Seven Reasons Why

by Neesa Hart

  She’d just opened her mouth to respond when Sam, sweaty and scared, crashed through her office door. “August! August, you gotta come quick!”

  The alarm in his panting voice made her blood pressure shoot through the roof. “Sam. What’s wrong?”

  “That man.” Sam sucked in a breath. “He’s at the house.”

  “What man?” Zack asked.

  “He says he’s Teddy’s father.”

  August didn’t wait to see if Zack and Sam would follow. She headed for the house at a full run.

  Zack reached the porch as August wrenched open the door. Pain lanced through his thigh like a knife wound, but he ignored it long enough to do a mental count of six small heads in the den. Sam stumbled into the house after him. Lucas, who was doing the best job of looking brave, had the boys corralled on the couch, while Emma Prentiss used her rolling pin to hold off a burly, menacing-looking man.

  The stranger spit a dirty stream of tobacco juice onto the carpet just as Zack dropped into one of the ladder-back chairs. “That’s my kid,” he mumbled around the large wad in his cheek. “And he’s coming with me.”

  The boys closed ranks around Teddy. Lucas glared at Zack. “Do something,” he demanded. “You said you’d do something.”

  Zack rubbed the pain in his thigh with one hand, then reached for August with the other. She appeared to be on the cusp of attacking the stranger. Beneath his fingers, her forearm felt tense as a bowstring. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “I’m George Snopes, and that—” he pointed a dirty, cracked finger at Teddy “—is my son. I’ve been looking all over for the boy since last year.”

  Teddy gave Zack a look that threatened to rip his heart out. “You can document your paternal claims, I assume?”

  “What?” Another stream of tobacco juice hit the carpet.

  Zack levered to his feet. By keeping most of his weight on his left leg, he could minimize the pain in his right. His height, he knew, gave him an intimidating edge. At any moment, the situation could soar out of control, and defusing it before someone got hurt was his first priority. “I assume,” he repeated, “that you can prove you’re the boy’s father”

  “Course I can. Besides, he remembers me.” He fixed Teddy with a beady-eyed stare. “Don’t you, boy?”

  Teddy’s eyes grew huge in his small face. “Then I’ll have to see the papers,” Zack said, extending his hand. “Now.”

  “What papers.”

  “Your documentation that you’re his father. He’s not leaving this house until I see your papers.”

  “I ain’t got no papers.”

  “Then you’d better leave before I call the police.”

  When Snopes took a step toward the boys, Emma raised the rolling pin. “You come one step closer,” she warned him, “and I’ll knock you cold.”

  “Get outa my way, old woman,” she snarled.

  Emma brought the rolling pin down, hard, on his shoulder. When he howled in outraged pain, August rushed to insinuate herself between George and her family. “She hit me!” George yelled, spewing a stream of obscenities.

  “That tears it.” Ignoring the pain in his leg, Zack crossed the room in three long strides. He clamped a large hand on George’s shoulder. “Get out, or I’ll throw you out.”

  “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “I’m your worst nightmare,” Zack said. “And you have about ten seconds to get five hundred yards from this house.”

  Snopes looked from Zack to Teddy. “Tell ’em, kid,” he said. “Tell ’em I’m your daddy.”

  “He don’t talk,” Jeff said. “He ain’t never talked since he got here.”

  “Course he talks.” Snopes tried to break free of Zack’s grasp.

  August stepped closer to him. “Don’t touch them.”

  “Get outa my way.”

  “August,” Zack warned, “he’s leaving.”

  “I ain’t going nowhere without my kid.” Snopes lurched to the left, and the pain that lanced through Zack’s leg loosened his grip on the man’s shoulder. Temporarily free of the restraint, Snopes brought a beefy fist down on August’s collarbone. The force of the blow sent her to the floor. With an outraged howl, Emma cracked him on the head with the wooden rolling pin, and he collapsed in a groaning heap.

  “August!” Chip rushed forward, sobbing, to throw chubby little arms around her neck. Six more bodies enveloped her as she rubbed the rapidly bruising spot on her shoulder. “It’s all right.” She gathered them under the sheltering protection of her arms. “I’m all right.”

