must have been very hard for you and for your mother.”
“It was,” Clinton said. “Our mom was in the army too, but she came home right away. She cried a lot. We were living with our Aunt Suzi then.”
“Are you going to your Aunt Suzi’s house for Thanksgiving?” she asked, trying to probe for answers as subtly as possible without it sounding like a blatant interrogation.
Clinton gave her an exasperated look. “That’s all the way by Disneyland! That’s too far. And she’s not there anyway.”
“That’s in California,” Davy informed her. “It’s warm there all the time—not like here, where our house is cold all the time.”
Clinton poked his brother, giving him a shushing sort of look that Julia pretended not to see.
“California does have beautiful weather. That’s true. Why did you move away?”
“Our mom got a new job here, but then she got sick and had to quit,” Davy said.
It was obvious Clinton thought his brother had said too much. He set down his napkin and slid away from the table. “We should probably go now. Our mom will be wondering where we are.”
“Really?” Davy said.
“Yes,” Clint said with a meaningful look. “Thank you for the sandwich, Miss Winston. It was very good.”
“You’re welcome.”
Julia was at a loss as to what to do next. Did she tell the boys she suspected something wasn’t quite right with them? That she wanted to have a talk with their mother to find out a little more about their situation, but she had no idea where they even lived?
The boys hadn’t left a scrap, Julia realized. They had all but licked the plates clean, poor things.
She was suddenly ashamed of herself. She had so very much—good friends, a job she loved, a beautiful home that kept her warm in the winter.
At this time of Thanksgiving, she realized again how very blessed she was. In the four months since her mother died, how much time had she wasted feeling sorry for herself?
What about the years and years before that?
The three of them walked out of the library offices together and out into the stacks. Very few patrons remained.
“I guess I’ll see you later, then.”
“We’ll probably be here tomorrow since we don’t have school,” Davy said.
Why? She loved libraries as much as the next person. More, probably. Still, what kid with free time would choose to spend every moment of it in one?
“You know the library closes early tomorrow, right?”
Clint and Davy looked shocked and rather glum to learn this.
“What time does it open?” Clinton asked, brow furrowed.
“We’ll be open from ten to three.”
“That’s not too bad, I guess. Come on, Davy. Let’s go.”
Before they walked outside, Clint stopped to zip up his younger brother’s coat and tug down his beanie. It was those small, loving gestures that compelled her to action.
The wind was howling fiercely, and snowflakes swirled around the pair. She couldn’t possibly let them walk home in those conditions.
She hurried over to the clerk behind the circulation desk. “Mack, do you think you can close up by yourself? I need to run a little errand.”
“Sure thing.” Mack Porter gave her a wide smile. “It’s only twenty minutes, and I don’t think too many more people will be showing up tonight. It’s getting ugly out there. Be safe.”
All the more reason she wanted to follow those boys. “Thanks. Have a great night.”
“Same to you, my dear.”
It took her three minutes to grab her coat and purse from her office, shut down her computer, lock her office door and hurry to her Lexus. Had she missed them? She scanned the direction she had seen them take the night before, fretting until she found them about a block away, walking along the lakefront road.
A cold wind blew off the water, harsh and mean, biting through her clothing with merciless teeth and hurling tiny ice pellets into her skin. She started up her SUV, spent another minute or two brushing off the new snow, then drove out of the parking lot and along the mostly empty road toward them.
She passed them and pulled off to the side of the road just ahead of them. After opening her door, she turned to face them. She had to raise her voice several decibels to be heard over the howling wind. “Let me give you a ride.”
“We can walk,” Clint said, that steely stubbornness she had noticed before coming through loud and clear.
“Y-y-y-es. We’re f-f-fine,” Davy said. His thin coat wasn’t nearly enough protection to fight off that wind.
“Please. Let me give you a ride. Where do you live?”
They had reached her vehicle now, trudging through ankle-deep snow. “Can we, Clint?” Davy asked. “My feet are freezing, and we hardly made it a block.”
The older boy looked undecided, glancing first at her vehicle, then at her, then at the road ahead of them.
His mouth pursed as he tried to figure out what to do. She gave him another push in the direction she hoped he would take.
“Come on. Get in.”
“We’re not supposed to take rides from strangers,” he finally said, though she could hear the clear reluctance in his voice. “Come on, Davy. The faster we go, the faster we’ll be home.”
They took a few more steps past her vehicle. Davy looked miserable, his nose red and his chin tucked into his chest as he fought to make his way through the cold.
“I’m not a stranger. I’m the librarian. You see me every day when you come to my library,” she pointed out.
“She’s right,” Davy said.
“It’s not safe for you boys to be out here. The roads are icy, and drivers can’t see you very well through the blowing snow, especially now that it’s dark. Please get in.”
He still looked reluctant, so she tried one more card, playing a hunch. “Would you feel better if I call my friend, Chief Emmett, to give you a ride home in his police car?”
In the glow from her open door, she saw a flash of fear in his eyes. Julia felt bad for putting it there, but not if it meant the older boy would let her give them a ride home.
“We can take a ride, I guess,” he finally said.
She made sure they were buckled safely in the backseat of her vehicle before she pulled slowly onto the road.
