by Camille Eide
Heart sinking, he held back. Since a “religious group home” was of no value to her, she clearly had no use for God. So how had she gotten past it? Because without the healing love of Christ, Joe knew without a doubt he’d still be one angry man, poisoned by bitterness over the things he’d endured.
Sue gathered the rest of the bags. “Thanks for lunch. I’ll repay you.”
“For a birthday lunch? Yeah, right.” He shook his head. “That’s against the rules.”
A half smile quirked up a corner of her mouth. “See, another reason I don’t like birthdays. Rules.”
Joe chuckled and fired up the truck. When he took out his phone and saw he’d missed a call, he listened to the message and chuckled again. The electrical panel he needed was available at a store across town.
Thank you, Father.
As he headed to the supply store, Joe found a radio station playing oldies rock and roll and kept the volume low.
Sue dozed, face relaxed, both hands resting on her stuffed belly.
Chapter Nine
Standing at her bathroom mirror, Sue shifted her weight and checked the strain on her leg. Not too bad, but she hadn’t gotten permission to lose the crutches yet. And she’d have to wear the brace for the first few weeks of physical therapy, but with a little luck and hard work, maybe it would come off early and she could go for a ride. A much needed ride.
The state inspector still hadn’t come, and the wait was making her nerves feel like violin strings stretched miles past their limit.
She brushed her hair. How had it gotten so long? Of course, she hadn’t had time for a trim in ages. The layers reached well past her shoulders now, the curls falling long and loose.
Such a pretty girl.
She’d heard it enough times to know it wasn’t just the creeps who thought so. Though working for the county had meant wearing a more polished look, she’d always avoided anything that drew attention to her figure. For as long as she could remember, she’d had a way of bringing out the worst in men. But a clean face and baggy clothes only did so much. It had taken growing a cold shoulder and brisk demeanor to make the hands-off message perfectly clear.
Her reflection showed her hair in a shining cascade over one shoulder. The hair and her small, full lips made her look like one of those sultry movie stars from the ’40s.
Was that what people saw when they looked at her?
What did Joe see?
Sue quickly wove her hair into a tight braid, then headed for the main house. Inside, she checked on the kids working in the study.
Cori and Tatiana were helping Linda, another temp, make fliers about the fundraiser sale to put up in town and mail to neighboring communities.
“Hey, Miss Susan,” Chaz said. “I got an idea. Invite the flight school to send pilots to do aerial stunts. That’ll draw a ginormous crowd.”
“I’m sure it would,” Sue said, smiling. She wheeled Donovan and Daisy into the dining hall and read to them for an hour, then went outside. Vince and Deeg were cleaning out the chicken coop while Sonja and Haley worked on sorting recycling. Sue met Edgar hauling a large box out of the shop, trailed by Ringo. Sue crutched into the building.
Elena had Brandi toting bags of stuff from the shop to the burn barrel out back, while Jasmine swept the floor. Someone was under the hood of the Suburban.
Sue moved around to the front.
Joe was up to his elbows in motor. When he should have been taking the day off.
“Hi. What are you doing?”
Joe wiped his hands on a rag and straightened. “Seeing what it’ll take to get your rig running.” As he turned to her, his eyes roamed over her face and hair. “I meant to tell you I was going to work on it. Hope that’s okay.”
“Yes, of course. I meant why are you working on stuff today? You’ve finished the inspection list, and it’s your day off.”
He shrugged. “Just looking for something to do.” A dark grease smudge across his forehead added a comical look to his raised brow.
Sue felt an insane urge to wipe away the smudge but held back. Joe seemed different somehow. Maybe it was the crop of thick, dark hair coming in. Why was he letting it grow back? He and Vin Diesel on the outs?
She met his gaze. “Thanks, but you really don’t have to work off the clock.”
His grin faded a tad. “I know that, but I like to keep busy.” His voice deepened. “If it’s all the same to you.”
There were plenty of reasons he shouldn’t work for free. And she didn’t like the idea of owing him any favors, but what could she say?