  Zack grabbed Snopes’s grimy collar and hauled him to his feet. “You set one foot on this property again, and I’ll personally see to it that you don’t walk out of here in one piece.”

  “Are you threatening me?” he sputtered.

  “Yes.” Zack shoved him toward the door.

  Snopes searched for, and found, Teddy’s tear-filled eyes. “You tell ’em,” he said. “You tell ’em right now, or I swear to hell I’ll get you.”

  Teddy’s whole body had begun to shake. Zack took one look at the terror in the small blue eyes and lost what fragile threads remained of his temper. Before Snopes had time to blink, Zack slammed his fist into the man’s jaw. The force of the blow sent him staggering over the threshold. “Out!” Zack snarled, and slammed the door with a force that rattled the windows.

  Behind him, the soft sound of sobbing filled the sudden quiet in the room. August’s gently whispered words of comfort floated softly on the tense stillness. Zack had to suck air into his constricted lungs to force his anger aside. Part of him still wanted to bury his fist down Snopes’s throat. When he finally forced himself to face them, he found Emma’s eyes trained on his. “You did what was right,” she assured him. “What needed to be done. I’m sorry I didn’t hit him harder with the pin.”

  “Thanks, Emma.” His gaze swung to August. She was watching him with a quiet desperation that knotted his insides. He made his way across the room to where the boys still huddled around her in a heap. He looked at the small heads and felt his stomach clench. Everything August had told him came back to him in a rush. Despite the consequences, despite his best intentions not to care too deeply or feel too much, they’d wormed their way under his skin, just as easily as they’d crossed his fence. He dragged a hand over his face with a sudden feeling of weary relief. He’d been fighting his instincts too long. “Gentlemen,” he said. “You just hired yourself a lawyer.”

  Seven pairs of eyes met his. In them he saw a mixture of fear and hope and disbelief. “What are you gonna do?” Sam asked.

  Zack glanced at August again, “Can you give me a few minutes to make sure August is okay?”

  Chip’s arms remained locked around her neck. “You’re okay, aren’t you?” he pleaded.

  Bo’s head peeked out from beneath her arm. “Did he hurt you a lot?”

  She dropped a soft kiss on Chip’s.forehead as she ruffled Bo’s hair with her fingers. “I’m fine. Everybody’s fine.”

  Teddy, Zack noticed, didn’t look fine. His face was colorless and pale, and his eyes remained fixed on an invisible point in space. “Emma,” he said, “why don’t you take Teddy in the kitchen and see if you can find him something to drink? Boys—” he glanced at the rest of them “—if you’ll give me a few minutes with August, we’ll meet back here to discuss your case. Deal?”

  Jeff watched him through wire-framed glasses. “You aren’t gonna let him take Teddy, are you?”

  “No.”

  “What if he has papers?” Lucas asked.

  “Yeah.” Sam shuffled to the front of the pile. “What if he gots papers?”

  “I’m still not going to let him do it.” As Emma led Teddy toward the kitchen, the child turned to watch Zack. The pleading look in his eyes begged for solace. “I promise.”

  The boys seemed momentarily content with the answer, and filed in somber procession toward the stairs. As Lucas passed Zack, he muttered, “Ten minutes. That’s
all you get.”

  “Fine.” When they disappeared, he reached out a hand to August. “Come on,” he urged. “Let’s have a look at that bruise.”

  “It’s fine.” She let him assist her to her feet. “Really.”

  “It’s bleeding,” he told her, pointing to the spreading red stain on the collar of her coveralls.

  She glanced at it in surprise. “Bleeding?”

  “I think he cut you with his ring. You need some antiseptic, a bandage, and some ice.” With a firm hand at the small of her back, he pressed her toward the kitchen.

  “How’s your leg?” she asked.

  “Not as bad as your shoulder.”

  “That’s not funny. It was really hurting you when we got here.”

  “It’s fine.” He pushed open the swinging door with his free hand. “Quit stalling.”

  “I don’t think—” She glanced at the counter, where Teddy sat, holding a tall glass of tea, while Emma bustled around the kitchen laying out baking ingredients. “I don’t think Teddy should see the blood.”

