Kids on the Doorstep / Cop on Loan. Kimberly Van Meter
the faint sound of the television could be heard. He frowned. “I don’t think they should be watching so much TV. Rots your brain from what I hear.”
Gladys shooed him. “Stop being such a bear. Those babies could use a little pampering. Besides, now that we’ve gotten the court stuff out of the way we can start getting the older girls enrolled in school. They’re going to need some routine and stability after what they’ve been through and school will keep their minds busy. I’ve already placed a few calls. It’s going to be a couple days before we can track down Alexis’s transcripts but until then they’re going to need some clothes. They can’t go to school in those rags.”
He’d already been thinking about that, seeing as the clothes they showed up in weren’t fit to line a dog’s bed. “Maybe I could pick up a few pairs of jeans at the hardware store,” he speculated, which earned him a scowl from Gladys.
“Hardware store? You can’t put Rustlers on a bunch of girls. What’s wrong with you? They need pretty things, not work boots and coveralls. Leave it to me. I’m handy on the computer and Macy’s delivers anywhere in the United States.”
John fished his wallet out from his back pocket and pulled his credit card free from the plastic holder. He handed it to Gladys. “Buy them whatever they need,” he said. “I don’t care how much it costs.”
“John…that’s too generous,” Gladys protested softly but her eyes shone with love. She tucked the card into her apron pocket and gave his cheek a pat. “You’re a good man, Johnny. Now, go on and do something useful. Don’t you have horses to tend to?”
He did and Gladys giving him the go-ahead should’ve been a relief but he felt oddly compelled to check on the girls himself. He supposed that was only natural given the extreme circumstances but it still knocked him silly at odd moments that he was even in this situation. Him. The bachelor. With a house full of kids that he barely knew.
And despite his stern instruction not to, his thoughts kept pulling him in the direction of Renee. She ought to be the last person he was thinking about—just the fact that he was gave him serious pause—but he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit where his thoughts kept wandering. She truly looked stricken when the judge told her of Chloe’s injuries. Either she was a really good actress or she felt sick inside at the knowledge that her ex-husband had abused her baby. But the question that nagged at John was, why only Chloe? It seemed Jason Dolling had singled out that poor kid—not that he was going to win any parenting awards—but the other girls seemed to have been spared the brunt of his anger. Little Chloe didn’t fare the same. A shudder of discomfort shook him as he realized just how close Chloe may have come to leaving this world if it hadn’t been for her sisters, mostly Alexis, looking out for her. The doc found traces of arsenic lingering in Chloe’s system from the repeated doses slipped into her “special eggs.” Doc said she should be fine now but a few more doses and it could’ve been fatal. Peeking around the corner, he spied the three towheaded girls snuggled up to one another, watching television, and he knew there would be hell to pay if anyone—including their dingbat mother—tried to hurt them again.
He didn’t understand his own vehemence but he knew enough not to question it. What was true, was true and the protective feelings curling around his heart were solid even if he didn’t understand where they were coming from.
A FEW DAYS LATER, RENEE returned to the ranch that was her children’s temporary home and realized her palms were sweating. She could still see Alexis’s frozen expression, caught between her previous happiness and shock, and knew she was the cause of her daughter’s unpleasant reaction.
She knew better than to expect her daughters to run to her with open arms—least of all Alexis—but the open rejection hurt a lot more than she imagined it would. Today was the first of their scheduled visitations and Renee was going to make the most of her time with her girls. She didn’t chase them all over California and back again to give up now. She’d help them to understand why she left and why she would never leave them again. Renee fingered the small badge pinned in a discreet corner on the lapel of her jacket and prayed for strength before exiting the car and walking toward the house.
But before she reached the front door, that infernal rancher, John, once again intercepted her and she wanted to throw something heavy his way. She didn’t even try to hide her scowl as she said, “It’s my court appointed visitation day. Check your paperwork.”
“I know what day it is. I just want a few words first.”
She tensed. “Why?”
“I want to make sure you don’t try to pressure the girls into doing something they don’t want to do.”
“Excuse me?”
“I know you don’t think much of this arrangement. It’s pretty much written all over your face, much the same as it was in the courtroom, that you think this is a bunch of bullshit but at this point you’re in no place to judge. I don’t care about you or your feelings. All I care about is that those little girls aren’t hurt again by either of their parents. And let me give you a fair warning right now…if that ex-husband of yours even comes near these kids, I won’t hesitate to shoot him just for the sheer fun of it. So, if you and him are still cozy, make sure you give him that message. I’m not one to kid about things this important. You hearing me, Mrs. Dolling?”
Her first instinct was to slap him across his scruffy face for the insult he so casually tossed her way. Hadn’t he heard her when she said Jason stole their kids and she’d been chasing after them ever since? The very thought of being friendly much less cozy with Jason made her physically ill. But the very fact that this man who was no blood relation to her children was championing them in a way that their own father had not kept her hot words and temper in check—though the action was not without great effort on her part.
“I hear you just fine. I’m not deaf,” she said, meeting his steady gaze without flinching. She imagined that when this man stared people down he won most of the time. He was the kind of man who gave no quarter but expected none, either, yet somehow her girls had found the one soft spot in his heart and he wasn’t letting go. Her stomach gave a discomforting tingle and she slammed the door shut on wherever her thoughts were going. “Are you finished? I’ve waited months to see my kids. Despite your scintillating conversation skills, I didn’t come to see you.”
“Fair enough. I just wanted to make sure we’re clear. They’re inside. Mrs. Stemming will monitor your visit. Don’t give her any grief, either. She’s taken to the girls and I won’t have you upsetting her.”
What a wonderful opinion he had of her. “As long as she doesn’t give me any grief, I won’t feel the need to dish it out.”
And with that she started walking straight up the steps to the house. She didn’t wait for his approval or his invitation and gave the front door a solid knock. Her bravado did wonders for the appearance that she wasn’t scared to death of her own children but did little to stop her hands from shaking or her knees from weakening. She glanced over her shoulder and saw John watching her intently, his eyes never leaving her. She suppressed a shudder at that strong stare and knocked again. This time, the door opened and an older woman with a full head of white hair stood between her and her girls.
Renee tried putting on a cheerful face. No sense in making enemies purposefully, her own aunt used to say. “Hello…Aunt Gladys,” she said, trying for some sense of familiarity, hoping that it might soften any lingering hard feelings. “It’s been a long time. I’m Renee.”
“I know who you are.” Gladys’s expression was pinched and disapproving as she moved aside. “Come in. They’re waiting for you.”
Mean old bat. Wiping her slick palms across the seat of her pants she followed the older woman into the expansive ranch house and despite the foreign surroundings could sense that this house was warm and inviting with its lived-in look and strong masculine accents. She rounded the corner and there sat her girls, their little faces pulled into solemn masks filled with anxiety and trepidation, and her heart broke from a heavy combination of joy and