like, a war hero, shut up!” one of the other boys said, and that made Reese flush even more.
“Yeah!”
“What’s wrong with you—aren’t you an American?”
More boys chimed in and a couple of them advanced on David. This was why Reese needed an assistant; Wolf was straining toward David now, too, and it took most of Reese’s strength to hold him back.
Tammy stood, back pressed against the side of the barn, arms crossed protectively over herself. No help there.
“Okay, everyone.” Gabby’s brisk, matter-of-fact tone stopped the boys whose arms were raised to attack David. “Pretty sure Reese is going to give you some hard homework if you get into a fight. Break it up.”
She was five-two and couldn’t have weighed much more than one hundred pounds, but she had calm authority in her voice, and she walked right in between David and the other boys.
Even Wolf stopped pushing at Reese and tilted his head to one side, watching her.
“Anybody willing to give me a tour of the facilities?” she asked. “I’d like to see the dogs.”
There was a moment’s silence. Gabby maintained eye contact with first one boy, then another, until she’d worked her way around the hostile circle without saying another word.
All of a sudden, several of the boys volunteered to show her around, and the rest of them trooped along, leaving Reese free to settle Wolf on one side of the barn and David on the other. He found out what the dispute had been about and gave them both chores.
Then he watched morosely as Gabby talked and laughed with the boys, seeming completely comfortable as she knelt to look at each dog, asked questions and really listened to the answers.
Tammy pulled herself together and set out breakfast rolls, fruit and juice at the long table at one end of the barn, and that drew all of the boys to focus. She turned on the inspirational podcast they always listened to as they ate, and Reese gestured Gabby back into his office.
It didn’t seem right to be angry about what she’d done, now that his cousin was gone. It was just that seeing her had brought back all the memories of what he’d hoped for, back when he’d been young and naive, thinking the world was basically a good place and that things would get better once he was grown up and free from his aunt and uncle’s house.
“Nice kids,” she said, her hand on the back of the chair in front of his desk. “But I assume you don’t want me to work for you.”
“You were good with the boys,” he said.
“I like kids.” She shrugged. “Plus, I get what it’s like to be the one who gets in trouble.”
“I’m sure you do.” When Gabby had arrived in Bethlehem Springs in the fifth grade, the word was that she’d gotten sent to the principal’s office most days.
She’d settled down by the time he’d arrived in middle school. He’d acted out some, too—you could hardly help it when you’d lost your parents suddenly and moved into a new school and a family who didn’t much want you.
That was why he’d latched on to the job with this grant-funded program as soon as he’d been cleared to work. He felt like he understood boys who were struggling. The fact that the grant funding was running out was currently his biggest worry. “Listen,” he said, “it’s probably not a good idea long term, but I need help pulling this Christmas Camp together. Starting next week, all the boys will be here full days, and like you just saw, I can’t handle them alone. If you’re willing, I’d like to offer you a temporary contract, through Christmas.”
“Really?” She stared at him. “You can work with me?”
It might kill him, but for the sake of the boys, he could do it. “Think about it,” he said. “I know you have to watch out for your grandmother. If you need to run over here and there, it’s fine.”
She bit her lip, opened her mouth and then closed it again.
“If you could decide in the next day or two, that would be great.”
She shook her head rapidly. “I don’t need a day or two. I already know I want the job.”
“Then I’ll draw up a contract.”
“Reese...”
He looked up from his desk. “Yeah?”
“You’re sure about this?”
“I’m sure. You can start on Monday.”
“Okay, then.” She reached across the desk, offering a handshake.
He’d already encountered that awkward move before, so he knew how to deflect it by extending his left hand. He gripped hers, and the sensation of touching her travelled straight to his heart.
She must have felt it, too, because she pulled her hand away, thanked him and hurried out of his office.
Leaving him to remember that it had always been like that with them: electric, dangerous as an exposed wire.
Now it felt more dangerous than ever.
Gabby had always loved the fact that, despite being a small town, Bethlehem Springs had a train station. As a kid, she’d come here with her grandfather to watch the trains. As a restless adolescent, hanging around the station had given her a sense of being able to leave at a moment’s notice, to get to the bright lights of Chicago or New York or, more realistically, Cleveland or Columbus. She’d gone to and from college on the train. And when everything had blown up in Bethlehem Springs that horrible summer after her sophomore year, she’d packed her things and taken the train to start a new life.
Today, though, she wasn’t leaving; she was staying, getting more tied down and domesticated. It had been eighteen months since she’d seen her half brother at her mother’s funeral, and they hadn’t exactly gotten along. He’d been understandably grief stricken about losing their mother and upset at the prospect of going to live with his father, and he’d begged Gabby to let him come live with her.
But at twenty-one and pregnant with a baby she’d in no way planned for, she hadn’t felt qualified to become the guardian of a brother she barely knew. Besides, surely Jacob’s father would do a better job taking care of him.
The father, unfortunately, hadn’t supervised Jacob well. Her brother had gotten into trouble for some minor vandalism, and rather than help him work through it, his father had shipped the poor kid off to military school. Jacob had just completed his first term, and somehow, he was coming to spend the Christmas break with Nana rather than going back to California to stay with his father. He was to arrive on the 6:00 a.m. train.
The platform was spooky-dark, with mist rising from the ground and clouds ominous overhead. Huddled in her heavy parka on the outdoor platform, she wished she’d thought to bring mittens and a hat.
Maybe she should’ve borrowed a dog
