To Love and Protect

by Muriel Jensen

  “That’s my plan if all else fails. I’m gathering information. It’s just happening slowly because there’s a lot going on. Ten kids live here.”

  “Holy—”

  “Yeah. They’re great, but they make it hard to finish anything. They love to be part of whatever I’m doing and they have a lot of questions.” He paused to explain how Teresa’s foster home worked. “She seems to think most of the parents will be by to take their kids home before the holidays. Except for Soren, whose parents are both deceased.”

  “That sucks.”

  “Yes. And I promised they’d have the play set by the end of the week. Then we can devote ourselves to Corie’s problem.”

  “We?”

  “Yeah. You’ll still have more than a week’s vacation by the time we’re finished with the play set.”

  Grady made a show of indignation. “You’re taking advantage of our friendship, man.”

  “I am. But you’re lucky to have my friendship. I mean, your girl left you and your mother’s gambling away your inheritance in Reno. What have you got besides me?”

  Grady hung his head.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MOST OF THE week went by in weird harmony. Ben and Grady worked from dawn to dusk. Corie took them cold drinks and snacks. When Teresa delivered lunch, they spread out several blankets and all picnicked in the yard. Once the older children came home from school, they were kept at a safe distance to watch as Ben and Grady swung long pieces of lumber into place.

  Corie was sent to Wolf’s for wood clamps and an extra cordless drill and batteries, and a ratchet with socket.

  At night it took several trips with a wheelbarrow to put all the fittings in the shed. They covered the assembled and loose pieces with tarpaulins and kept the floodlight on in the backyard to discourage theft.

  By Friday, the project was recognizable as a very sophisticated play set. The swing beam had three positions that included a two-person glider. A solid climbing wall about five feet tall was positioned near a wave slide and both led up to a large clubhouse with a lookout balcony. It had arches at the top to prevent little heads from being bumped. There were also wooden steps rather than rungs to allow the younger children to climb up to it.

  The lower deck area featured a sandbox and several seats and a picnic table.

  Teresa walked around it in awe. Corie sat in the gravel, overwhelmed by the gift Ben had given them.

  “This is so wonderful,” Teresa said while Ben gently pushed Bianca and Tonio on the swings. “And the kids are out of school next week for the holidays, so this will be such a treat for them—and for me.” She laughed and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you.” She blew a kiss to Grady, who waved back.

  Corie felt her take on the world shift, readjust. She’d known life wasn’t all bad, but her little part of it had had its challenges. Teresa had brought so much light into Corie’s life, and working with the children, then with Hector and his crew, had made each day more promising than the one before. But a future with a husband and children had seemed out of the realm of possibility. Her past was so murky; she didn’t think she had the right to inflict that on anyone else. And then she’d met this man who’d given her nothing but trouble.

  And a playground.

  And, strangely, hope.

  Ben kept insisting that she had to go home with him to spend Christmas with their family, who didn’t seem to notice that she didn’t fit in. Not that she’d ever leave Teresa over the holidays.

  When the older children came home from school, they went crazy, dropping lunch boxes and schoolbooks on the ground and running for the play set as though they’d never seen anything like it before.

  Corie knew their school had a playground, but the community was not very well funded and the equipment was old. She often took the children to the park to play on the relatively newer monkey bars and big spinner but even those now seemed dated in comparison.

  Soren scrambled up the rock wall like a monkey, then climbed onto the walkway, took the stairs and emerged in the clubhouse. He leaned over the railing to wave at them.

  “Good grief,” Teresa moaned. “We’ll have to hire a nurse. Or put 9-1-1 on speed dial.”

  Grady joined them. “We’ll have a serious talk with them about being careful,” he said.

  Teresa, Corie and Ben shared a knowing look. Ben laughed and leaned an elbow on Grady’s shoulder. “You’re such an innocent. Corie threatens them with permanent loss of dessert. That’s usually the only thing that’s effective.”

  Grady nodded, accepting his comeuppance. “Sorry. Not much experience with children. I’m still a bachelor. Intend to remain a bachelor.”

  Both women turned to him with interest. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “Dangerous job. Can’t trust women. Happy on my own.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Corie patted his arm sympathetically. “I’m sorry about your girlfriend, but maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. And you never know what’s around the corner. You might meet the perfect woman tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Grady looked doubtful.

  “Well, by Christmas for sure.”

  * * *

  THE ADULTS SAT around the kitchen table long after the children had gone to bed and listened to Grady’s stories about life in the Beggar’s Bay police department. He was interrupted by a light knock on the door.

  Ben went to the window first, wondering who would be stopping by at such a late hour. He saw a slight figure he didn’t recognize waiting in front of the door. “It’s a woman,” he said.

  “It’s okay.” Grady had followed him to the door. “Open it. I’ll protect you.”

  Ben pulled the door open. A pretty, young woman in jeans and a denim jacket looked up at Ben in worried surprise.

  “I... Where is Teresa?” Her wide, dark eyes grew a little wild.

  “Catalina!” Teresa rushed past Ben and Grady as the young woman extended her arms and began to weep.

