You mean because she’s poor?” Gavin crossed his arms over his chest. The look on his face almost made Jack laugh. Almost. He didn’t like what his best friend was implying.

  “Let me say it this way...” He paused, thinking hard. “I have less of a problem with her being poor than she has with me being rich.” At least he hoped that was the issue. Maybe she thought he was a lazy, spoiled guy who spent his days snowboarding instead of working.

  To his surprise, Gavin nodded. “I can see that. She’s proud. She won’t take any help unless she’s desperate. And I admire her for that.”

  “I do, too. But I also wish...” He shrugged. They knew there would always be people milking the system for all it was worth, but those people were rare, and the mission believed in focusing on the ones who really needed the help. Some of those people would only accept help at the very lowest point. He hoped that never happened to Sabrina, but he knew what a struggle it was to support the girls alone.

  “We’d better get started,” Gavin said. The next two hours were filled with shrieks, laughter and lots of flying soccer balls. Through it all Jack struggled to focus on the kids and not the beautiful young woman who brought such a light to the team.

 
; * * *

  “Thanks for helping again,” Jack said.

  Sabrina turned, fighting the impulse to give him a head-to-toe scan. She was a sweaty mess and he looked as though he was ready for a photo shoot. “It’s a lot of fun. It gives me something to do other than sit around and worry.”

  “You do a lot of worrying?” His dark brows drew down. He couldn’t imagine how she must feel, getting ready to move to the mission.

  She mentally kicked herself. She must sound as if she was whining. “Yes, but it’s my own fault. Everything can be going along perfectly and I can still find something to worry about.”

  He grinned and for a moment, her brain stopped working. Those dimples must give him an unfair advantage in the world. No one could resist him when he smiled like that.

  “We’re opposite that way, I suppose,” he said. “I always figure everything will work out. I don’t waste energy on what can’t be fixed right now.”

  She nodded and didn’t say what she was thinking. Everything must work out eventually in Jack’s life because his problems were probably whether there would be enough snow for the weekend’s snowboarding. The next moment she regretted her uncharitable thoughts. She didn’t know much about him, really. He could have much bigger problems than she knew.

  “Hey, you two,” Gavin called out to them, “can you go out to the courtyard and pick up a few folding chairs? Lana says the preschool teachers forgot them when they were directing some outdoor games this afternoon.”

  “No problem.” Jack was already moving toward the door.

  Sabrina glanced back at the girls, not wanting to leave them alone, even for a few minutes. The mission was full of good people, but there were also adults struggling with addictions and abuse. Sabrina knew enough about that sort of brokenness to never want to leave her girls alone. It was taking a risk that could turn out to be disastrous. She hesitated, watching them.

  “Lana, can you watch the girls for a moment?” Jack called over. The secretary looked up and smiled, pointing to the girls and then to herself. Gavin walked to another row of chairs against the far wall and the kids ran to slide them back into position. He was busy and if he got distracted, Lana would be another layer of protection against the darker parts of mission life.

  Sabrina felt a rush of emotion at Jack’s foresight. It was the sort of thing a dad would do, if they had one. She felt her throat tighten at the thought. Her nieces deserved so much more than an aunt playing fill-in until their mom wandered back into town. To see a stranger take the time to make sure they were safe, even for a moment, left her fighting back the wave of gratitude. It didn’t help to tell herself that he hadn’t done that because he felt the girls were special, that he would have done it for any small child. In fact, it made her like him even more. Jack was just that type of man—caring, watchful, circumspect. The opposite of the sort of man she’d grown up with as a father and that the girls had never known as a parent.

  She pushed away the emotional storm battering her heart. She hadn’t slept a moment since Pancho had dropped her off last night and she’d spent every free moment packing their things. Sabrina gave herself a tiny pep talk and put the toolbox back in the supply closet.

  He pushed open the far door and they exited into a small grassy area. Two buildings edged the courtyard on the far side. Sabrina inhaled the smell of new grass and looked around. A few folding chairs sat neglected on the cement walkway.

  “I was teasing you, but I want you to know I really do appreciate you helping tonight. We both do. Gavin has poured his free time into this team and he believes that it will make a difference for the kids.”

  “I think he’s right,” she said. The sky was darkening around them. Streetlights from the parking lot next to the courtyard bathed the area in a yellow glow.

  “So do I.” They reached the chairs and he rested his hands on the backs, ready to fold them up. Sabrina wondered why Lana had sent them both out to get the chairs when one of them could have done it easily.

  “The kids love it, for sure. But I know the parents truly appreciate your sacrifice.” She looked around at the cement buildings, thinking of the families who lived here. Homelessness was one of the worst things to happen to a parent. Not being able to provide even basic living arrangements for their child would be failing in a big way. Her chest tightened. And she was going to be one of those failures.

