Читать книгу The Marine Finds His Family - Angel Smits - Страница 11
ОглавлениеWYATT WAS IN the barn, exactly where DJ expected to find him. With the weekend’s arrival, the big farmhouse was overrun with women, and DJ was as uncomfortable with it as the rest of the now-scarce men. Big family gatherings had always been the norm. Heck, with six kids, dinner was a big family gathering.
But today DJ wasn’t in the mood, and neither, apparently, was Wyatt.
The jangle of metal and leather told DJ that Wyatt was cleaning tack. DJ stopped in the doorway of the small room and watched Wyatt rub the glycerin soap onto the leather.
“What’s up?” Wyatt asked.
DJ took a deep breath and stepped into the room. He hadn’t planned what he was going to say, but he had to tell Wyatt the truth. Had to let him know about the decision he’d made.
“The other night I caught Tyler sitting up in the old cottonwood,” DJ began. “I don’t think it was the first time.”
That made Wyatt whip his head up and his hands stopped moving. “What was he doing?” Dread filled Wyatt’s voice.
“Just sittin’, staring at the stars.”
“You know why?” Wyatt relaxed a little, returning his focus to his work.
“I think so. He eventually came down and we talked.” DJ tried to wrap his brain around the information, or rather, lack of information, Tyler had shared with him.
Wyatt waited.
“I’m worried,” DJ finally admitted.
“About Tyler?”
DJ paused before shaking his head. “No. About Tammie.” Wyatt’s frown reflected his confusion. DJ moved to sit on the bench near Wyatt. “I know she’s in trouble. Big trouble. She made Tyler swear not to tell anyone anything, and he’s sticking to that promise.”
Wyatt paused, thinking for a long minute. “I’ve wondered why he doesn’t say much.” They had both tried to get info out of him, with no luck. “You think he’s afraid?”
DJ pondered the question. Sitting still was killing his back and legs. His muscles were tight from lack of sleep lately. He needed the rest, but the stress of his worry was eating him alive. He gave up and paced.
“I need to find her,” he finally said. He didn’t have to wait long for Wyatt’s response.
“And do what? Let her have Tyler back?” Wyatt’s anger was controlled, barely. “Emily said you’d mentioned doing that. What if there’s nothing to find? Sounds like she doesn’t want to be found.”
Wyatt watched him, waiting. The silence was deafening. DJ gritted his teeth. “No. Tyler’s my son. Her wishes aren’t what’s important. But Tyler is.”
Wyatt shook his head and resumed his work. “What makes you think you can find her? The private investigator didn’t discover much.”
“Tyler knows something. I just have to get him to talk.”
“How? I don’t think the bribery you had planned will work.”
“No.” DJ paced back and forth a few more times. “That’s what actually made me realize I have to do this. His loyalty is solid. Too solid for a kid not wanted by his mother.”
Wyatt didn’t respond. The sound of his work and a stray whinny from the direction of the stalls filled the heavy silence.
DJ couldn’t take it anymore. “Okay, get it over with.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. Yell at me. Do that whole older-brother thing. Tell me I’m making a mistake. Something!”
Wyatt remained silent, staring down at his own hands for a long minute. DJ tried to guess what he was going to say. Then Wyatt looked up.
DJ barely remembered their father, who’d died when DJ was six. But while he didn’t remember the man that much, he remembered that look. DJ swallowed. Why had he started this whole conversation?
“Deej, I can’t tell you what to do this time. I wish I could.”
DJ cursed. He’d been counting on Wyatt to guide him.
“I’ll admit I’m not happy about this.” Wyatt’s voice shook. “I’ve watched you work too hard to recover, and to build your relationship with Tyler, to just—”
“Just what?” DJ asked after several seconds of quiet passed.
“Risk losing it all for a woman you don’t even know.”
That’s where Wyatt was wrong, and where DJ had to admit he’d been wrong, too. “I knew her once,” he whispered. Contradictory memories filled his mind. “I can’t put that woman together with someone who’d abandon her son.”
Wyatt nodded, and DJ wasn’t sure if it was in agreement or submission.
“When will you tell Tyler?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure how.” This was a new role for him. Here at home, he’d always been the younger brother, taking orders from half a dozen wannabe parents. In the military, his commanding officer and the mission told him what to do. He looked over at Wyatt, hoping he’d give him some direction.
