studied the floor. “Gemma kept trying to tell someone what was going on, and every once in a while, somebody from social services or the school district would come up and take a look around but they never found anything. To an outsider, it looked like utopia—vegetable gardens, a flower farm, our own milk cows, everybody reading William Carlos Williams. Nobody listened to Gemma until she finally found a way to make them listen.” Callie paused, took a gulp of air. “She went to the Big Sur Family Services Agency and threatened to kill herself if they didn’t believe her.” Callie’s voice lowered to a shaky whisper. “She was pregnant by Brother Timothy. They took him away, and I never saw Gemma again. I don’t know what ever happened to her or the baby.”
Kate put her hand on the girl’s shoulder. The girl flinched and Kate removed it. “I’m sorry. I hope things got better for you after that.”
“They did for some of us,” she said. “For me, for a while. But in the last home I was placed in, well, that was bad so I had to leave.”
“Callie, where’s your mother?”
Callie dropped her gaze. She picked at her nails. “I haven’t seen her in over a year.”
“Do you think she might be worried about you?”
“She should have worried about me when we were all living with that pervert,” Callie snapped. Then she lowered her voice. “You going to call social services?”
“Not if you’ve been straight with me.”
“You can check out my story on the Internet,” Callie said. “Millennium Commune, look it up.”
“I don’t have Internet service here. If I need to go online, I have to drive to the library in Port Angeles.”
“Whatever. I’ve been straight with you.” She looked out the window as she spoke.
There were still secrets concealed within Callie, Kate was sure of it. She studied Callie’s profile. The girl was quite pretty, though that wasn’t immediately apparent thanks to the acne and some dark patches on her skin where she’d probably forgotten to wash. Her hair needed a trim, and the shapeless sweatpants and old Big Sur Folk Festival T-shirt didn’t flatter her heavyset figure. Yet when the sunlight from the windows outlined the tender curve of her cheek, Kate saw a different person sitting there, a girl who was still a child no matter what the calendar said.
The protective instinct rose inside Kate, stronger now, urging her toward a leap of faith. She knew she had to give this girl a chance.
“Would you like to stay in the guest suite?” she heard herself saying. Back in the early days of the lakeside cottage, the first Livingstons had traveled with a housekeeper and cook, who had occupied the small bedroom and washroom off the main floor. Later generations used it to accommodate visitors, giving them more privacy than the upstairs rooms.
Callie narrowed her eyes. “What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch. You need a place to stay, I have tons of room here, so—”
“I’d better not.” She stared at the braided rug on the floor.
“You’re going to run out of options,” Kate pointed out. “In the off-season, plenty of houses are vacant, but now that summer’s here, everything will change.”
“I’ve got camping gear.”
“I’ve got a six-bedroom house.”
“Why?” Callie asked. “There’s got to be a catch.”
“No catch, like I promised. You said you’ve been straight with me. You’ve had a rough time of it. Why not stay here where you’re safe?”
She snorted softly, a sound of bitter mirth.
“Is something funny?” asked Kate.
Callie shook her head. “I’ll stay tonight. After that, we’ll see.”
Don’t do me any favors, Kate thought. She reminded herself that if this girl’s story was even partially true, she’d lived a nightmare. She didn’t take Callie’s reluctance personally, though. Giving her a room here was the right thing to do. “I’ll call Mrs. Newman and let her know you’ll be staying with us.”
The girl looked amazed, her expression that of a starvation victim facing her first plate of food.
“It’ll be all right,” Kate said softly. “You’ll see.”
Callie sat very quiet and still for a few moments, and Kate suspected that gestures like this were rare in her life.
“You expecting someone?” Callie got up and went to the window.
Kate heard the crackle of tires over gravel, then the sound of a car door slamming. Bandit bugled his usual greeting.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“A really hot guy. He your boyfriend?”
For some reason, the suggestion brought a flush to Kate’s cheeks as she joined Callie at the window. “The guy who lives down the road. Come and meet him.”
Six
When Kate and Callie went out into the yard, Aaron was running circles around JD, talking a mile a minute. JD looked a bit discomfited by the boy’s enthusiasm. Possibly he was already regretting having stopped by.
Seeing Aaron’s efforts to get the man’s attention, Kate felt a familiar pang. Aaron wanted a father in the worst way. He always had. As a toddler, he sometimes tried to wander off in the mall or at a baseball game, and she’d catch him trying to follow random men around, imprinted like a duck.
The way he emulated the stranger suggested just a hint of hero worship. As far as Kate could tell, JD was Aaron’s ideal in faded work pants and Wolverine boots. He had a pickup truck and a chain saw. What more could a boy want?
She caught herself staring at his shoulders. They were broad without being bulky, and he moved with a certain athletic ease, suggesting a natural fitness rather than some kind of intensive training. There was something about JD. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. His careless choice of clothes suggested a lack of vanity, yet he bore himself with a curious dignity.
“Hello,” she called, motioning for Callie to join her. “How is the victim?”
JD turned to her, and her heart flipped over. It was crazy, he wasn’t her type at all, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Okay, she thought, studying his hair, so it wasn’t a mullet. Just long hair, and like Brad Pitt’s in his best movies.
“The volunteers at the wildlife rehab place think he’ll make a recovery.” He indicated his truck. “I washed out your cooler.”
“Thanks. JD, this is Callie Evans. She’s going to be staying with us.”
Aaron’s eyebrows lifted almost comically, but he made no comment.
“Nice to meet you,” he said.
Callie
