Kids on the Doorstep / Cop on Loan. Kimberly Van Meter
elaborate. A curse danced behind his teeth as he picked up clearly what she hadn’t said. Probably missed more than a few meals here and there judging by the sharp points of their shoulders. Neglect was a form of abuse, too. He’d saved more animals from the brink of starvation than he cared to count but seeing the evidence of neglect in children made his stomach clench with disgust. This was why he kept himself apart from nearly everyone except for the handful of family he had. On the whole, most people disappointed and annoyed him. In this case, he went way past annoyed and straight into pissed off.
“Follow me,” he instructed, his voice gruffer than he intended and he winced inwardly as he saw the baby flinch, her rail-thin arms clutching at her sister’s neck. Ah hell…he cursed himself for scaring her. These kids were traumatized to varying degrees but he could see the baby was particularly jumpy. He needed to treat them as he would a traumatized horse. Voice calm yet firm. Trying again, he said, “Let’s see what we can rustle up.”
He walked to the kitchen and flipped the light as he went. Reaching into the fridge he pulled out the beans and rice that he’d made earlier in the day.
Alexis had set the baby down to come and peer into the pots as he put them on the stove to reheat. “What’s this?” she asked, her eyes wary.
“Beans and rice. All I got on such short notice. Take it or leave it.”
Chloe scrambled to the table and climbed into the chair despite the fact that it was way too big for her small frame. The thick oak chair nearly swallowed the toddler but she didn’t seem to care as she eyed the pots with blatant desire. “I like beans,” she said.
Taylor joined her sister. “Me, too.”
John looked to Alexis but she was too busy checking out her surroundings. When she took her tentative spot at the table, he surmised that beans and rice were okay with her.
He grabbed three bowls, heaped a mound of rice and then dumped a ladleful of beans on top and handed the girls their dinner.
They shoveled the food into their mouths without reservation and as one bite cleared the spoon, they were digging in for the next. He wanted to ask when they’d eaten last but a part of him didn’t want to know. It would just intensify the burn that was already stoking his temper.
He decided to keep them talking in the hopes that the food would distract them into divulging some details about their situation. “So, where you girls from?”
“Arizona,” Taylor answered, scooping the last of her beans onto her spoon with her fingers. She looked to him with her empty bowl, her small tongue snaking out to lick her lips. “Is there more?”
Alexis looked up from her bowl. “Don’t be a little piglet.”
Taylor shot Alexis a scowl. “I’m no piglet. But I’m still hungry.”
John smiled and took Taylor’s bowl. “There’s plenty more where that came from. I made extra this time around.”
He handed Taylor her refilled bowl and focused on Alexis who seemed intent on her supper yet John got the sense that she was covertly taking everything in.
“What’s your mom’s name?” he asked.
Alexis ignored John’s question and, noticing that Chloe had stopped eating, pushed her bowl away. “We’re tired. Can we go to bed now?”
“Chloe’s not finished with her supper,” he said.
Alexis squared her jaw but remained silent. He wondered what was going through her head.
Sighing, he decided this battle wasn’t worth fighting. He wasn’t going to get any answers tonight. He was looking into the face of a child who knew something about keeping secrets. He hated to think of what the kid was hiding from. “All right, no more questions. Bedtime.”
The ranch house was plenty big enough for three small, uninvited guests and an elderly companion but the house rarely had so many people milling around, not since he and Evan were kids and their mom had once rented the extra rooms out to help make ends meet.
He gave them each one of his T-shirts to sleep in and after they’d changed in the adjoining bathroom, they ran to the bed.
Alexis helped Chloe up and Taylor climbed up by herself.
“You need anything else?” he asked gruffly.
“Mister—”
“John,” he corrected Chloe.
“Mr. John, do you have a mommy here?”
“A mommy?”
Alexis clarified. “She means do you have a wife?”
He shook his head. “No. Just me and the horses.”
Taylor, who had already snuggled into the pillows, sat up with a gap-toothed grin. “Horses?”
“That’s right. This is a horse ranch. I’ve got about ten stabled right now. Why? You like horses?”
Taylor nodded. “Can I see them tomorrow?”
He didn’t want to make promises. The first order of tomorrow would be to call the authorities. “We’ll see.”
Clicking off the light, he closed the door but not before catching a glimpse of Alexis’s face turned to the window, an incredibly sad expression on her young profile.
He suspected that little girl felt responsible for her sisters but there was only so much a child could do. It wasn’t right. But it happens. That was something he knew well. He just hated seeing it because it dredged up a litany of feelings he’d buried a long time ago. Something about that little girl’s expression poked and prodded at the tender spot in his heart in the same way an animal did that everyone else would rather give up on than save.
And to be honest, he didn’t know how he felt about that but he suspected his quiet life was about to get noisy.
Chloe coughed, the sound worrying him. No matter what else happened tomorrow, at the very least he was taking that baby to the doctor.
RENEE DOLLING DROVE SLOWLY down the dirt driveway, glancing once again at the address she’d scratched on a piece of paper before leaving Arizona, and prayed that Jason’s great-aunt hadn’t moved in the ten-plus years since she’d last seen the old woman. From what she remembered, Gladys Stemming was a mouthy one although harmless. But then, Renee had only met her once and who knew what she was like now.
She’d come here as a last-ditch effort. She’d been to all the usual places Jason used to frequent in their neck of the woods in Arizona and had come up empty. Far as Renee knew, Gladys was Jason’s only living relative so it served to reason, he might’ve taken the kids there before he split. If they weren’t here…
Think positive. You’ve gotten this far, don’t give up now.
She went to the door and knocked, the absolute stillness of the countryside unnerving her. She knocked again, harder than the first time but the sound just echoed into the inky dark. She glanced around, noted the absence of a vehicle as well as any other sign of civilization and fought the wave of despair. She didn’t even know if this was where Gladys still lived. Okay. Focus. Look for some kind of sign that she does, Renee instructed herself so she didn’t dissolve into a puddle of frustrated tears. Walking across the short porch, she peered into a window and saw the lumps of furniture but nothing that might tell her who lived there.
She rubbed her arms briskly. She’d forgotten how cold it got here. Stomping her feet to keep the circulation moving, she caught the shadowed outline of the mailbox at the end of the driveway. Climbing into the car, she drove to the edge of the road and pulled open the mailbox to feel inside.
Bingo.
Pulling a stack of mail, she glanced at the address and nearly went weak with relief. Gladys Stemming. She still lived here. But even as she thumbed through the hefty stack her elation was short-lived. Apparently, it’d