The ride home had been quite a revelation. He’d driven Carly’s truck while she had cradled the boy close in spite of the dirt all over him and the tomato smashed into his shaggy hair. The tender look on her face for this ragged boy had nearly stopped his heart. He hoped he could be as gentle and forgiving of a thief as she was. When they reached her house, he’d carried Dustin inside where she had tucked him into bed in her guest room before stumbling off to bed herself.
She had told Luke good-night, obviously expecting him to leave, but he was concerned about how Dustin was going to react when he woke up in a strange place. From what he’d seen, the boy was feisty and unpredictable. Carly would probably need help with him. Besides, Luke admitted to himself, he was curious about the boy who had been in the area with his grandmother for months, raiding Carly’s gardens, too terrified to ask for help. Hoping to get answers this morning, Luke had made himself comfortable on Carly’s sofa and had actually slept for a few hours.
“Are you back already?” Carly asked from the doorway.
He turned around to see her watching him with sleepy eyes as she pushed her tangled hair out of her face. Oh, yeah, he remembered that about her. She had usually awakened looking as if she’d been wrestling bears all night.
“I slept on your couch. Figured I’d done enough stumbling around in the dark for one night.” He held up the cup. “I made coffee.”
“Nectar of the gods,” she murmured, letting the door close behind her as she started for the kitchen.
He chuckled to himself and sat on the steps. She was back twenty minutes later, her hair brushed into its usual smooth ponytail, dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved, blue T-shirt with the Joslin Gardens logo on the front and back. She was carrying a cup of coffee and two cinnamon rolls. She handed him one, then joined him on the steps.
“Thanks,” he said, taking a big bite. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. “You know, you should have a couple of lounge chairs out here.”
Carly snickered. “When would I have time to lounge around on the porch?”
“Maybe you work too hard.”
“Maybe I do.” She looked around. “I used to have Adirondack chairs. My mom and dad and I would sit out here and talk about what we needed to do around the gardens, until my dad got sick, that is, and they moved to Tulsa.”
She took another bite of her cinnamon roll and gave it an appreciative look. “These rolls remind me of that time, too. My mom shared her cinnamon roll recipe with Stephanie Hardcastle. When Stephanie started her bakery in town, she began making these and calls them Angie’s Buns.” Carly chuckled. “I don’t think my mom is crazy about that name.”
This was the first she had spoken about that time and he wouldn’t mind if she continued. Keeping his voice carefully neutral, he asked, “What did you do with the chairs?”
“Painted them bright blue and sold them to the Mortons. They’re still in their backyard. That was my first up-cycling project. I discovered I liked it and I’m good at it.”
“And look how far you’ve come. Now you have your own shop.”
“Yes.” She gazed out at her fields. “And my gardens—at least for now.”
Unwilling to get into the fracking conversation again, he said, “I called the hospital. They would only say that Mrs. Salyer is resting comfortably.”
“They told me the same thing, so I called Gemma, who said she’ll be in the hospital for several days on intravenous antibiotics, then probably in the rehabilitation center next door to the hospital for physical therapy.”
“I’m glad she’s getting good care.” Luke took a sip of coffee. “The question is what are we going to do about Dustin?”
* * *
THEY WERE TALKING about him. Dustin had been awake for a while, looking around this room with its pink-painted walls, trying to figure out where he was. He’d made a surreptitious trip to the bathroom and when he’d returned, he’d opened the window, in case he needed to climb out of it and run. He’d fallen back asleep, awakened again, and now he realized the window overlooked the front porch, where he could hear those two grown-ups from last night talking about him.
That had happened before. It always meant trouble. It meant his mom’s latest boyfriend was sick of him, wanted him gone. Well, the last time, he’d saved them the trouble of shipping him off to a relative he didn’t even know, or putting him in foster care. He’d taken off and found his grandmother.
But now she was going to die and he didn’t know what he was going to do. He’d heard them talking last night, using words like blood poisoning. He didn’t know exactly what that was, but he knew what poison was. His grandma was poisoned, and it was probably his fault. He’d tried to take care of her, get her food, but he’d failed. An ambulance had come and they’d taken her away. Now he could hear them saying she was getting good care, but he was still afraid she might die.
He turned on his side and gripped his empty stomach as he fought the tears welling in his eyes. He’d have to run again. But where would he go this time?
* * *
“THE FIRST THING we need to do is feed him,” Carly said. “And then take him to see Era.”
They heard something hit the floor in the guest room. Carly set down her cup and walked cautiously across the creaky wooden porch to peek in the window. At the same time, Luke crossed the porch and eased open the door, disappearing inside.
Carly could see Dustin, with his shoes clutched to his chest, reaching for the doorknob. When he looked over his shoulder, their eyes met and he froze.
“Good morning,” she called through the open window. “Don’t you want some breakfast? Do you like pancakes? Bacon? Eggs? I can fix whatever you’d like.”
He hesitated, but he still reached for the doorknob. When he swung the door open, Luke was standing there.
“Hey, buddy,” Luke greeted him. “Aren’t you hungry?”