Beyond him, the workbench was clean, the big tools hung up, the smaller ones in labeled boxes.
She turned back to Joe, a twinge of shame tugging at her. “I don’t think I’ve told you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done and how quickly you finished the list. Thank you.”
Joe’s gaze held hers for several long seconds, then he gave a slight nod. “My pleasure.”
“Pleasure?” Sue laughed. The job he’d accepted could hardly be anyone’s idea of pleasure.
His eyes fell to her mouth and lingered. Then, in an abrupt move, he turned back to inspect the engine. “How’s the knee?”
“Better, but the recovery pace is killing me. I start physical therapy on Friday.” Sue squared her shoulders. “I’ll need someone who’s not care staff to drive me there. Do you mind?”
He lifted a black rubber cap and tugged on some wires. “Sure,” he said finally, his tone quiet. “No problem.”
Sue glanced behind the Suburban at her old Sportster. A thin coat of dust dulled the red tank and black seat and fogged the chrome. She crutched closer and took a rag to it.
Joe shut the hood, then came around and stood beside her. “That yours?”
“Yeah.” Sue rubbed a scratch on the seat. “I bet it’s the first Harley you’ve ever seen custom lowered to fit a five-foot-two woman.”
Joe gave the bike an approving nod. “Sweet. Not the bike you wrecked on, I take it.”
“No. That was my old Honda XL100.”
“Was? Where is it now?”
“Probably lying in a twisted heap somewhere at the bottom of the ravine.”
“Whoa.” Joe shook his head. “Must have been a scary ride.”
Forcing back images of tumbling through the brush-filled, stony ravine, she suppressed a shudder. “Yeah, it wasn’t much fun.”
“Which ravine?”
“Come outside and I’ll show you.”
Joe followed Sue out the door and down the drive until the ridge was in sight.
She pointed. “Just over that hill. There’s a canyon between Juniper Ridge and Table Rock.” She let out a wry chuckle. “I know, not the most ideal place to ride.”
Joe squinted at the ridge top. “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve ridden worse.” A slow grin softened the muscular contours of his face. “A lot worse.”
She could easily picture him straddling a massive cruiser. “In Alaska?”
“Yeah. My friend David and I rode whenever we could.”
What would cruising full throttle on an open stretch of Alaskan road feel like? She sighed. “I bet that was a blast.”
“Some of the best times I’ve ever had.”
“But … you probably didn’t ride as a kid, if your life in foster care was anything like mine.”
Joe turned to her with that drilling look of his. “No, I didn’t do anything like that until later. As soon as I turned eighteen, I sort of started over. In more ways than one.”
His answer reminded Sue of a question that Layne had brought to her attention the day before. “Joe, something turned up in your background check that confuses me.”
Although his gaze didn’t flinch, something in his eyes turned slightly wary.
“There seem to be records of you under two different names. One is Joseph Paterson, and the other is Joseph Jacobs. Is that correct? Or was there a mistake?”
Joe’s jaw tensed. “It’s right.”
&
nbsp; A tingle of apprehension crept up her spine. “Why two names?”
Joe stuffed his hands into his pockets. “My little brother and I were adopted by the Jacobs family when I was eight.” He glanced down and toed at a scruff of cheatgrass in the driveway. “I’d taken care of Ben since he was a baby, so I was glad they took us both. But the adoption didn’t work out, and I went back to foster care.” He kicked at the clump of grass until it came loose. “After I turned eighteen, I went back to using my biological name.”
It took a moment for the meaning of his words to sink in. Joe had been the victim of a terminated adoption. Rejected and abandoned, just like the kids Sue cared for. The weight of the news pressed against her heart. “I’m so sorry, Joe. How old were you when the Jacobs family sent you away?”
“Ten.”
“What about your little brother?”
His gaze shifted to some point in the desert beyond her. “I heard they sent him away too, later.”
“Were you two ever reunited?”
“No, I never saw him again. I’ve tried to find him, but …” Lips pursed, Joe shook his head, then gazed across the desert in silence.