“When your commanding officer called, it nearly killed me to think of you hurt. But it was worse knowing I had to tell Tyler. Deej, that’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Wyatt looked down and DJ turned away, looking out over the row of stalls instead of at his brother.
“Sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say.
“That’s not what I meant.” DJ heard Wyatt’s footsteps behind him. “What I’m trying to say is, I understand. I—” Wyatt swallowed. “I hate to admit it, but I agree. He’s a tough kid, but he needs this done.”
“Yeah.” DJ knew both those things.
“And so do you.” Wyatt’s big hand clamped DJ’s shoulder reassuringly. “You need this, too.” DJ didn’t even want to think about that piece of the screwed-up puzzle.
“Dad! Uncle Wyatt!” Tyler’s voice broke the quiet of the barn. DJ looked back at Wyatt. He hoped that Tyler hadn’t overheard what they were talking about—he wanted a little more time to formulate the words.
“In here,” DJ called, watching as Tyler came running into the tack room, his too-big cowboy boots clumping against the packed dirt. Tyler was out of breath and tried to talk and breathe all at once. “Slow down, buddy.”
“I... A...hawk. It just—” Tyler flapped his hands in the air, imitating a bird. “Swooped down. Like this. It got one of the doves!” His voice cracked. “It was cool. But—” The boy struggled with the contradiction between the wonder of life and death.
Wyatt didn’t speak, staying quiet, letting DJ take the lead. While it thrilled DJ to be able to deal with his son...it also scared the hell out of him. What if he messed up? What if he said the wrong thing? He tried to remember being eight.
“It’s cool and creepy all at once, huh?”
“Yeah.” Tyler nodded and settled on the bench next to Wyatt. “Whatcha doin’?”
Wyatt glanced up at DJ, then back down at the boy. “Cleaning tack. Want to help?”
“Sure.”
Carefully, Wyatt explained what to do. Tyler was awkward, but eager. And Wyatt simply waited and guided. DJ wondered if he’d ever have his brother’s patience and skill with the boy. He shook his head. “Ty?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“The other night, when we were talking on the porch, I know you were tired. But you remember what we talked about?”
Tyler didn’t speak or look up from the strip of leather—it looked huge in his small hands.
“Well, I was talking with Wyatt about it.”
That made Tyler look up. The panic in his eyes tore through DJ, but instead of making him rethink his decision, it only strengthened his resolve.
“Do you remember what I said?”
Tyler nodded and looked down. DJ heard him sniff and almost changed his mind. Wyatt held back, which he knew was killing his older brother, but DJ appreciated it. Slowly, painfully, DJ hunkered down beside his son. The dirt dug into his injured knees but he endured the discomfort. “I can’t ignore what you told me.” DJ settled his big hand on Tyler’s leg. “I just told Wyatt that I’m worried about your mom. I bet you are, too, right?”
Tyler simply nodded and shoved a fist across his eyes before looking up, his gaze bouncing back and forth between the two men.
Wyatt remained quiet, his jaw clenched. DJ wished he could be the silent one. Dread washed over him.
“I was hoping you’d help me find her.”
Silence stretched out. “What if she doesn’t want to come back?” Tyler finally whispered. “She shoulda been back by now.”
“Maybe.” DJ thought the same thing, but heck, who knew why she’d left Tyler. Maybe she couldn’t come back. He didn’t want to think about that, and he certainly didn’t want to voice his concerns to his son. “Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?”
“’Kay. What are we gonna do?”
The silence was heavy, and DJ briefly worried that he might not be able to find her. That was a scary prospect and one he wasn’t willing to accept. He’d found devious militants hiding in remote caves in the mountains. He could find one woman.
“We aren’t.” DJ hated himself for the disappointment that took over Tyler’s young face. “I am.” He knew Tyler thought he and Wyatt were the cavalry, and that they could do just about anything. He hated shattering that hero worship.
“You can’t go without me!” Tyler cried and jumped off the bench. “I won’t tell you anything unless you let me go with you.” He stomped an oversize cowboy boot with little effect.
“Tyler.” Wyatt finally spoke up. “Listen to your dad for a minute.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Want doesn’t have anything to do with it.” Wyatt’s voice grew stern and Tyler quieted.
Slowly, Tyler trudged back to the bench. His bottom lip quivered, but he didn’t give in. “How will you know where to look?”
“I’m gonna start with everything you know. Then I’m going to call a couple of my marine buddies to help.”
