Temporary Family

by Sally Tyler Hayes

  Her car was parked across the street and just down the block, and she had her grade book and a ton of other paperwork to finish before she was done for the school year. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well get some work done. That way, she’d be free to concentrate on Rico tomorrow. She had a feeling the next few days were going to be hectic.

  She glanced at the street, hearing the roar of cars and horns and laughter nearby but seeing no activity in the immediate vicinity. The rain was still falling, a surprisingly cold rain for late May. It was only a block, she told herself, then went dashing across the pavement.

  A man stepped out of the shadows of the deserted building across from the shelter when she was nearly to the curb. She had this impression of blackness, of imposing height, broad shoulders and strength.

  She stumbled to a halt, her momentum nearly sending her toppling forward, then covered her hand with her mouth as she tried not to panic. The shelter was just across the street, she told herself, glancing back and seeing the reassuring glow of the blinking white lights. There was someone watching the door all night. All she had to do was yell, and the man at the shelter would hear her.

  Just as she opened her mouth to scream, the man in front of her took one more step, bringing himself out of the shadows, and she could see him clearly now.

  “Nick” The word came out on a sigh of relief, relief that was short-lived. She really didn’t know anything about this man, except that A.J. liked him. Standing there alone with him in the darkness of the deserted street didn’t do much to reassure her.

  He said something she didn’t hear right away because of some noise nearby. All she knew was that he was reaching for her. He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to him before she could cry out.

  She fought him, pulling herself back with as much force as she could muster. She thought about kicking at his shins or getting her knee up higher to do some real damage, and then she felt the water slamming against feet and her ankles, felt the whish of air at her back, turned and saw taillights glowing through the blackness and the rain.

  A car. She’d been standing in the street in the rain when a car had come by. Laura felt so foolish. He was trying to save her skin, and she’d attacked him like a wild thing. He let go of her now and stepped back, giving her space, then time to reflect on how foolishly she’d reacted.

  “I didn’t even see the car,” she said.

  He didn’t say anything, but he looked ... angry would be her first guess, but she wasn’t sure that was right. Why would he be angry because she’d overreacted ?

  Then he laughed bleakly, sarcastically, a sound that nearly made her heart ache it was so lonely, so hopeless.

  “I sank to a new low tonight,” he said. “Scaring innocent women on the street corner.”

  “I didn’t know it was you,” she said, thinking that wasn’t totally a lie. She hadn’t recognized him at first. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t hurt you”

  She saw his lips twitch, again had that impression of strength and height and power. Still, he didn’t give in to what she was sure was the urge to scoff at her and her ability to cause any real harm to someone his size.

  “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night by yourself?” he asked.

  He sounded as if he had a perfect right to inquire, as if she were some helpless little woman without a hint of a brain in her head.

  Laura squared her shoulders, drawing herself up as tall as she could manage at five-four. “I could have you lying on your back on the pavement in three seconds flat,” she boasted.

  He whistled, mocking her with the sound. “I might just have to see that to believe it.”

  Laura almost wished he’d give her the chance.

  “Even if you think you could throw me,” Nick said, “surely you know it’s foolish to risk walking around out here at night by yourself.”

  “You’re here,” she felt compelled to remind him, but couldn’t stop wondering what in the world he was doing out in the street.

  It was raining, cold, dark, dangerous. And she’d already decided he was only at the shelter to ease his conscience. So why would he be standing around in the rain like this?

  Laura wished she could fit him into some neat little peg, some preconceived notion she had about men like him, but she was starting to see that he wasn’t going to make it that easy on her.

  “Why are you here, Dr.—”

  “Garrett,” he supplied, then waited. “Dr. Nicholas Garret.”

  Dr. Nicholas Garrett. Was the name supposed to mean something to her? It was vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t place it. She let herself look him over leisurely now, maybe even mockingly, because he’d certainly taken his time looking her over this evening. He was a full head taller than she was, and she remembered all too clearly the steely strength of his arms.

  He had dark, thick, beautifully textured hair, pushed back from his forehead in luxurious waves. His eyes were smoky black, his brows and lashes the same, and she couldn’t say what it was exactly about his face that she found so expressive, so compelling, yet almost ... bleak was what came first to her mind.

  A.J. had said he’d been through a rough time lately, and now that she was looking for evidence of that, Laura saw it easily in that hauntingly beautiful face of his.

  It made her think of the devil before he’d fallen from grace. She could just imagine Satan himself looking as compelling, as fearsome and as handsome as Dr. Nicholas Garrett.

  Laura broke out from under that spell of his. “Well, Dr. Garrett—”

  “I think we can make it ‘Nick,’ all things considered,” he said.

  “Nick,” she said, as still he watched her much too intently for her own comfort. “I’m going to get some things out of my car, and then I’m going back to the shelter to spend the night so I can be there when Rico wakes up in the morning.”

  She couldn’t say why she had told him. It certainly wasn’t any of his business where she went or where she spent the night. But she felt compelled to say something and to get away from him. An explanation seemed to fill the bill perfectly.

