back with the napkin. Elias slipped it into his pocket, and headed for the jail.
This time Maribel wasn’t going to ignore him.
Maribel rushed through the sheriff’s door, a total wreck. She hadn’t even bothered to comb her hair, which in hindsight she should have. It had a natural curl and seemed to be everywhere. Taking a deep breath, she tucked it behind her ears.
She’d been looking for Chase all night and had been unable to find him. She’d let him take her car and he’d promised to be home by ten o’clock. When he wasn’t, Phoenix had let her borrow Rosie’s truck. She’d searched all over town to no avail, and then the sheriff had called.
This was so unlike her son. He was a good kid, but she knew he was still angry about the move from Dallas. At seventeen, he thought the world revolved around him. That was her fault. She’d spoiled him. Her world was crumbling around her and she wasn’t sure what to do next. First thing, she had to find a job because they couldn’t continue to live with Rosie and Phoenix. Chase’s disruptive behavior was causing problems and Maribel didn’t want the stress to affect her sister, so she had to find a place for her and Chase. But she had bigger problems now.
She stepped into a small reception area that had a desk and filing cabinets, but no one was there. The hall opened into a big room. Two desks were empty and a deputy sat at another, writing in a folder. To the left, in a separate room, was the sheriff’s office. The nameplate on the open door said Wyatt Carson—Sheriff. He was a nice-looking man, probably in his early forties. She didn’t remember him, but she remembered the Carson family.
With every ounce of courage she had left in her, she walked up to his desk, ignoring Elias, who was sitting in a chair. What was he doing here?
“Where’s my son?” she blurted out.
The sheriff got to his feet and nodded toward a hall and she could see the bars of a jail cell. “He’s in there.”
Her breath caught in her throat, but she quickly straightened her back to regain her composure. Doing so, she realized she hadn’t introduced herself. She held out her hand. “I’m Maribel McCray.”
He shook her hand. “Wyatt Carson.”
“What has he done?” She decided to go with patience and politeness instead of anger.
“He was arrested with two other boys for stealing beer from Rowdy’s and two other places.”
She shook her head. “No, you must have the wrong boy. My kid is—”
“—a good kid,” he finished for her. “I’ve had two other parents tell me the same thing tonight, but I assure you, your son was involved. Actually, he confessed to being the ringleader.”
Her stomach tied into a knot so tight she had trouble speaking. Chase was never in trouble. She licked her dry lips. “May I see him?”
The sheriff picked up a set of keys from his desk. “Sure, but leave your purse here.”
She placed her purse on the desk, fully aware that Elias was watching her every move. It surprised her that he wasn’t saying anything. Elias always had an opinion. She followed the sheriff, continuing to ignore Elias, which was her normal reaction when she saw him. Her shoulders burned from his sharp gaze.
The sheriff unlocked the steel doors and they banged with a chilling sound. Goose bumps popped up on her arms. There were two cots in the room and that was it. Chase lay on one of them. When he saw her, he jumped to his feet, his eyes bracketed with fear. Her heart squeezed at the sight. Where had she gone wrong?
When the sheriff walked away, she sat on the bunk and Chase sat beside her. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
Words rolled around in her head like loose marbles and she couldn’t pull them together to complete a sentence. She’d never been this scared in her whole life, not even when she’d been seventeen and pregnant. An angel had been watching over her and had delivered her into the hands of Mrs. Lavinia Wainwright, otherwise known as Miss Vennie—but she was Nana to her and Chase.
When her dad had discovered she was pregnant, he’d kicked her out of the house. Her mother had wrung her hands and cried, but never lifted a finger to help her. Instead, she’d shoved money into her hand and had told her to go to Mrs. Peabody’s, an elderly lady in town who rented rooms. But Maribel knew she couldn’t stay in Horseshoe, listening to the gossip and the rumors.
Mrs. Peabody had sent her to Dallas to stay with her sister, Miss Vennie. That was the luckiest day of Maribel’s life, except for the day Chase was born. Miss Vennie had a big house in Dallas and she had accepted Maribel with open arms. Maribel had learned about love and trust and family and she’d found a home like she’d never had before.
Miss Vennie had treated Chase as if he were her own son. While Maribel had worked, Miss Vennie had taken care of Chase and Maribel hadn’t needed to worry about him. For years they’d had a good life. Then Miss Vennie had died and Maribel’s whole world had come apart once again. They had to move out of the house because it was mortgaged to the hilt. She’d rented an apartment and everything had been going smoothly until she’d lost her job. She’d been scrambling, looking for work when Rosie had called and she knew then it was time to go home. Now she was wondering if that had been the right decision.
“Mom, aren’t you going to say anything? I know you’re disappointed in me...”
Words suddenly filled her throat. “Yes, I’m very disappointed in you. Where’s my kid? I don’t know this kid who steals beer. My kid sat by Nana’s bedside and read her Bible verses to comfort her in her last days. My kid served food during the holidays at the homeless shelter. That’s my kid.” She looked around the dismal cinder block cell. “I don’t know this kid behind bars.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I want to go home to Dallas. I don’t like it here.”
“Is that what this is all about? You think you can manipulate me into moving back to Dallas?”
Chase hung his head.
“We can’t go back. There’s nothing left for us there. I couldn’t find a job, which means I have to find work here, and you’re not making it easy for us. I’ll have to use some of the money I saved to get you out of here.”
Chase’s eyes grew round. “You mean the sheriff is thinking of keeping me in here?”
“Yes. Stealing is against the law. I thought my straight-A student son would know that.”
“Mom, I didn’t hurt anybody.”
She was aghast at his attitude. “Is that how you look at it? Well, you did hurt someone. You hurt Bob, the owner of Rowdy’s. That’s how he makes his living, selling beer, and when you stole from him, it cut into his profits.”
“I just want to go home to Dallas and my old school in August. I’m a good football player and no one is going to notice me here in this small town. I won’t get recruited and I won’t get to play in the NFL. That’s been my goal my whole life and now it’s all ruined. How could you bring us here?”
She
