this was a kid with death issues. A kid who would try to save his dad all over again every time he tried to save a bird. And lose his dad all over again every time he failed.
Logan wasn’t up to dealing with that. Just because, for a minute here, Sean reminded him of Nora, of the forest-colored sadness in her eyes…
That was no reason to—
He tried to apply the brakes, but nothing seemed to have the power to stop the skid.
“That’s the rotten thing about mistakes,” he said, testing to see whether Sean’s belligerence had really subsided. “Once you make ’em, you own ’em. You can’t take them back, no matter how much you want to.”
Sean nodded grimly, but no resentment sparked. “Yeah.” He sighed. “It sucks.”
Logan paused one more time, giving himself another second to come to his senses.
But it didn’t happen.
“I tell you what,” he heard himself saying. “Maybe there is something you could do. Why don’t we see if your mom will let you work off your punishment here with me?”
CHAPTER FOUR
THE SKY WAS ALREADY A HOT neon blue by eight o’clock when Sean reported for his first shift at the sanctuary on Saturday. More like summer than spring, really, Nora thought as she parked the car by the double row of hackberry trees, where the dappled trees would keep it cool.
She didn’t know how long she’d be staying. She’d expected to drop Sean off and return for him later, but as they neared the small wooden cabin that housed the sanctuary’s reception area, Sean’s shoulders grew rigid and his lower jaw thrust out.
Nora knew those signs. He was scared, but tightening every muscle to avoid showing it.
“You’re coming in, too, right, Mom?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” His shoulders loosened, and he gave her a shrug that said the whole thing bored him. “Mr. Cathcart’s probably forgotten I’m coming, anyhow.”
Nora bit back a frustrated response. She wished she knew how to prevent Sean from masking his fear with belligerence, but Harrison had worked hard to be sure his son and heir knew better than to show weakness. Probably the lesson of his own father, Harrison believed that anger was the manly man’s only respectable emotion.
It would take more than a few months with a child psychiatrist to make Sean disloyal to his father’s teachings now.
But the night Logan had brought Sean home, his bike in the flatbed of a Two Wings truck, had given her a glimmer of hope.
They’d rung the bell politely, and then Logan had stood with his hand on the boy’s shoulder, as if to lend moral support, while Sean had explained about sneaking out to retrieve the body of the bird.
Nora had hardly recognized her son that night. No stubborn silence, no slippery fibs, no tantrums. Just the truth, offered somberly, even apologetically, with a glimpse of the grown man he would someday be.
She’d kept her own tone equally forthright, though she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t upset, or that there wouldn’t be a punishment.
Then, together, the three of them had come up with this plan.
It called for Sean to work at Two Wings three hours every Saturday morning, and two hours every Monday, Wednesday and Friday until the damage was paid off.
His salary would be five dollars an hour. Logan had estimated the damage at five hundred dollars, though Nora suspected him of minimizing the mess. Still, Sean would clearly be working into the summer. That night, he’d seemed reconciled to the plan.
But as the first day grew closer, his anxiety had increased, and out came the attitude. By this morning, he’d been sullen, difficult to rouse. He “lost” the green Two Wings T-shirt Logan had provided, groused about the jeans and sneakers his volunteer training sheet called for, and presented himself at the breakfast table with a scowl and no appetite.
She had a feeling Logan was going to regret his decision to bring Sean on board.
“See?” Sean shoved his car door shut, then looked around the empty parking lot. “Told you he forgot. There’s no one here.”
“Maybe we’re early.”
But she saw his point. Two Wings seemed deserted. The only sounds were the sawing of unseen crickets, the croaking of invisible frogs and the occasional melodic whistle of birds that flitted between the trees.
The ticket window, still unmarked awaiting the formal opening of the sanctuary to the public, was firmly shut, reflecting back only the blue sky and the ancient trees.
“He’s probably in the clinic,” she said, trying to remember how to get to the main part of the sanctuary. In the eighteen months since Logan Cathcart had moved in, she’d only been here once, the day she came to apologize for Sean’s vandalism.
She knew the general layout of the land, because she used to visit often when it was owned by Logan’s great-aunt, Doreen Cathcart. Doreen had been eccentric, but a kind woman. She’d never liked Harrison, who thought her land was wasted and wanted to buy it. But she’d always welcomed Nora and the boys.
The house was over on the western edge of the property. On the other side, Doreen had built an odd little amphitheater. She’d hoped to turn the whole estate into a performance arts center, but the dream died with the amphitheater when the money ran out.
“He might be back where those big enclosures are,” she said, trying to orient herself now. “I went down that little boardwalk, off to the left.”
He seemed unsure whether he should admit that he knew where that was.
She waited.
“Okay, fine. It’s back here.” Sean moved to the left, where the wooden boardwalk snaked through the trees.
He obviously knew his way well, and she wondered how often he might have been here. He’d been caught twice now, but was that all?
A chill crept through her as she watched him walk confidently through the heavily wooded maze, never hesitating when the boardwalk forked off in different directions.
How many lies had he been telling her? Would she have to take all freedom away from him? Was there to be no more fun, no more riding his bike with his friend Paddy James, or helping the ranch hands with the horses? Would she have to peek into his room every few minutes when he played video games, or did his homework, or even while he slept?
Would she ever be able to trust him again?
As they walked, birdcalls grew louder, and after a couple of hundred yards, the trees thinned and the path ended in a large open area filled with huge, screened-in wood pens.
And Nora saw that Two Wings was far from empty.
It bustled with life.
The enclosures were filled