  He didn’t respond. Exasperated, tired and hating to leave Rico alone any longer, she turned and headed for the car.

  “Wait a minute,” he said, coming up behind her. “I’ll walk you over.”

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “Indulge me on this,” he said, putting his hand at the back of her waist and falling into step with her. “Unless you are afraid of me.”

  Something—more the tone of his voice than the actual words-stopped her cold in her tracks. Was she afraid of him? She was fooling herself in thinking he wouldn’t pick up on her uneasiness.

  “You just startled me, that’s all.” She felt a sudden urge to reassure him.

  He reminded her of someone, some lost little boy. She smiled, unable to help herself when she imagined what he’d think if he ever knew she was comparing him to one of her students. They got lost sometimes, basically good kids who for one reason or another just lost all sense of themselves and the things that were important. And that was the most dangerous kind of all. The kids who didn’t care about themselves were the ones who made disastrous mistakes with their lives, sometimes mistakes that couldn’t ever be corrected.

  Rico wasn’t one of those kids. The world he lived in might have gone mad, but he still believed in himself. Laura had a hunch Dr. Nicholas Garrett couldn’t say the same for himself. Then she remembered A.J.’s comment.

  Exactly how did one go about cutting some slack to a dangerously handsome man who reminded her alternately of the devil and a lost little boy?

  Laura was certain she didn’t need to find out. She collected deprived kids the way some people picked up stray cats and took them home with them ; she certainly couldn’t start treating grown men the same way. Although, for a second, the thought of taking him home had her heart kicking into high gear.

  Here he was, standing in the rain beside her, the tension betwee
n the two of them a palpable thing now. He wanted something from her. He needed it. But what was it? And did she have it to give?

  “I’m not afraid of you, Nick,” she said as calmly and as evenly as possible.

  Then she started toward her car. He matched her stride step for step down the deserted street, waited while she unloaded a tote bag from the car and, without a word, walked her back to the shelter. They stood in the entranceway, just out of the rain, the man at the door looking pointedly in the other direction. Laura felt as awkward as a teenager coming home from her first date, except she’d never dated a man like Nick.

  Who was she kidding? She had hardly dated at all. There were no parents, no family home, and she hated explaining her foster parents to a high-school boy. So she hadn’t explained, and she hadn’t dated.

  Now she wondered whether this moment would have been any easier if she’d been more experienced talking to a man she hardly knew.

  Surely it had to get easier than this.

  “I hope things work out ... for Rico,” he said, facing her now with a foot and a half between them.

  Laura swallowed hard, wondering why her throat would be so tight and why she had to struggle to control her breathing, wondering what in the world was happening between her and this man.

  She thought about asking him to explain it; after all, he was the one with the medical degree and the specialty in human behavior. She would bet he’d stood on dozens of porches after dozens of dates with women much more self-assured and experienced than her. Surely he knew just what to do.

  But asking him to explain those things would put more importance on this moment than it truly deserved.

  After all, nothing had happened. He’d sparred with her in the hallway of the shelter, caught her against him for the briefest moment of time while the car whizzed past, walked her to her car.

  It didn’t mean anything at all.

  “I’m not such a bad guy,” he said again, bringing a smile to her lips. “And I just realized—I don’t know your first name.”

  She flushed profusely. She had been downright rude to him. Working up her courage, she extended an unsteady hand toward him. “It’s Laura.”

  He took her hand in his-enveloped it in both of his, actually. She gave a little start as his hands closed around hers. His skin was impossibly warm for a cold, wet night like this, and she couldn’t help but think that if it felt this good simply to hold his hand, how would it feel to be in his arms?

  It was a silly thought, a-girlish one. Girls were the ones who stood on the front porch daydreaming about whether they would get a good-night kiss and where things might go from there.

  “Laura,” he said.

  The sound of her name on his lips sent shivers down her spine. Curiously, she felt she would remember this moment forever.

  “I have to go,” she said, pulling her band from his before she blurted out any of the ridiculous things she was feeling. And then she disappeared inside the shelter.

  She didn’t allow herself to look back, not for a second.

  Chapter 4

  Nick was still thinking about Laura the next morning. Hell, he’d thought about her most of the night.

  He seldom slept anymore. And it was much more pleasant to think of Laura than the problems that normally ran through his head.

  More frightening, yet just as compelling, were his thoughts of Rico. He hadn’t gotten anything out of the kid except a bad case of nerves for himself, and he knew if the kid needed help Laura and A.J. would find someone to help Rico. A.J. wouldn’t let a little thing like the fact that she no longer worked at the shelter stop her. He had a feeling Laura Sandoval wouldn’t let anything stop her when it came to helping Rico, either.

  So the boy wasn’t Nick’s problem, and Rico would certainly be better off in some other doctor’s care. There was only one thing wrong-he couldn’t stop thinking about Rico, just as he couldn’t stop thinking about Laura.