Dustin’s head tipped forward for a second but then he straightened. “Maybe,” he said. “But I gotta go see about Grandma.”
“She’s in the hospital.”
Seeing that Dustin wasn’t going to flee—at least not through the window—Carly hurried into the house and joined Luke in the hallway.
“She’s getting good care,” Luke continued. “But she’ll be in the hospital for a few days.”
“I’ll take you to visit her in a little while so you can see for yourself,” Carly said, trying for a firm, nonthreatening tone. “In the meantime, I’ll fix you something to eat, and you can take a shower.” She smiled. “You might want to wash the smashed tomato out of your hair.”
Dustin reached up, felt his matted and dirty hair, and said, “Yeah, okay, but I don’t have clean clothes to put on.”
“You can borrow some of mine,” she said brightly, startling a disbelieving snort of laughter out of him. “Well, maybe not. While you shower and I cook, maybe Luke can go over to your grandmother’s house and get you some clothes.”
“I don’t have no clean clothes there, either. We ran out of soap.”
“Then Luke will gather up your dirty things and bring them over here. We’ll wash and dry what you need.”
The two males looked at her, then at each other.
“She’s kind of bossy,” Dustin said.
“So it seems,” Luke answered, holding out his hand to Carly. “I’ll need to use your truck. Mine’s still over at the job site.”
She snagged her keys from the hook beside the back door and he left to do her bidding. Searching through the guest room closet, she found an old bathrobe of her dad’s and got Dustin headed into the bathroom with everything he needed, including a brand-new toothbrush.
Once the door was shut behind him, she quickly got breakfast started, then began making a list of everything she needed to do that day. Running two businesses and trying to make up
for neglecting her neighbor would make this a frantically busy day.
Luke returned with an armload of clothing, but when she tried to take it from him, he pulled it away. “I know how to do laundry, Carly. Just point me to the washer.”
She directed him to the laundry facilities on the back porch and returned to the kitchen. Some things had changed in twelve years. When they’d been married, he had never done his own laundry, hadn’t even known how.
She was draining bacon on paper towels and had finished the first stack of pancakes when Dustin sidled uncertainly into the room, holding up the hem of her dad’s old robe so he wouldn’t trip on it and clutching his dirty clothes to his chest. His hair was slicked back, emphasizing the prominence of his cheekbones and the thinness of his face. A small bruise darkened the skin above his eye, probably a result of Jay’s flying tackle.
Even though guilt kicked at her, she gave him a bright smile as she took the clothes from him and carried them to Luke, then put several pancakes and some slices of bacon on a plate and handed it to him. “Have a seat and dig in, Dustin.”
She didn’t have to ask him twice. He sat quickly and poured a lake of syrup over his breakfast. He began devouring it and was half-finished by the time she set a glass of milk in front of him.
Luke walked in and stopped in surprise. “Hey, slow down, buddy, or you’ll make yourself sick.”
Dustin gave him a look that questioned his sanity, but he did start taking an occasional breath between bites.
Carly and Luke ate, too, and the three of them were finishing up when they heard the crunch of gravel beneath tires. She set her plate in the sink and walked out to see a sheriff’s car stopping by her front steps, and Deputy Wayne Fedder Jr.—known as Junior to everyone—stepping out.
She smiled at the sight of him. Dangerously overweight until his girlfriend had said she wouldn’t marry him until he got healthy, he’d lost a considerable number of pounds and now moved like the young man he was instead of an ancient one.
She held the door open for him. “Hey, Junior,” she said. “What brings you out this morning?”
He gave her a puzzled look as he stepped inside. He was carrying a small laptop case. “Sheriff Held sent me, said—”
“You said you wouldn’t call the sheriff.” Dustin spoke furiously from the doorway. “You said no one would call the sheriff and try to arrest my grandma...or...or me.”
Carly held out her hands, palms up. “I didn’t, Dustin. I promise.”
“I did,” Luke said, standing behind the boy but looking at Carly. “I didn’t know Carly had promised that, but, Dustin, when a kid’s been left by himself, even for a while, the authorities need to know.”
“That’s why you took my clothes,” Dustin said, “so I couldn’t run away.” Jerking the oversize robe above his ankles, he stomped down the hallway and slammed the door to the guest room.
Luke started after him, but Carly said, “Better give him a while to cool down.”
Junior gave them an apologetic look as he said, “Carly, can we sit down and have a cup of coffee? I think we might be having a long talk.”
“Oh, of course.”
In the kitchen, she poured fresh coffee for all three of them, then she and Luke watched as Junior took a notebook computer out of its case and set it up on the table.
“The thing is,” he said. “Dustin Salyer is a runaway.” He tapped the keys and pulled up a photo, which he turned to show them. It was Dustin, all right. A school photo of him with a better haircut, a solemn expression and a hint of defiance in his eyes. “He took off from his mother’s place in Waco, Texas, in May. She turned in a report, said maybe he’d come up here to Era’s. I talked to Era then, but she said he wasn’t there. We checked back a couple of times, but she said he’d never turned up.” He shook his head. “I’ve known Mrs. Salyer my whole life. She and my mom used to play Bunco together. I can’t believe she lied to my face.”