  “Oh, Teresa. I saw them and I thought you had moved or something. Is he okay? I’m sorry it’s so late and that I didn’t call first, but I have a job now!”

  “Lina, it’s so good to see you.”

  “I’m going to keep house for an older couple in San Antonio. They travel a lot and want to have someone to look after the house when they’re gone. And they don’t mind that I have a child. They had their son drive me here to pick him up.”

  “I’m so happy for you.”

  Corie forced her way in to hug the woman. “Catalina. How wonderful! You won’t believe how big he’s gotten.”

  Grady looked to Ben for an explanation. Ben shook his head to indicate he wasn’t sure what was happening, except that this must be one of the children’s mothers.

  “You sit down,” Teresa said. “I’ll go get him.”

  “Can I come?” Catalina asked, putting a battered brown purse on the sofa. “I can’t wait to see him.”

  Teresa put an arm around her and led her to the stairs. Corie went up with them.

  “Which child?” Grady asked.

  “Must be Roberto, the little guy. The other four boys are brothers.”

  Teresa had been right about the kids going home for Christmas—at least Roberto. Ben was surprised to find he was almost as sad as he was happy. Teresa’s home was losing its youngest, the toddler everyone in the household had rocked or fed or played with.

  Catalina led the way down the stairs, the sleepy toddler in her arms. He was fussy and rubbing his eyes. She crooned to him in Spanish.

  Teresa and Corie followed, the other children in pajamas in step behind them. The women’s smiles were strained and the children looked upset. The Flores girls held hands and the Santiago boys stood with uncharacteristic quiet as the women hugged and said their goodbyes.

&nb
sp; Roberto started to cry, probably not recognizing his mother. He reached a little hand toward Teresa and Corie. Most of the other children struggled with tears. Only Soren and Rosie stood by in gloomy silence.

  Corie carried a small tote bag that probably held Roberto’s belongings. “I’ll carry this out for her,” she said to Teresa. “I’ll be right back.”

  Ben felt called upon to do something but didn’t know what. So he just waded into the middle of the sniffling children. The Santiago boys crowded around him as Teresa embraced the Flores girls.

  Corie returned and paused in the doorway to wave into the darkness. They heard the tap of a horn as she closed the door. Ben saw her take a moment, toss her hair, before she turned to the gloomy little group.

  “I know you’re all sad to see Roberto leave us,” she said to the children, “but this is what we do here. We take care of each other until your parents come to take you home. That’s what we all want, right? For families to get back together?”

  That seemed to strike a chord and the children’s tears gradually stopped. Soren looked a little lost. Rosie nodded.

  “His mom’s going to send us pictures,” Corie said, guiding the children toward the stairs. “And she’s working at a big house in San Antonio. The lady she works for says we can go and visit sometime.” Teresa followed and beckoned Ben to come along. He guessed that putting the children back to bed was going to be a three-person job.

  * * *

  IT WAS AFTER ten when Ben and Corie finally settled in her house and Grady drove to the B and B.

  Corie was quiet.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, pouring a cup of coffee. “I know the kids going home is what you work for, but it’s obviously very hard on everybody. I’m sure all the other kids were not only thinking they’d miss Roberto but wondering if they were going to have their turn soon.”

  “Yes. I’ve dealt with these reunions since I moved in with Teresa, and it never gets easier. Each child is special, and knowing they’re going out of your life, probably forever, is hard to adjust to.” She sat wearily at the kitchen table and leaned her chin in the palm of her hand. “I wonder what it’s like to live in a family where that doesn’t happen. I mean, I know Teresa’s home is a different situation, but my whole childhood was one disruption after another.”

  She sighed deeply then dropped her hand to the table. “I apologize for whining. I just wonder what it feels like to have that stability. Teresa gave me that, in a way, except that the kids that came and went from her house were like my siblings and they were always leaving.”

  “I’m sure stability is the best thing in the world for a kid,” Ben said, pouring her a coffee, too, and putting it on the table in front of her. Teresa had sent them home with Christmas cookies the children had made, and he put the tin in the middle of the table. “We feel safe, protected, and that makes it easier to live in this world. But Jack didn’t have any of that until he was eight and moved in with my parents and me. Though he had trouble with nightmares when he came home from Afghanistan, he’s the most grounded individual you’d ever want to know. You’ve seen him in action. He’s good and loving and not afraid of anything.”

  He sat across the table from her. “You’re so much like him and yet you had an even harder time as a child than he did.” He looked into her eyes and gave her a rueful smile. “Teresa told me about your stepmother.” He made a sound in his throat as though he didn’t have a word for what he felt. He shook his head. “Point is...” He suddenly smiled with reluctant affection. “You have an alarming propensity to do things the hard way but somehow you remain...lovable. For a man guided by the straight and narrow that’s hard to understand.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “You find me lovable?” Relax, she told herself as her heartbeat accelerated just a little. That’s not the same as saying I love you.

  He shrugged, as though unable to help himself. “I do.”

  “But how can you find someone lovable when you don’t completely trust them?”