  “I do,” he said. “Trust me.”

  Teddy sensed their presence. The pallor still dominated his face, but his eyes appeared to have focused. He stared at them, heartbroken. “It’s okay, buddy,” Zack said as he urged August into the kitchen. “It’s just a little cut and a bruise.”

  “No worse than when you fell off your bike on Pine Ridge,” August assured him.

  “Sit.” Zack swung one of the kitchen stools into position near Teddy. “Emma, where’s the first aid stuff?”

  “In the bathroom medicine cabinet,” she said. She was creaming butter and brown sugar with the force of a tornado. Zack noted the tense set of her face as she used the distraction of baking to work off her frustration. He envied her. He still felt the need to hit something—someone—but he fought for the calm facade he sensed Teddy needed. The child was in desperate need of reassurance, and the quicker the adults in his life got back to normal, the quicker he’d find it

  Zack fetched the first aid kit from the medicine cabinet, pausing to brace his hands on the sink as he fought for control. When he returned to the kitchen, his hands were trembling so much from his lingering anger, he wasn’t sure he could pull off the simple procedure of cleaning August’s wound. “Here we go,” he said with forced cheer as he set the kit next to August on the counter. “Let me see it.”

  She eased the coveralls off her wounded shoulder. Teddy’s eyes remained fixed on the blood. Gently, Zack swapped the small cut with a cotton ball. “Not too bad,” he said. “Not even a half inch long.”

  Teddy scrambled to his knees so that he could look closely at the cut. “See.” Zack pointed to it. “It’s just a little thing.” He finished cleaning it. “Hurt much?” he asked August.

  “No.” She smiled at Teddy. “I’ll bet it doesn’t hurt even half as much as the time you slammed Bo’s finger in the closet door.”

  That won the barest hint of a smile. Zack applied a tiny gauze pad and a plastic bandage to the cut. “Bleeding stopped,” he assured them. “All we need now is ice.”

  Teddy jumped off his stool and headed for the refrigerator. Zack used the opportunity to ask August, “How does it feel?”

  She frowned at him. “Hurts like hell.”

  “I know.” He stroked a finger on her jaw. “The ice’ll help.” Behind them, Emma continued to mutter as she dropped eggs and baking soda into the cookie dough. Teddy returned with the ice pack. “Thanks.” Zack scooped it out of his hand. “Here you go,” he told August. “Put that on, you’ll be as good as new.”

  She winced when he pressed the cold bag on the large bruise. Zack gave her an apologetic look, then turned to Teddy. “Now,” he said, placing his hands on either side of the child’s small waist. He lifted him until he sat on the counter, then leaned down so that his face was at eye level with Teddy’s. “I want you to listen to me,” he told him. He saw the way Teddy’s eyes widened, and wished he could hit George Snopes all over again. “You don’t have to go with him,” Zack said. He kept his gaze on Teddy’s.

  A mixture of disbelief, hope and fear reflected in his blue eyes, like pebbles in a mountain stream. “No matter what happens, you don’t have to go with him.”

  The child searched his face for long seconds, then tossed his arms around his neck with a heart-wrenching sob.

  Chapter Eight

  The boys watched him more intently than any jury as he paced August’s den and searched for words. Teddy sat on August’s lap, shivering. With his head buried against her neck, he was the only member of the small audience not raptly listening to what Zack had to say.

  “I’m going to level with you,” he told them. “I’m going to tell you exactly where I think we are, and exactly what I think we have to do, and then you can ask me anything you want. Deal?”

  They looked to Jeff for guidance. He nodded. “Deal.”

  “All right. First of all, I want each of you to know you don’t have to be afraid of George Snopes.”

  Chip tugged on Zack’s pants leg. “Can he take Teddy?”

  “No,” Zack said. “According to the files, Teddy’s father surrendered custody to the state three years ago.”

  Lucas snorted. “The files. That don’t matter. If some kids’ parents come looking for ’em, you don’t think the judge is going to send ’em back?”

  “Not this time,” Zack said. “This kid has a lawyer.”