Tyler’s eyes lit up. “You’re gonna call in the marines to find my mom?”
DJ met Wyatt’s gaze. It wasn’t quite what he’d meant, but if it worked to get Tyler’s cooperation, he’d let him believe anything.
“Cool!” Tyler said, then he surprised and pleased DJ with a hug before running out of the barn.
Wyatt waited until Tyler was out of earshot before he spoke again. “I’m okay with it, but you’d better tell everyone else. I’m not filling them in.”
“Afraid of Addie’s wrath, are you?” DJ only halfway teased—they were both aware of their oldest sister’s strong personality.
“Damn straight I am. You’d better be, too.” They both laughed and followed Tyler to the house. “He’s probably already told them all. Be prepared.”
Wyatt’s farmhouse was big enough for the whole Hawkins family. The oversize country kitchen was loud with all the voices. No one said anything to him as he entered, but DJ saw the sideways glances. He wasn’t even surprised when everyone settled expectantly in the living room after dinner.
As a kid, DJ had hated the big family meetings, so it was with a healthy dose of chagrin that he realized he was the cause of this one.
The last time they’d all been together had been at Mom’s funeral, though most of them had managed to show up at the meeting when he’d been discharged from the hospital.
Poor Emily. He glanced over at the pretty judge who was perched on the arm of the couch next to Wyatt. The whole bunch of them had probably scared her half to death at first. Though she seemed used to them all now and didn’t seem too spooked. Maybe it was because she only had eyes for Wyatt these days. And the sappy look on his brother’s face said he was pleased about the whole thing.
DJ dragged one of the dining chairs from the kitchen, knowing there weren’t enough seats, and he couldn’t sit on the soft couch and stand back up without the help of the solid chair. He settled just inside the doorway.
He took in everyone around him. They all looked good. The big homemade meal the girls had put together was delicious, with Addie’s famous cookies to cap it off. Tyler had gone to the barn with Chet, the ranch foreman, to help put the animals down for the night. DJ knew what was coming next, and he wasn’t disappointed.
“What’s Tyler talking about?” Addie started the conversation. Her gaze found DJ.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t even try to act innocent, David James. He said you were going to look for his mother?”
DJ looked around. Every eye in the place was on him. Despite the fact that he loved each one of them, his stomach flipped. He really didn’t want to get into this. He’d been on his own for years—hell, he’d been overseas fighting a war. Why did facing off with Addie scare him more than staring down a terrorist?
He sat up straighter and looked directly at his oldest sister. “He’s right. I’m going to find Tammie.”
“Why?” Addie’s voice was full of anger. “What for?”
“It’s not up for negotiation, Ad,” DJ said softly.
“Surely you’re not taking Tyler with you?” Mandy said, trying to sit up in the overstuffed chair. Maybe he should have given her the wooden chair. Seven months pregnant—and still keeping mum on who the father was—she was already struggling to move.
“No. He’s staying here with Wyatt.”
Wyatt nodded but didn’t speak up. DJ frowned at him in a silent thanks-for-nothing-buddy way.
“What will you accomplish, besides getting Tyler’s hopes up, and hurting him?”
“I think there’s more to this situation. Something’s not right.”
“So why do you have to go fix it?” Mandy asked. “She gave him up.” She rubbed her rounding belly as if caressing her unborn child. “She abandoned him. She doesn’t deserve to have him back.”
“I didn’t say I was giving him back to her.” DJ’s anger erupted. “He’s my son and he’s staying with this family, but Tyler needs this.”
“Why?” asked Tara, his youngest sister, sprawled on the couch on the other side of Wyatt, her sneaker-clad feet propped up on the scarred coffee table. Her head tilted just a bit to the side as she tried to understand him. She’d always been DJ’s biggest supporter; never angry, never judging, she’d quietly listened to dozens of his harebrained schemes growing up. Though he knew she’d shook her head at him many times.
“Tyler believes in her.” DJ lifted a hand to stall any more comments. “He wishes on stars to be with her.” DJ cleared his throat. “I owe it to him to at least try to figure out what’s going on.”
Jason sat forward, his forearms on his knees. “Help us out here, Emily. This could jeopardize custody. What if she does want him back? Have you considered that, DJ?” Always the lawyer, Jason thought too legally at times.
Emily frowned. “We’d need to talk to Warren.” Warren Litchfield was the judge who’d taken over DJ’s custody case once it became clear Emily had lost her objectivity as far as the boy and Wyatt—mostly Wyatt—were concerned.