How long had it taken him, just a child, to get over being ripped from his family, and worse, torn from his only brother? Poor little guys. Sue blinked back tears.
Joe turned to her and stilled. A vulnerable look softened his features.
Of course, he’d probably never fully gotten over it. No one really did. “Joe, I’m so sorry. How anyone could do that …” Sue stopped herself before the emotion choking her voice gave way to something else. Something childish and embarrassing.
As she held her breath to quell it, Joe’s gaze remained locked on hers.
The air between them suddenly went still. Her sympathy melted into another kind of emotion that seemed to radiate from her in waves.
“Hello?” A male voice called out from behind her.
Sue turned.
A man in a button-down work shirt and jeans, clipboard in hand, descended the porch steps and headed toward them.
“Looks like inspection time,” Joe said quietly. “I’ll be in the shop if you need me.”
The man approached her with his state inspector’s badge in hand.
Sue stole a peek at Joe’s tall frame and broad shoulders as he headed toward the shop. Joseph, a young boy sent away from his family to live among strangers, scared and alone.
All of the sudden, Joe Paterson didn’t seem so big after all.
* * *
Bertie clocked on and joined Sue in the office while the inspector finished writing up his report. He made a couple of Xs, then turned the clipboard to Sue and asked her to sign.
With a trembling hand, Sue took the pen. She had to look twice to see that the box next to Compliant was checked. She exhaled and signed on the line, smiling. As Bertie showed him out, Sue sank into her desk chair.
Bertie spun around, grinning like a cartoon cat—wearing purple tie-dye and John Lennon glasses. “You did it!”
“We did it.” Sue grinned. “No. You know what? Joe did it.”
Bertie’s eyebrows danced. “Told you he was good.”
Sue stood, her heart singing. “I’m going to go tell him.”
“Sorry, boss, no can do. He’s gone.”
“What?” Her pulse kicked up. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”
“He took off in his truck. Said he needed to go into town.”
So he wasn’t gone gone. “Did he say when he’d be back?”
Bertie shook her head. “Nope.”
Of course Joe needed some time away from the ranch and the kids after all the work he’d done. It was just too bad he wasn’t around to hear the good news.
She pulled out her phone and found his number.
But then again, maybe she shouldn’t bother him on his day off. Passing the inspection probably wasn’t as important to him as it was to her. He had no personal stake in the ranch. Why should he? He was leaving soon.
With a sinking heart, she gave Bertie a brisk nod. “Well, good. That’s out of the way. The next mountain to tackle is the fundraiser.”
“You sure don’t waste a second, do you? Well, congratulations, anyway.” She shuffled out, muttering, “Party’s over, everyone. Back to work.”
They needed to pay off the past-due mortgage and get the bank off her back. Then they could party.
Sue headed toward the dining hall and collided with a breathless Jasmine. “Whoa, kiddo. Where’s the fire?”
Wide-eyed, Jasmine tugged on Sue’s sleeve. “Come! Now!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Brandi!” She ran for the stairs.
“What is it?” Sue followed the girl. “Did she do something to you?”
“No.” Jasmine grasped Sue’s wrist and tugged her up the steps. “To Brandi!”
“What do you mean?”
Jasmine turned, her face a mask of panic. She thrust an upturned wrist in Sue’s face and made a slashing motion across it with her other hand. “Brandi has knife!”
Sue climbed the stairs as fast as she could.
Chapter Ten
“Open the door, Brandi!” Sue tried to force the bathroom door open, but it wouldn’t budge.
From behind the door came rustling and hurried movement.
Fear of what the girl was doing to herself shot through Sue’s veins like ice. “Brandi! Let me in!”
Jasmine froze, eyes wide.
Cori and Haley came running from the stairs, and Haley covered her mouth. “Did she cut again? Is she going to get sent away?”
“No!” Brandi’s voice was a growl. The door cracked open half an inch.
Sue shoved a foot in the crack and threw her weight against the door, forcing it open.
Inside, Brandi backed away. “I didn’t cut, Miss Susan, I swear.” Her pleading look hardened to a glare as she spied Jasmine in the hall. “Little freak snitch!”
