A Family for Tyler. Angel Smits

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A Family for Tyler - Angel Smits A Chair at the Hawkins Table

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in the system she’d always believed in. She slowed again, this time her eyes on the road ahead instead of the potholes in her past.

      A movement at the edge of the road ahead startled her. She hadn’t passed anyone in nearly a quarter of an hour. Surely no one was out walking in this heat. It must be the shimmering illusion on the horizon.

      Whatever or whoever it was ahead kept moving. She braked to slow down even more. It was someone walking. A child. She pushed the brake again.

      Tyler.

      Her heart sank. What had happened? Why had his uncle let him come out here alone? She envisioned the tall, handsome man who’d been in her office yesterday. He’d been very clear that he wasn’t the type to abandon anyone, but the evidence was right before her. Then another thought came to mind. What if something had happened to Wyatt?

      She slammed on the brakes this time, pulling off the two-lane road and onto the soft dirt at the shoulder. Dust settled around the tires as she opened the door. Hot air slammed into her, and she wanted more than anything to crawl back into the air-conditioned interior.

      But the sight of the little boy trudging along beside the road stopped her. “Tyler?” she called, not wanting to scare him.

      He stilled then looked up at her. His eyes widened and rather than stopping, he broke into a run. The backpack he’d been carrying tumbled to the ground and he dragged it through the dust. The scrape of the cheap plastic on the rough rocks was loud.

      “Tyler, wait!” She jogged after him. She was wearing a suit with a knee-length skirt and matching pumps. Definitely not running clothes.

      But Tyler’s eight-year-old legs were short and the backpack was obviously heavy. She was out of breath and soaked with sweat when she finally caught up to him. He yelped and tried to kick her as she grabbed him.

      “No,” he squealed.

      “Tyler. Stop that.” Guilt almost made her let him go. Common sense told her he’d perish out here in the heat. She trudged back to the car, struggling to hold on to him. She’d have dozens of bruises, but at least he’d be alive.

      The backpack scraped loudly beside them. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she tried to reassure him.

      “I know that,” he yelled back, and she realized he was angry, not scared. The little rat. Her guilt faded a little.

      Finally getting him to the car, she pulled open the passenger door and felt the last of the cooled air wash over them. She grabbed her water bottle and after plopping him on the seat, she handed it to him. “Here.”

      He let go of the backpack, and she grabbed it and tossed it into the backseat. She pulled on the seat belt and awkwardly buckled him in. If she ran around the car, she might get in before he was loose. Maybe.

      With a wary eye, she closed the door and hustled around the front of the car. He had his belt unbuckled but hadn’t gotten the door unlocked or open before she was inside. She wrestled him for the belt and finally got it back in place.

      “Sit,” she commanded, and it was enough to take the steam out of the boy. She thought for an instant that he was going to cry. But he didn’t. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and stuck his bottom lip out in a huge pout.

      “Thank you.” She leaned back against the seat. “What are you doing out here?”

      At first she wasn’t sure he’d answer. “Goin’ back to town.”

      Emily’s heart sank. What had happened? All her fears leaped out of the hot desert. She’d been right to come out here.

      The click of the seat belt brought her out of her thoughts. “Hold it.” She clicked the buckle back in place again. “Start talking.” She leaned back in the seat and cranked the ignition. After a second, cool air blasted from the vents. She aimed two of them at the boy. Tyler’s face was flushed but he nearly emptied the water bottle, so she thought he’d be okay.

      “You can’t take me back.”

      “Why not? Tell me why. I promise I’ll listen. Is your uncle so bad?”

      “N-no. He’s okay. Even lets me ride horses.” The sound of longing was thick in his voice. “And pet a baby cow.”

      “You like baby cows...er...calves?” He didn’t say anything, but the way his eyes lit up told her he did. “Then—did he hurt you?”

      “No!” He glared at her. “He’s not bad.”

      “Then what’s wrong?” Only the blow of the air conditioner broke the heavy silence.

      “Mama won’t be able to find me out here,” he finally whispered.

      Emily’s chest tightened. She wanted to pull him close and ease the uncertainty cloaking those words, but she knew he’d never allow that. His mother wasn’t coming back for him, but Emily didn’t have any desire to tell him that right now.

      Instead, she put the car into gear and pulled back onto the road, heading to the ranch. She heard him sniff and forced herself to ignore it. She was a judge. An officer of the court, sworn to protect children, not put them at further risk. Even if her heart hurt as she made the decision.

      Emily’s eyes darted back and forth from the road to the boy. Tyler slouched in the seat beside her, his legs in constant motion.

      “Sit still, Tyler.”

      “Why?” Tyler increased the rhythm of his legs.

      “I just need to concentrate, okay?” Emily muttered.

      They didn’t have far to go, but it seemed to take forever. Finally, she saw the turn-in to Wyatt’s land. The metal reflectors at each side of the drive winked at her as she slowed and steered in between them.

      She’d read the initial caseworker’s notes, but the neatly kept house with its yard and large trees was a bit of a surprise. It was homier than any place she herself had ever lived. The wraparound porch stole her heart.

      She didn’t look over at Tyler, but saw out of the corner of her eye that his eyes were large and damp.

      “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” She knew her promise was empty but she had to say something.

      She was surprised at what she saw once she faced the big ranch house. It had to be a hundred years old, judging by the style, but it was immaculate. Old-fashioned metal fencing stretched between posts to surround the big white house with a lush green lawn. She pulled up to the fence, just a few yards from the gate.

      A gate that stood wide-open and for some reason, Emily knew that Tyler had left it that way. She hoped Wyatt didn’t have a dog or other pet that could now be loose in the wilderness. She laughed. Wilderness. Ranch land was not wilderness, not really.

      A woman came out of the door, the wooden screen slapping loud against the frame. “Tyler?” The woman’s blond hair fell in long ringlets. Was this a friend—a girlfriend of Wyatt’s? Emily frowned. Had he been distracted by the woman, thereby allowing the boy to run away?

      Tyler reached for the door handle and turned to climb out of the car. Before

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