A Family for Tyler. Angel Smits
Emily there was more than the appointment on her clerk’s mind. She knew Dianne wouldn’t volunteer.
“Okay, what’s up?” she prodded.
Dianne tried to pretend surprise. “Why? Nothing.”
“I can see the wheels turning in your head.”
“Oh, fine.” Dianne paused. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“With Drew? No.”
“No. With this court case.”
“Of course I do.” Emily grabbed her purse and the briefcase she’d stuffed with the case files she thought she might need, plus files to read at home tonight.
“Mmm-hmm.” Dianne looked over those infernal glasses. “The caseworker has done most of the required work. Just because it’s not in the final form doesn’t mean you have to double-check it.” That look—over the glasses—said there was no escaping her questioning.
“Look.” Emily leaned against Dianne’s desk. “I’ll feel better seeing things for myself.” She really did appreciate Dianne’s concern. “Besides, you’re always after me to get out of the office.”
“I meant to do something fun. Not more work.”
“Hey, maybe this will be fun.” Emily smiled and hustled out the door before Dianne’s words could totally catch up to her.
“Someday you’re going to have to learn to trust someone.” Dianne’s words slipped through the door right behind Emily and kept bouncing around in Emily’s mind as she drove through the desert.
Warm midday sunshine poured in the sunroof and landed squarely on Emily’s shoulders. The car’s air-conditioning made the West Texas heat bearable—but she still felt the damp sweat drench her body.
She was nervous doing something she really shouldn’t, something totally out of her routine. Out of her element.
But as she’d told Dianne, she needed to do this. It couldn’t hurt, and if the little boy was at risk, as Emily feared, she’d save herself and the system a great deal of pain—not to mention Tyler.
And so she drove through the backcountry, through places that reminded her of so much hurt, risking her impartiality in a case simply to give herself peace of mind for a while.
Emily hadn’t driven out here in ages. The grasslands and desert of Southwestern Texas was a place she barely acknowledged, much less thought about. She stayed in town, lived her life, ignored where she’d come from.
The two-lane highway wound through the hills, dissecting the desert along with dozens of dirt roads and driveways that led deep into the ranches. Ten miles to the north her grandfather’s ranch sat, abandoned, its pastures rented out to another rancher up the road. The plot of land her mother had recently left sat another ten miles beyond that.
The Hawkins ranch was closer to town than Emily had ever lived. She’d looked at it on the county map. He might live modestly, but he was land rich, with a large spread that ran along one of the large rivers that bisected the area.
Her hands sweaty around the steering wheel, she tried to focus on the pavement reaching out in front of her, staring at the yellow stripes. All she had to do was get there, take a look around and head back to town.
Breathing in deep, she swallowed the panic rising in her throat. Maybe she should just turn her car around and trust in the system she’d always believed in. She slowed again, this time her eyes on the road ahead instead of the potholes in her past.
A movement at the edge of the road ahead startled her. She hadn’t passed anyone in nearly a quarter of an hour. Surely no one was out walking in this heat. It must be the shimmering illusion on the horizon.
Whatever or whoever it was ahead kept moving. She braked to slow down even more. It was someone walking. A child. She pushed the brake again.
Tyler.
Her heart sank. What had happened? Why had his uncle let him come out here alone? She envisioned the tall, handsome man who’d been in her office yesterday. He’d been very clear that he wasn’t the type to abandon anyone, but the evidence was right before her. Then another thought came to mind. What if something had happened to Wyatt?
She slammed on the brakes this time, pulling off the two-lane road and onto the soft dirt at the shoulder. Dust settled around the tires as she opened the door. Hot air slammed into her, and she wanted more than anything to crawl back into the air-conditioned interior.
But the sight of the little boy trudging along beside the road stopped her. “Tyler?” she called, not wanting to scare him.
He stilled then looked up at her. His eyes widened and rather than stopping, he broke into a run. The backpack he’d been carrying tumbled to the ground and he dragged it through the dust. The scrape of the cheap plastic on the rough rocks was loud.
“Tyler, wait!” She jogged after him. She was wearing a suit with a knee-length skirt and matching pumps. Definitely not running clothes.
But Tyler’s eight-year-old legs were short and the backpack was obviously heavy. She was out of breath and soaked with sweat when she finally caught up to him. He yelped and tried to kick her as she grabbed him.
“No,” he squealed.
“Tyler. Stop that.” Guilt almost made her let him go. Common sense told her he’d perish out here in the heat. She trudged back to the car, struggling to hold on to him. She’d have dozens of bruises, but at least he’d be alive.
The backpack scraped loudly beside them. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she tried to reassure him.
“I know that,” he yelled back, and she realized he was angry, not scared. The little rat. Her guilt faded a little.
Finally getting him to the car, she pulled open the passenger door and felt the last of the cooled air wash over them. She grabbed her water bottle and after plopping him on the seat, she handed it to him. “Here.”
He let go of the backpack, and she grabbed it and tossed it into the backseat. She pulled on the seat belt and awkwardly buckled him in. If she ran around the car, she might get in before he was loose. Maybe.
With a wary eye, she closed the door and hustled around the front of the car. He had his belt unbuckled but hadn’t gotten the door unlocked or open before she was inside. She wrestled him for the belt and finally got it back in place.
“Sit,” she commanded, and it was enough to take the steam out of the boy. She thought for an instant that he was going to cry. But he didn’t. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his bottom lip out in a huge pout.
“Thank you.” She leaned back against the seat. “What are you doing out here?”
At first she wasn’t sure he’d answer. “Goin’ back to town.”
Emily’s heart sank. What had happened? All her fears leaped out of the hot desert. She’d been right to come out here.
The click of the seat belt brought her out of her thoughts. “Hold it.” She clicked the buckle back in place again. “Start talking.” She leaned back in the seat and cranked the ignition. After a second, cool air blasted from the vents. She aimed two of them at the boy. Tyler’s face was flushed but he nearly emptied the water bottle, so she thought he’d be okay.
“You can’t take me back.”
“Why not? Tell me why. I promise I’ll listen. Is your uncle so bad?”
“N-no. He’s okay. Even lets me ride horses.” The sound of longing was thick in his voice. “And pet a baby cow.”
“You like baby cows...er...calves?” He didn’t say anything, but the way his eyes lit up told her he did. “Then—did he hurt you?”
“No!” He glared at her. “He’s not bad.”