“She probably felt that she had no choice,” Carly said, and reported everything she had learned about Dustin and Era’s situation.
“She was hiding him,” Luke said. “But I saw him out on the highway once. I gave him and his bicycle and some boxes a ride into town.”
“Oh, I saw him in town once, too,” Carly recalled. “A few days ago. I remember wondering why he wasn’t in school.”
“So he didn’t always stay hidden.” Junior shrugged. “I never saw him. We never had any kind of report or complaint about him. If Era was hiding him, why did she let him come out during the day like that?”
“She may not have known,” Carly said, feeling another pang of guilt. “I think she’s been sick for a while, probably slept a lot during the day. I know he was out in the neighborhood at night.” She told Junior about the disappearing produce and the melons they’d found in Era’s refrigerator. “It seems odd that she didn’t question where he was getting that food.”
“Not if she was sick,” Luke pointed out.
They all fell silent for a few seconds.
“He must have had a reason for leaving Waco,” Luke said.
“My guess is an uncaring mother. She never followed up after her initial report of his disappearance, although the authorities in Waco kept her up-to-date on anything they found out, which wasn’t much.” Junior sipped his coffee and stared at the computer screen. “Looks like she’s had a series of abusive boyfriends since her husband died. She’s filed charges against some of them. Dustin has bounced in and out of foster care.”
Carly put her hand to her forehead. “Where do women find guys like that?”
Junior sighed. “Kick over any rock and they just slither out.”
“So what’s going to happen now?” Luke asked. “Will he go back to his mother?”
“She doesn’t want him back. Says she’s going to give up her parental rights.”
Horrified, Carly stared at him. “What? That’s appalling. Why wouldn’t she want her son back?”
“I told you. Uncaring mother. She says she can’t handle him, wants the state—any state—to take him. He was born in Texas, so they might have jurisdiction, but he’s in Oklahoma now, so we’ll have to find a foster home to take care of him. We’ve already called Child Services.”
“No. Won’t Era want him back?” Carly asked.
“She probably will, but I think it’s pretty obvious she can’t take care of him, and he’s liable to run off again, given his history.”
“You don’t know that.”
Luke gave her a steady look. “He would have run off already if all his clothes weren’t in the wash.” He stood and went to put Dustin’s things in the dryer.
Carly immediately turned to Junior. Purposefully, she set her jaw. “Junior, let me keep him.”
“What? Why? You don’t know this kid.”
“What foster mother does? They’re always strangers, and at least I know his grandmother. I knew his dad. You did, too. Joey Salyer? He was a couple of years ahead of us in school. Played football, went into the army and then onto the oil fields for work. That’s where he died.”
“I remember,” Junior said. “It’s not up to me, but from what I’ve seen on this report, he’s pretty hard to handle.”
She glanced toward the hallway. “That’s probably true,” she said, her words dragging with doubts. “But he doesn’t need another upheaval, and he loves his grandmother, was trying to take care of her and... I feel guilty because I could have helped him and Era and I didn’t. I owe her.
“As soon as his clothes are dry, I’m taking him to see Era, then he could come back here and...stay with me until things get sorted out. Besides, he needs to be in school. He needs normal.”
“Carly, you’ve got to be kidding,” Luke said, walking in on the tail of their conversation. He and Junior exchanged the kind of glance that seem
ed to ask, “What’s this woman thinking?”
“No, I’m not kidding.” The more she thought about it, the more she knew it was the right thing to do.
Junior considered her for a minute. “Well, I need to get going and I can’t take him in his birthday suit. I’ll ask Child Services to hold off picking him up until this afternoon. That’ll give you time to think about this. And, they might not even have a placement for him. The county is short on foster homes. Dustin might have to be housed in the county lockup until we find a spot for him.”
“Which is his worst fear.” She looked from Junior’s doubtful face to Luke’s grim one. “I’ve thought about it. This is what I want to do.”
“Okay.” Junior stood and gathered his things. “I’ll tell the sheriff what’s going on and call Child Services. They’ll be out to talk to you.”
“That’s fine. That’s what I would expect.”
She walked Junior out and Luke followed.
As the deputy drove away, Luke asked, “Carly, do you know anything about dealing with troubled kids?”
“I know it won’t help to create more trouble for him, put him in jail, drag him away from what little stability he’s got, keep him from his grandmother.”
“Don’t you think you’ve got enough going on?” With his steady look, he seemed to be trying to get inside her head. “You’ve got businesses to run and—”
“Natural gas extraction to worry about?” she finished for him. “Yes, I do, but this boy needs help. His mother wants to dump him, for crying out loud. How do you think that’s going to make him feel?”
Luke dropped his head forward and shook it, then met her gaze again. “All right, then, I’ll help you.”
“Help me do what?”
“Look after him.”
“I don’t need your help. What makes you think you know any more than I do about taking care of a troubled kid?”
He raised an eyebrow and said, “I don’t know any more than you do, but this is obviously a two-person job. And you’ll have to drive him to Toncaville every day to see Mrs. Salyer. I can help with that.”
The Husband She Can't Forget Page 11