  He took a long gulp of coffee. “I trust you. I believe you had nothing to do with Tyree’s jewelry. After you stole it the first time, I mean.”

  “That must be why you wouldn’t let me hold the necklace that was planted here.”

  “I’m better able to fend off muggers.”

  She chose a slightly crooked, creatively blue-frosted candy cane from the tin, no longer offended by whatever suspicions he still had about her. Even she wasn’t sure about herself sometimes.

  “There are moments when I feel like I don’t know who I am. I mean, I used to. I was that Ochoa brat. Then Jack found me, you entered my life and now...” She contemplated the cookie. “I’m the Ochoa brat with the good brothers. That’s changing my identity.”

  “You have one brother,” he corrected. “I’m family, but I’m not your brother. Let’s not get that confused.”

  “It is confusing. There’s no getting around it. The whole Palmer-Manning family is a strain to grasp.”

  “The rest of us are doing fine with it. You’re the only one who seems to have a problem.”

  She was too tired now for such serious conversation, because she knew he wasn’t talking about the whole family. He was talking about her and him. She pushed away from the table, taking her cup and her cookie with her.

  “I’m pooped,” she said. “I’m going to bed.”

  He prodded. “You just don’t want to talk about belonging, do you?”

  “No,” she said frankly and started to walk away. Then she turned to add, “Maybe later. Good night, Ben.”

  He toasted her with his mug. “Good night, Corie.”

  * * *

  HE WOKE IN the middle of the night to the sounds of a motor. He rose up off the floor and, staying low, peered out the window, thinking a car had pulled up, that someone might be watching the house. But the street was empty. The sound stopped then started again and he realized it wasn’t a car—and it was coming from Corie’s room.

  A little concerned, he went to the back of the house. Her door was closed though a slit of light was visible under it. He took advantage of a break in the sound to knock.

  “Come in,” she called.

  He pushed the door open—and walked into what looked like a garment factory. Garments for children. Half-finished jackets in bright colors and unusual combinations of fabric were strewed all over her bed. They were cheerful jackets, and no child wearing one would ever wander off unnoticed.

  She worked at a sewing machine in the corner of her room, and turned with an elbow on the back of her chair. She wore a baggy, light blue robe and an apologetic smile. “I woke you, didn’t I? It’s all your fault. You gave me fully leaded coffee when we came home. Since I couldn’t sleep, I thought I’d do something useful.”

  “Cool stuff.” He looked over the jackets again, most of them almost finished.

  “I’m trying to get Roberto’s done so I can take it to the post office tomorrow. Catalina left us their address.”

  He picked up a jacket with a lot of yellow. “Who’s this for?”

  “Bianca. She loves ducks. The front is made from a jacket she wore when the girls came to Teresa.” Corie pointed to the embroidered duck. “She fell on the playground at school and tore it. But she loved the jacket so much, we couldn’t throw it away. So I backed it with a strong fabric then repaired it by embroidering the daisies and the duck.”

  Her thoughtfulness and the simple cleverness of the design made him smile. “So, this is your gift.”

  She nodded, smiling, too. “Yes, for Christmas. For all of the kids.”

  He put the jacket down. “No, I meant this work is your gift. Your talent. This is why you went to New York.”

  “Oh. Yes, I guess. I’m not sure it can be considered a gift.”

  “The jackets are wonderful.”
<
br />   “Thanks. I kind of like them.”

  “Have you thought about going back to school? You know...learn more about design. Your instincts seem right on, but maybe with more education in the field, you wouldn’t have to work for someone else. You could open your own place.”

  She made a noncommittal gesture, bobbing her head from side to side. “It’s expensive. And I’d feel out of place back at school.”

  “Maybe that’s a discomfort you’re putting on yourself. You just admitted tonight that you feel like you’re changing into a different version of yourself. Take a step back and get a clearer picture. Put aside all the ugly stuff, or just accept that it’s part of you. Put it in the past and move ahead. Belonging isn’t that hard.”

  “I don’t think so.” She was irritated at his suggestion. He wasn’t surprised. So he may as well go all out.

  “It’s easier to find fault with the world, to let yourself feel out of place and to choose not to fit in, than to take on the challenge and live your dreams. I don’t think the world’s pushing you away, you’re doing it to yourself. As far as the expense of school, I could help. Or, if you’d hate that, I’m sure there’s financial aid available somewhere.”

  A lifetime of self-sufficiency gave her almost visible defensive spikes. “Not your worry, Ben.”

  He folded his arms, his own annoyance sparking. “Do we really have to go over the family dynamic again?”

  She turned back to her sewing machine. “Please let’s not.”

  He followed her. “Okay, if you feel out of place with the Palmers, too, then what about just accepting help from a friend? You do know how to be a friend?”

  She turned off the machine and, removing the piece she’d been working on, folded it and put it aside. “As a friend, I’m sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep. I’m going to bed.”

  “Okay, you can dismiss me—what is this, the third time now?—but you can’t make the issue go away. You can’t pout and react like a cornered cat for the rest of your life. Do you really want to live Teresa’s life and let your own skill and talent go to waste because this is easier?”