Eyes fixed on Brandi, Sue said quietly, “Haley, go with Jasmine and Cori down to the kitchen and join Miss Elena’s crew.” Sue closed the door behind her and called Bertie on her cell for reinforcement. Then she turned to Brandi. “Tell me where the knife is, Brandi. Don’t move, just tell me.”
The girl shook her head. “I wasn’t going to do it.”
Sue gave her a dead level eye-to-eye. “Where is it?”
Brandi shrugged.
“Okay. Against the wall, please, and show me your arms.”
Rolling her eyes, the girl backed against the wall, pushed up her sweatshirt sleeves, and raised both arms.
No visible marks.
But when the girl moved again, Sue caught a whiff of something that nearly gagged her. “Where’d you get the beer, Brandi?”
“Aw, man. It wasn’t me, I swear. I fell in the mud at soccer practice and I had to borrow another girl’s jersey. The beer spill was already there.” Her voice rose. “I wasn’t drinking!”
Sue made a mental note of every word Brandi said so she could document the incident later. “Miss Roberta will check you for marks. You’ll need to remove your street clothes.”
A knock at the door came, then Bertie’s voice. “Sue?”
Sue called her in, never taking her eyes from the girl in case she had the knife on her.
Bertie entered the bathroom and inspected Brandi. “She’s clear.”
“See? I told you I didn’t cut.”
Sue nodded. “Miss Roberta, please search the gym bag for a knife. And anything else that doesn’t belong there.”
As Bertie checked the bag, Brandi chewed on her lip. Her eyes weren’t tracking right.
Sue stepped closer and sniffed.
“I wasn’t drinking, Miss Susan, I swear. Smell my breath. You can have me tested or whatever. I wouldn’t do that. You know I don’t want to go back to that juvie hospital. Please don’t send me away—I have to stay here. Please!”
“Found it.” Bertie held up a Swiss army knife, then pocketed it.
Bran
di swore beneath her breath.
“Okay. Give her back her clothes, but not the jersey. I need to see that.”
As Brandi got dressed, Sue inspected the soccer jersey. Brandi was right—it wasn’t hers. It had a stain on the front and carried the faint but unmistakable smell of beer. “Where’s your jersey?”
Brandi wiped tears from her eyes. “I hung it up to let the mud drip off. I guess I left it there.”
“Which high school girls were you hanging out with at practice?”
Bertie wrote down the names as Brandi spoke. The girl wasn’t usually prone to crying nor this compliant. Something was off. It was hard to tell if this was the effect of alcohol or genuine fear of being sent away.
The teen’s last cutting offense had ended with a warning that if it ever happened again, she’d be sent to a juvenile facility until she turned eighteen.
Frustration burned in Sue’s heart, but she kept herself from showing it. If Brandi were sent away now, it would go on her record and might land her in a place where her life would never be the same. Her semi-normal life here, filled with privileges, sports, and a measure of independence, would be stripped away. Any hope Sue had of seeing Brandi make something of herself could be ruined with one phone call.
And yet Sue had a rule to uphold, a decision to make. “Brandi, you were already on probation from last time. What were you doing with a knife? Where did you get it?”
Scowling, Brandi wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I got it from Megan’s little brother. I was … only thinking about it.” She lifted her face, chin quivering. “The girls were bragging about how their families were all at the tournament last weekend and how even their grandparents came, and I felt like a piece of dirt, you know? I had to listen to that and all I could think of was how nobody cares squat about me. Nobody. I just … felt so alone.” A fresh wave of tears streamed down her face. “Part of me wanted to do it. But I didn’t.”
Bertie cleared her throat.
Sue glanced at the older woman. Her expression was hard to read, but she didn’t seem too moved by the girl’s story.
Brandi ignored Bertie and pleaded with Sue. “I only wanted to hold it, just for a while. Having the knife made me feel like I was in control, you know? But I wasn’t going to use it.” Her eyes begged. “I don’t want to get sent away and lose everything I’ve worked for.”