“Right now, that’s not the issue. First we need to figure out what the situation is. And then decide what’s next,” DJ said.
Suddenly, half a dozen voices filled the room. Every single one of his siblings had an opinion. That was nothing new. And it also wasn’t new that he ignored them all. He’d stopped doing what they told him around the time he’d turned sixteen and realized he could drive away in a car.
“Stop it!” Tyler’s voice cut through the din. He stood in the open doorway—no one had heard or seen him come in. How long he’d been there was anyone’s guess. But from the look on his face, he’d heard plenty.
“She’s my mom. Dad has to find her.” His voice cracked. “’Fore she gets in more trouble. That man might hurt her. Like he hurt me. I know it.”
DJ rose to his feet and walked over to his son. Tyler looked up at him, imploring, with tears in his eyes. “Please, Dad. Don’t change your mind. Go find her.” Tears fell down the boy’s cheeks. “I want my mom.” Tyler threw his arms around DJ’s waist, holding tight.
Slowly, DJ took a step back so he could awkwardly kneel down to peer into his son’s face. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll find her. Everyone’s just concerned.”
“They don’t like Mama.” Tyler glared at his aunts and uncles. “But she’s the best mom. She’s just scared. She took care of me the best she could.” He hiccuped. “I just wanna go home.”
“I know.” DJ didn’t think this was the time to remind Tyler that this was his home now. Instead, he wrapped his arm around the boy’s thin shoulders and turned to face the room of people. His gaze traveled to each one. So familiar to him, but virtual strangers to Tyler. He felt Tyler lean into his side.
“As I said, this isn’t up for negotiation. It’s a done deal. I’m just letting you all know what we’re planning. You can either help, or not. Your choice. But we’d appreciate at least your support.”
The room fell silent.
Wyatt spoke first. “You got it. Whatever you need,” he said softly, holding Emily’s hand. She nodded, too.
Wyatt nudged Tara in the ribs. “Hey, I’ve always supported him, even with the insane things.” Everyone, even Tyler, laughed.
“I’ll do whatever you need on the legal end. Just let me know.” Jason nodded.
“You got it.” Mandy smiled. “Though, in this condition, I’m not much help to anyone.” She ran a loving hand over her tummy again, smiling. “Hey, little one, soon you’ll get to meet all these aunts and uncles. And a cousin, too,” she whispered to the baby.
Addie was the only holdout. And she was the only one besides Wyatt who Tyler really knew. Don’t let him down, DJ silently pleaded. DJ hugged Tyler, then walked over to face his older sister.
“You...you just be careful, okay?” She stood and faced him. “I know you think you’re the mighty warrior, but we just got you back.” Her voice broke.
“I’ll be careful, Ad.” He looked down at his older sister and saw the sheen in her eyes. “I promise.” He glanced back at his son. “I have a whole lot more to lose now.”
* * *
THE EVEN MOTION of the late-night city bus nearly lulled Tammie to sleep. When something hard hit her shoulder, she jerked awake. Her arms tightened around her backpack the same instant a skinny arm snaked over her shoulder. Dirty, clawlike fingers grasped the strap and tugged hard.
Tammie was worn-out but not stupid.
The would-be thief got more than he bargained for when she yanked hard. “No!” she cried, ripping her backpack free.
“Bitch.” The boy spit out the word easily and lunged over the seat.
“Hey!” the bus driver yelled. “What’s going on back there?”
“Mind your business, old man.”
Tammie took the opportunity to stand and wobble through the aisle, the backpack clutched to her chest. She settled in the seat right behind the driver.
A bus stop loomed ahead and the driver pulled over to the curb. “Off!” the driver yelled. The boy stood, cursing as he exited through the rear doors. She heard his steps fade away in the darkness.
“You, too, lady.”
“But—”
“I’m done for the night. Don’t need no more trouble. Go on.”
The old man glared at her and inclined his head to the open door.
“But my stop’s the next one.”
“Then you won’t have far to walk. Move it.”
The dark night was thick outside the lights of the bus. She knew where she was, but that didn’t lessen her fear of walking through this neighborhood at night. Alone. Heck, she didn’t walk it in the daylight. She normally got off right across the street from work.
The doors squeaked shut and the strong smell of diesel filled the air as the bus moved away. No time for standing around. She had three blocks to go. Three long, dark blocks.