  “Sacrifice? I just show up when Gavin tells me to,” he said.

  Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Giving up your evenings after a hard day’s work is definitely a sacrifice.” He was being modest. The man must work longer hours than she did. She wasn’t naive enough to think a vice president sat around and shot rubber bands at the ceiling.

  He paused, as if unsure what to say. “I’m afraid a hard day’s work is new to me. I wasn’t always the most committed employee. My father had a heart attack a few months ago and I’ve tried to be more responsible, easing the way for his return.” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture she’d come to recognize as something he did when he wasn’t happy.

  She thought that over for a moment. How would it be to have the sort of job where it didn’t matter if you showed up to work or not? “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. He must be really proud of the way you’ve taken over while he’s been gone.”

  There was an uncomfortable moment when Sabrina knew that she’d touched a nerve. Maybe his father wasn’t the kind of parent who said what he felt, who let his kids know he was proud of the work they’d done. Or maybe they weren’t close. Whatever it was, Sabrina read his expression well enough to know that Jack’s relationship with his dad wasn’t as easy as it could be.

  She cleared her throat. “My dad couldn’t keep a job. He was an alcoholic who blamed everyone else for his problems. I try not to let his inability to be a good parent affect the way I live my life.” She blew out a breath. “That sounds harsh, but—”

  “I understand what you mean.” To Sabrina’s surprise, Jack was nodding. “I think I’ve been making a lot of decisions in reaction to my own father rather than doing what I needed to do.”

  “Is he someone you admire? Is he a good example?” She might be asking too many questions, but it had been so long since she’d had anybody to talk to.

  He shook his head. “I love him. He’s an honest man. But he’s built a business empire at the cost of his family. I never remember him being present at the dinner table. He came home after we were in bed and was gone before we were awake. Christmas and Easter were two days he took off, but even then, he would be taking business calls all day.”

  “So, being chained to a desk is a terrible idea to you.” She could see how he would never want to be that man. Jack’s father sounded as absent as her own, even though one had worked all the time and the other couldn’t keep a job.

  “Exactly.” He shrugged. “It’s silly, but I didn’t see how avoiding work was all about him. I thought it was about me and what I wanted out of life.” She couldn’t be sure, but his cheeks looked darker, as if he was embarrassed to admit it. Jack was a better man than a lot of the guys she knew from the old neighborhood. They considered an easy job a gift and would love to be in his position.

  It seemed odd, out here in the fresh air, to see how quickly their conversation had turned serious. “I can’t believe we’re having a heart-to-heart right now about the fact our dads haven’t given us enough attention,” she said.

  “Weird, isn’t it?” He was smiling, but his tone was serious. “I feel like every time I talk to you, I understand myself a little better.”

  Sabrina felt her brows go up and couldn’t think of a thing to say. It was probably the nicest compliment she’d ever been paid, and she was speechless.

  “But I think I understand you a little better now. Remember when we first met, in the cafeteria?”

  She nodded. She remembered how i
t had felt when he’d listened, really listened to her. It had been so long since anyone cared what she said that she’d forgotten what it felt like.

  “I asked you how you knew that you wanted to be a mechanic. That was a stupid question and you told me so.”

  Sabrina shook her head, laughing. “I did no such thing.”

  “Oh, you did. In a nice way. But you did.” He looked down at his hands. “Anyway, I asked you how you knew your purpose in life was to be a mechanic. Half of that question was right.”

  She looked up at him and couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away. All that mattered was this man and what he was trying to say to her.

  “Those girls are your purpose, aren’t they?” He jerked his head toward the cafeteria gym. “They’re your reason for everything you do.”

  She nodded. “They deserve the best—a mom and a dad who love them and protect them—but that’s not going to happen. I’m what they have now and I’m going to do the best I can.” She looked up at the sky, blinking back sudden tears. “But I don’t know what I’m doing. I only know that my parents failed at keeping me and my sister fed and safe. They never told us they loved us or listened to what we had to say. And now I’m moving my nieces into a homeless mission.”

  He reached out and touched her arm. “Life happens. It’s not all about the material things. You’re doing a great job, even if you have to live here for a while.”

  “Am I?” Her voice was fierce. “How do you know? Really, how can you tell?”

  Instead of being offended by her tone, he stepped closer. “I can tell because I’ve known good parents, like Grant and Calista. Like you said, keeping them fed and safe are the basics, but I see how the girls look up to you. They want to be near you and they trust you. You’re listening to them, building their confidence.” He looked down at her, his blue eyes serious. She realized again how tall he was. He never seemed that way, never loomed over her or made her feel weak. That realization nudged against the hard wall she’d put up around her heart, the wall she used to keep people out and to help herself stay strong.