can you be brave for me?”
Dusty nodded, taking another sip of milk, his eyes on Rico.
He took a deep breath. “Your grandmother...died. That’s why you couldn’t wake her. She went to heaven to be with Jesus. Do you understand?”
“No!” Dusty shouted and threw the milk on the floor. “No!” Pitiful sounds erupted from his throat and then he laid his head on Rico’s chest and sobbed until Rico thought his heart would break. At that moment he realized he had never had the chance to cry for his own mother when she had died. But he’d cried for his great-grandmother like Dusty was crying now. That pain he would never forget.
Anamarie moved closer and stroked the boy’s hair. “It’s okay, sweetie. Cry all you want. Rico and I are here for you.”
“Rico,” Wyatt called from his office. “Can we talk a minute?”
“Sure.” With his thumb, he wiped a tear from Dusty’s cheek. “Stay with Anamarie. I’ll be right back.” He placed the boy in Anamarie’s lap and she cuddled him close. Dusty seemed content.
“I just got off the phone with the CPS worker for this area. At the moment she doesn’t have a foster home for the boy, but she said she would have one shortly just as soon as she could talk someone into it. All the foster homes are full.”
“And...” He was hoping the next part would be what he wanted to hear.
“I told her there was someone here who would take the boy and give him a temporary home. She asked a lot of questions about you and I told her all she wanted to know.”
“And...”
“She agreed to let you keep him temporarily, but she will be here at ten o’clock in the morning to visit with you and the boy at your home.”
“No problem.” The boulder on his chest eased. “Thank you, Wyatt.”
“You might want to call Miss Kate. The caseworker will be calling her for a character reference.”
“I don’t need to call Miss Kate. I trust her to tell the truth and I have nothing to hide.”
Wyatt seemed unsure as he shuffled papers on his desk. “I didn’t mention anything about your prison record. I’ll catch flak for that, but I’m willing to do it so the boy won’t have to go into a foster home until they find a relative. And I think you’re right. He needs to be with someone who cares about him.” The sheriff looked at him. “And I believe you do.”
“Yes, and I’ll do anything to keep a kid out of foster care.”
The sheriff eased back in his chair. “Sometimes the only place a kid has to go is foster homes, and some are really good. I sense you’ve had a bad experience with them. Would you like to talk about it?”
“No, but thanks for the offer.” Rico glanced toward the cell. “Can I take him home now?”
“Sure. Let’s see how Dustin feels about it.”
Before they could reach the cell, Stuart, the chief deputy, came through the front door. He had a duffel bag in his hand.
Stuart was born and raised in Horseshoe and was a dedicated police officer. “I brought some of the boy’s things,” he said.
“Good,” the sheriff replied. “Just leave it at my desk.” Then he whispered to Rico, “Don’t get too attached. They will find a home for him.”
Rico tried to remember that as Dusty practically leapt into his arms. “Can we go to my house now?”
Rico sat with Dusty on his lap and was glad Anamarie was there to give him support. “You can’t stay there by yourself, buddy.”
The boy went limp against him. “Oh.”
“Would you like to come home with me?”
Dusty raised up, his eyes bright. “My mommy’s gonna come get me.”
Rico was thrown for a moment. “What?”
“My grandma said she was sick and when she got better she would come and get me. She’s probably better now.”
Rico glanced at Wyatt, but he didn’t offer any advice. “Buddy, we’ll check on your mommy, but in the meantime you have to stay somewhere.”
The boy’s dark eyes grew thoughtful. “’Kay. I stay with you. Where do you live?”
“On a ranch.”
“Can Mickey come, too?”
“You bet.”
The little boy’s eyes brightened. “You got a horse?”
“Sure do.”
“Can I ride it?”
“You bet.”
“Can Ann-a-ma... I can’t say her name.”
Anamarie touched his cheek. “You can call me Ana.”
“Can Ana come, too?”
Rico looked into Anamarie’s blue eyes. “You bet.” He got to his feet, feeling a little unsure of what was ahead of him, but he could do no less.
“That’s so nice of you to take him.”
Rico placed Dustin on his feet. “Go tell the sheriff thank you for letting you stay with me. Then we’ll go.”
“’Kay.”
Rico needed a minute to talk to Anamarie. She picked up the sippy cup, which hadn’t broken or leaked onto the floor. “I might need your help. Are you available?”
She smiled one of her custom smiles. “You bet.”
They walked back to the bakery with Dusty between them. Mickey trailed behind. Rico carried the duffel bag and quilt over his shoulder, and thought this was a slice of heaven being together with Anamarie and Dusty. It was almost like a family. It was almost real. The almost kept him from thinking any further. Happy ever after wasn’t in his future. It never had been.
ANAMARIE WAVED GOODBYE and hurried into the bakery. People in line were waiting for kolaches. “Good morning,” she said to everyone.
Margie was at the counter and mouthed, “Sorry.” Anamarie thought it was about being late, but then she nodded toward the kitchen and she knew it was about something entirely different. Her mother was there.
All the wonderful feelings inside her vanished as she walked into the kitchen. Her mother’s gray hair stuck out in all directions as if she hadn’t taken time to comb it, and fury tightened every line on her sixty-seven-year-old face.
“Where have you been?” Her mother aimed the question at her like