  His apartment, for so long a haven, suddenly seemed to be closing in on him. It was dark here, dusty, dirty. He hadn’t been bothered by any of those things before, but now he was. Giving in to the need to do something, to change something, he cleaned up the place. When he finished, he still wasn’t tired.

  Outside, the rain had washed things fairly clean, at least for a city. The sun was shining, the wind blowing, the sky this intriguing shade of blue. How long had it been since he’d even noticed the color of the sky? Or the state of the weather? Or cared whether it was night or day?

  It was still early. What could he do with this day? He went out and simply started walking, amazed to find himself bothered by having nothing to do, no place to be, no obligations to meet. For the longest time, he’d been quite satisfied to live that way. Not today. He didn’t even want to think about what this uncharacteristic restlessness meant.

  His days used to be crammed full. He’d worked for peanuts for the prosecutors at the federal, state and local levels, testifying in court when they needed an expert witness in psychiatry. He’d also helped in preparing children to testify in court, even helped the authorities in questioning children either victimized by crime or those who’d witnessed violent. crimes. That was how he came to work the kidnapping case that eventually brought A.J.’s family back to her.

  But Nick had made his money in this fancy office downtown, charging rich people exorbitant rates to try to straighten out their mixed-up kids. And that’s where he’d run into trouble last year. Nick, one troubled kid and one innocent bystander who happened to be a teenager himself. That’s when Nick fell apart.

  Nick hadn’t done much of anything since. He still had the right to practice his chosen profession, thanks to the licensing board that reviewed the complaint against him and later cleared him of any wrongdoing. Of course, that board couldn’t give him back his privacy, his reputation, the respect of his peers; he’d been crucified in the press for most of the past year. He couldn’t imagine parents wanting to bring their children to him for help ever again.

  The board’s ruling had also done nothing to clear his conscience. He had to do that for himself. Or he had to at least learn to live with what had happened.

  So far, he hadn’t done either. He’d simply existed in this void inside his apartment, until he’d been drawn back into the real world by one lost little boy and the spitfire of a woman who was determined to help him.

  Nick found himself headed for the nearest train station. Within twenty minutes, he was at the shelter, standing in the shadows of the abandoned building across the street, trying to figure out what he was going to say to Laura Sandoval and Rico Leone this time.

  Nick wanted to do something. He wanted to help Rico, and he wanted to see Laura in the bright light of day. Surely she wasn’t nearly as intriguing as he remembered.

  A couple of kids he remembered, kids who hadn’t been at A.J.’s party the night before, went inside, and Nick wondered what had happened to them in the past. He could find out. He could walk back in there and ask them. He knew Joe Dailey, the interim director, wouldn’t give him any trouble about hanging out there and talking to the kids.

  With luck, Joe wouldn’t try to talk to Nick about what had happened last year. He would probably ask when Nick was planning to come back to work, but Nick could handle that. He’d give him some offhand nonanswer, and that would be the end of it. Joe wouldn’t press him on the issue.

  Nick took one long, deep breath and resigned himself to going inside, all the while telling himself it wouldn’t mean that much if he did. It was simply what he chose to do with this particular day. No commitments involved.

  He almost always made headway with his patients with the idea of taking one day at a time. They didn’t have to settle their future that instant. They only had to worry about that day. If they could handle that day, they could probably get through the one after it. And the next one, and the next one. Pretty soon the future would take care of itself, despite their state of uncertainty and self-doubt.

&nb
sp; Surely that theory would work with Nick, as well.

  He glanced to his left, then his right, found the street empty, and walked across. Some sort of commotion at the shelter entrance—a shout, the pounding of feet—drew his attention. He saw a little boy—Rico—shoot out the doors, down the steps and into the street.

  Only then did Nick notice the car. It came barreling out of nowhere, its engine roaring menacingly. And it was headed straight for Rico.

  Nick screamed a warning he knew would be too late, and then he, too, was running into the street and into the path of the oncoming car.

  Rico stood frozen in place, his mouth gaping but no sound coming out.

  Nick grabbed him on the run and lunged for the other side of the street....

  Laura shoved open the shelter door just in time to see a man and a little boy flying eerily through the air. She saw it through this curious fog, watched it with this stunned sense of disbelief.

  She was dreaming, she told herself. No, she thought—this was a nightmare.

  She heard the sickening thud of bodies hitting something—she couldn’t see what.

  She heard the car engine roaring. The vehicle never even slowed down. People were screaming and had gathered at the entrance to the shelter.

  For a moment, Laura couldn’t move. She couldn’t look. Her stomach churned. She leaned weakly against the side of the building for three or four seconds, then forced herself to move.

  Laura pushed through the crowd, to the little boy lying on the sidewalk and a man on his hands and knees, his head bent forward as he gasped for breath.

  Rico. There was blood running down the boy’s face from a gash on his forehead, fresh scrape marks on his nose and his cheeks. She knelt beside him, afraid to touch him. He was on his side, his eyes closed, his arms outstretched toward her.