Inherited: Instant Family. Judy Christenberry
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“But we haven’t done anything!”
“Then you won’t mind talking to the sheriff, will you?”
“Yes, I do mind. I don’t want to leave the kids.”
“Of course not. We’ll take them with us…in my truck.”
“No! I can’t leave my car here!”
“If the sheriff says it’s okay, I’ll bring you back in the morning.”
He walked over to the old car and looked through the window to see two kids sleeping in the two seats. “Where were you going to sleep?” he asked the woman.
“That’s none of your business!”
He opened the car door, waking the children. “Hi, kids. Your mom has agreed to come to our ranch for the night. Is that okay with you?”
A small girl, maybe eight or nine, and a little boy who looked to be about five, the same age as his nephew Robbie, stared at him.
The children looked out for their mother, and he realized he’d never introduced himself. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you who I am. My name’s Brad. We’ll take my truck to the ranch. Okay?”
“Is that your truck?” the little boy asked, getting on his knees and looking out the window.
“Yeah. Do you like trucks?”
He nodded. “I can ride in yours?”
“Sure. Ask your mom.”
“But she’s not here.”
Brad turned to look at the young woman. “She’s not your mother?”
“No,” the little boy said sadly.
Just what the hell was happening here? Brad wondered. Not wanting to upset the boy, he said calmly, “Well, buddy, why don’t you come ride with me? She’ll follow us.”
“Will you come, Sarah?”
“Yes, Davy, I’ll follow you. I’m not leaving you behind.”
The little girl got out of the car and moved to Sarah’s side. “Sarah, I don’t think you should let Davy go with him. We don’t know him.”
She put her arm around the girl and smiled. “It’s all right, Anna. We’re going to follow right behind.”
Then the woman moved closer to Brad and whispered, “Don’t even think of trying to take Davy from me.”
“I won’t, as long as you follow me.”
She moved away from him and hugged the boy. Then she and the girl got in the old car and started the engine.
Brad helped the little boy into his truck and fastened the seat belt for him. “Davy, I’m glad you’re going to ride with me. I don’t like riding alone.”
“Me, neither.”
“Okay, we’ll be home in twenty minutes.”
But after five minutes, he noticed the woman—Sarah—wasn’t behind him. He made a U-turn and found her car dead on the side of the road. “Davy, I need to see if I can help her. Sit here.”
When he got to the car, Sarah had tears running down her cheeks.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Quickly she wiped her tears away. “I’m fine.”
“Do you know what’s wrong with your car?”
“No.”
“Okay, why don’t you and Anna come get in my truck with Davy. We’ll see what we can do about your car tomorrow.”
“We—we need our suitcases.”
“Where are they?”
“In the trunk. I’ll get them.”
Despite her independence, Brad retrieved the two suitcases from the trunk and put them in his truck.
“Here, Anna, let me help you up,” Brad said to the little girl. Then he turned to the young woman, but Sarah had already climbed up into the backseat.
“Put your seat belts on,” he directed as he got behind the wheel. “We’ll be at the ranch in a few minutes.” He pulled out onto the highway.
None of his three passengers responded. The children looked like they’d gone to sleep, but he could see Sarah watching his reflection in the rearview. When his eyes met hers on the mirror, she diverted her gaze.
She looked to be in her early twenties, with light brown hair that framed her face and fell to her shoulders. Her eyes were big, though in the dark he couldn’t detect a color. Under ordinary circumstances, Brad suspected it would be a beautiful face, but right now worry and tension had painted dark circles under her eyes and tightened her mouth.
He wanted to ask Sarah who the children were to her, and why they were in her care, but he gave her her way and was silent for the rest of the ride.
When he got to the house, he turned to her with an arm across the seat and said, “My sister-in-law is seven months pregnant with twins. She has trouble getting back to sleep if she wakes up, so I’d appreciate it if you’re quiet.”
Sarah got out of the truck and helped Anna down. Then she opened Davy’s door and helped the little boy.
“What are we doing here?” the woman asked. “I thought you were taking me to talk to the sheriff.”
He’d taken her to the Logan ranch, his home. The sheriff, who happened to be his mother’s second husband, had agreed to meet him there.
“This is my family’s ranch. The sheriff’s meeting us here. That’s his car.”
At the mention of the sheriff, her face seemed to blanch. “Are you all right?”
Her eyes, when she looked at him, were dark brown. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
For some reason he felt compelled to reassure her. Maybe it was the way she obviously cared for the children, or because he’d discovered a soft spot for damsels in distress. Either way, he motioned with his hand for her to follow him.
He opened the door to the kitchen and allowed Sarah and the children to enter. The sheriff was sitting at the big oak table. “Mike, this is Sarah, Anna and Davy.”
Mike stood. In his early fifties and with gray hair, he still cut a formidable figure. “Hello. I’m Mike Dunleavy, the County Sheriff. Have a seat. Would you like some coffee?” He nodded toward the counter, where he’d obviously put on a fresh pot as soon as Brad had called.
“No,