Her footsteps seemed loud in the darkness as she nearly ran, glancing over her shoulder several times, just in case the thief was still lurking in the shadows.
Tammie clung tight to the backpack she’d filled all those months ago in Florida, cataloging what was inside with each step. Her toiletries. Her underwear. Two pairs of jeans, one set of sweats and three T-shirts. Her wallet. A set of keys that now belonged to nothing since she’d sold her car and had abandoned her house. Two sample pieces of the jewelry she’d made that had been in the pack from that last, fateful show. They’d still been in the pack when she’d tossed in everything else.
And there was a book.
The hardcover copy of Wuthering Heights wasn’t just for reading, though it was good for that, too. Nestled in between the pages was all she had left of Tyler. His baby pictures. His first school photo. The awkward goodbye note he’d written when she’d told him to go with his uncle Wyatt. And all the money she had in the world stuck in different pages. Five hundred and forty-six dollars. The thirty-three cents at the bottom of the backpack jangled every once in a while when she moved.
Everything else was gone.
Stolen by Dom. Destroyed by his thugs. Or just plain used up.
She refused to cry. Absolutely refused to give in. Her father had always accused her of being stubborn. Maybe for once his being right was a good thing.
The fleeting thought of her parents was like a speed bump and she nearly stumbled. Righting herself, she leaned on the wall of a darkened building to catch her breath. She just wanted to find a hole and crawl into it.
Tammie had no idea what to do next. No clue how to get her life back. She’d tried confronting Dom. But that’s what had caused him to turn on her in the first place, made him destroy everything she’d worked so hard for. She’d tried going to the authorities to ask for help. What a joke. She had no real proof. No clout. Nothing. They’d told her there was nothing they could do.
Despite the frightening warning she’d been given by his buddies, she’d filed a report anyway. But it hadn’t done any good.
A copy of that police report was nestled between her book’s pages, as well.
She’d done everything she could think of, only to lose over and over again to him.
And so she’d finally run.
And he’d followed. Always finding her. Always destroying what little she’d managed to build.
Belatedly, she’d figured out that he found them whenever she registered Tyler for school. She couldn’t take him out of school—she wouldn’t do that to him—yet changing cities and schools every couple of months was damaging and a waste. His education had definitely suffered and that had been another reason to give him up until she could figure out how to fix her situation—and keep Tyler safe.
Her throat ached, clogged with tears of frustration and loss.
She just wanted to go home. All the places she’d lived over the past year flashed behind her closed eyelids. The tiny bungalow she’d bought in Florida hurt the most to think about. Her studio. Tyler’s bedroom full of his toys. Her room with the soft mattress and her favorite blue decorations. She even missed the leaky pipe in the bathroom.
All of it gone.
Anger replaced the threatening tears. She wanted it back. All of it.
She’d do whatever she could to get it back.
Slowly, wiping her eyes on her shoulder, Tammie stood away from the wall. She took a deep breath and started walking again. One way or another, she was going home.
When she rounded the corner where the diner sat, the bright lights of the block eased her fears. The diner. The liquor store. The pawnshop...
She’d met the owner of the pawnshop when he’d come into the diner a couple weeks ago. Nice, older guy. Tipped good.
Stepping inside the brightly lit store, Tammie noticed that the pawnshop was huge. Every last corner was filled with pieces of furniture, electronics galore, some odd stuffed animal heads on the wall and cases of jewelry. She’d never seen anything like it. Tammie ignored most of it, especially the jewelry cases—it would hurt too much. Instead, she walked purposefully to the cases at the back. Five hundred and forty-six dollars wouldn’t buy her a new gun. It wouldn’t buy her a big gun.
But it would buy her a working one.
Her hands shook as she held the cold metal...thing in the palm of her hand.
“You know how to shoot that, lady?” the kid behind the counter asked.
“Not yet,” was all she said.
She knew she was taking a risk, filling out all the paperwork, but if Dom were following her—maybe he’d think twice knowing she was armed.
Her resolve and anger slipped into place and she calmed. Carefully, she counted the precious bills out onto the counter, leaving herself with barely enough money to eat until she got paid on Friday.
She headed out into the artificially lit night toward the diner. She’d be early—again—but Cora didn’t mind her crashing in the tiny break room, as long as she was ready and on her feet in time for the rush.
She hefted her backpack, its newly added weight comforting. She was ready.