  Bo’s small hands moved backed and forth on the carpet in nervous agitation. “But he said he would. He told you he’d come get him.”

  “He won’t. Bo.” With a sigh, Zack dropped into a chair so that he’d be closer to eye level with them. “Boys, you’ve got to listen to me. I went and looked at all the paperwork this week. There were some problems with August’s custody.”

  Her gaze flew to his. “Zack.”

  “They need to know,” he assured her.

  “Don’t scare them.”

  “What kinda problems?” Jeff asked, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Sam sneezed.

  “Easy-to-fix problems. I filed the papers, talked to the judge. Everything should be straightened out by next week.”

  Across the room he felt August’s tension. One hand stroked Teddy’s back, but the other held the arm of the sofa so tightly, Zack could see the veins on her wrist. He held her gaze as he spoke. “In the meantime, George Snopes has no claim on Teddy. If he comes back, I’ll get a restraining order.”

  Josh’s nose wrinkled in confusion. “What’s that?”

  “It means they can’t come near ya,” Lucas explained. “But it doesn’t work. If they wanna hit you, they do.”

  Zack gave Lucas’s shoulder a brief shake. “Nobody’s hitting anybody.”

  “He hit August,” Bo said.

  “You hit him.” Jeff added,

  “Grandma hit him, too,” Josh supplied.

  Zack wiped a hand over his face in frustration. “That was different.”

  “Boys,” August shifted on the couch. Six heads swiveled in her direction. “What Zack is trying to say is that we’re going to make sure you’re all right. Between Zack and me, nothing is going to happen to any of you. Do you understand?”

  Chip shook his head. “But what if he comes back?”

  “Then you have to promise to let me handle him,” Zack said. “I don’t want any of you being alone with him. Agreed?” They nodded. “All right,” he said. “Has anyone got questions?”

  Bo raised his hand. “What’s wrong with our paperwork?”

  Zack considered how best to explain the bureaucratic mess Kaitlin Price had created. “Some things weren’t filled out right on the forms. Do you remember Miss Price?”

  “Sure,” Lucas said. “She brought us here.”

  “That’s right. She was in a hurry to get you settled with August, and she forgot to fill out a few forms.”

  “Are they filled out now?” Chip asked.

  “Yes,” Zack assured them.
/>   Josh leaned forward to balance his chin in his hands. “Did you have to talk to the judge?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did he say we could stay?” asked Bo.

  Zack carefully weighed his answer. “He said he’d look everything over and make a decision next week.”

  Lucas frowned. “That means maybe not.”

  “What about Ms. Keegan’s lawyer?” Bo said. “He called today.”

  “Yeah.” Jeff shifted to his knees. “He yelled at August”

  August shook her head. “He’s not going to take you away from me.”

  Zack concurred. “That’s right.”

  “How about that man?” Chip asked. “He says he can take Teddy no matter what the judge says.”

  “He can’t.” Zack leaned back in his chair and studied the worried faces around him. How well he remembered these questions. His brothers and sisters had turned to him so often for this kind of comfort. Then, he’d given it glibly, all the while terrified that he might be wrong. Some things, he supposed, never changed. “If he wants to try and take Teddy away, he’ll have to go to court. We’ll talk to the judge, and the judge will ask Teddy what he wants. If Teddy doesn’t want to go, he won’t have to.”

  “But he can’t talk!” Bo wailed. “How’s he ’posed to tell the judge what he wants if he can’t talk?”

  Zack rubbed a hand on Bo’s head. “Don’t worry. The judge will figure it out.”

  “Maybe we should all talk to the judge,” Jeff suggested. “We could tell him how mean that man is.”

  “Yeah.” Sam wiped his nose on his sleeve. “And that he hit August.”

  “And that you hit him,” Chip said.

  “And so did Grandma,” Josh said again.

  “I’d leave that part out,” August supplied.

  Lucas snorted. “I wish I’d hit him.”

  “Me too,” said Jeff.

  “Boys.” Zack injected enough sternness into his voice to guarantee their attention. “I meant what I said earlier. This is over. Nobody’s going to hit anybody. He’s gone, and he’s not coming back. Before you know it, we’ll even forget what he looks like.”