sagged with the rush of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”
“No, thank Officer Cherney,” the sergeant said drily. “Can we assume you’ll be picking up young Yancey and taking responsibility for him?”
“You may,” she told him. “And please do thank Officer Cherney.” She hesitated only briefly. “And thank you. He’s...a sad boy. I was worried about him.”
“I do understand. It’s our preference to help, you know.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
They left it at that. She put on her signal and waited while a semi lumbered onto the highway, wondering if Sergeant Shroutt would be any more cooperative the next time she came to him. In one way, it was a pity that Captain Sawyer wasn’t in charge of the patrol officers, as he might conceivably have turned out to be a useful ally. She’d be more convinced of that, though, if he had displayed even a tiny hint of real emotion. Plus, she’d been hit by sexual attraction, which he’d shown no sign of reciprocating. No, it was just as well that she wouldn’t have to deal with him often.
Making up her mind, she made a call rather than starting back toward Angel Butte.
“Carol? Anna Grant. Listen, I know you wanted a longer break before you took another kid, but is there any chance you’d house a boy for a day or two until I can find another place for him?”
Carol Vogt was, hands down, Anna’s favorite among the foster parents associated with AHYS. A widow whose own two boys were in their thirties, she worked magic on troubled teenagers.
“A day or two.” Carol snorted. “What you mean is, ‘Will you take him just long enough so you decide you didn’t really want that break anyway?’”
Anna grinned. “Guilty as charged. But I promise, I’ll move him if you ask me to. Yancey is only thirteen, and he’s being tormented by the older boys in the home I had him living in. Which was his second since he came into the system. He ran away today and the police just picked him up. I’ve got receiving homes, but...”
She didn’t have to finish. This was a kid who needed stability, not another way station.
A sigh gusted into her ear. “Fine,” Carol said. “But you owe me one.”
“I already owe you a few thousand,” Anna admitted. “Bless you. We’ll be an hour or two.”
“I’ll have his bedroom ready.”
Anna was smiling when she finally made the turn out onto the highway.
* * *
CALEB HOVERED AT the head of the stairs where he knew he couldn’t be seen. Voices drifted up from the kitchen.
“I’m not sure where he is.” That was Paula Hale, who with her husband ran this place. “Caleb’s been spending a lot of time with Diego. They’re probably over in the cabin Diego shares with another boy.”
“I’ll take that coffee, then. Thanks.” This time, Reid’s voice came to Caleb clearly. He must be facing the stairs. “Sugar?”
“You always did have a sweet tooth. And you can’t tell me you’ve forgotten where I keep the sugar bowl.”
Caleb’s brother gave a low chuckle. “I was being polite.”
“You weren’t polite when you lived here. Why start now?”
This time they both laughed.
Caleb felt weird, an unseen third presence. He knew Roger, Paula’s husband, was outside working on Cabin Five. This place was an old resort that must have been shut down, like, a century ago. Most of the boys were paired up in the small cabins. The Hales’ room was on the main floor in the lodge, and Caleb and another guy were in bedrooms upstairs. If there were any girls in residence, Caleb had been told, they always had the rooms upstairs in the lodge so they were near the Hales. Otherwise, those bedrooms were used for new boys, until they had “settled in.” That was how Paula put it. Caleb wasn’t sure how he would ever prove he had, or even if he wanted to. He didn’t like it here—but nothing on earth would make him go back to his father’s.
“You know he doesn’t have to be here.” Paula’s voice came especially clearly.
What did that mean?
Stiffening, Caleb strained to hear Reid’s answer. It was brief, an indistinguishable rumble.
What you need isn’t anything I have in me. Remembering the expressionless way his brother had said that, Caleb sneered. Was that what Reid was telling Paula?
He couldn’t catch the beginning of what Paula said in response, but the tail end made his heart thud. “...you could prove abuse if you wanted to.”
“You refusing to keep him here?” Reid asked more clearly.
“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“He needs to know you want him.”
Caleb quit breathing through the long silence that followed. And then his brother’s voice was so soft, he came close to missing it.
“I do.” Pause. “And I don’t.”
A skim of ice hardened in Caleb’s chest. The I do part was a joke. The only honest part of that was I don’t.
Paula said something, and then Reid did, but their voices were fading. They must have left the kitchen for what Paula called the great room.
He needs to know you want him.
I don’t.
His brother had found him, rescued him, but then palmed him off on someone else because he couldn’t be bothered.
Caleb eased down the stairs, then out the kitchen door without even pausing to grab a parka.
* * *
“YOU DON’T?” PAULA SAID. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Reid made an impatient gesture. “Come on. You know what I mean. I’m not father material. I told Caleb I’m damaged, and it’s true.”
Paula didn’t take her gaze from his as she sat on one of the benches at the long tables where meals were served in the main room of the lodge.
Despite having stayed in touch and contributed financially, he hadn’t actually seen either of the Hales in something like ten years until the day he’d brought Caleb here. He had been shocked to see Paula’s long braid was turning gray. She’d always looked like an aging hippie to him, but that had been from the perspective of a boy. Now she really was aging. Roger’s dark hair and beard were shot with gray, too. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He’d imagined them, and this refuge they guarded, as eternally the same. Reid hated to think about the time when they couldn’t take in kids anymore.
“Damage heals,” Paula said calmly.
Straddling
