Читать книгу Lone Star Nights - Delores Fossen, Delores Fossen - Страница 9

CHAPTER FOUR

THERE WERE ONLY a handful of times in Lucky’s life when he’d been rendered speechless, and this was one of them.

The “girl” walking up the hall toward him was indeed a girl. Technically. She was female, nearly as tall as Cassie, and she was wearing a black skirt and top. Or perhaps that was paint. Hard to tell. The skirt was short and skintight, more suited for, well, someone older.

“This is Mackenzie Compton,” Bernie said.

Cassie blew out a breath that sounded like one of relief. Lucky had no idea what she was relieved about so he just stared at her.

“This isn’t a child,” Cassie explained, relief in her voice, too. “So obviously there’s no need for us to take custody.”

Right. “What Cassie just said,” Lucky told Bernie.

However, Bernie burst that bubble of hope right off. “Mackenzie just turned thirteen.”

Maybe ten years ago, she had. But she wasn’t thirteen now. “Can she prove that?” Lucky blurted out.

Mackenzie didn’t say a word. Didn’t have any reaction to that whatsoever. She just stood there looking like a both-arms-down Statue of Liberty who’d been vandalized with black spray paint. She had black hair, black nails, black lipstick and stared at them as if they were beings from another planet. Beings that she didn’t want to get to know.

Good. The feeling was mutual.

But thirteen?

“I can prove her age,” Bernie supplied. “I have her birth certificate and school records.” Bernie handed him a folder. “Her sister, Mia, is four.”

Four. Well, hell. Now, that was a child, though he still wasn’t convinced Mackenzie was a teenager. Maybe if she scrubbed off that half inch of makeup, there’d be some trace of a girl, but right now he wasn’t seeing it.

However, he was seeing something. An extra set of legs. Either Mackenzie had four of them, a pair significantly shorter than the ones wearing that black skirt, or her little sister was hiding behind her.

Mackenzie took one step to the side, and there she was. A child. A real one. No goth clothes for her. She was wearing a pink dress with flowers and butterflies on it, and her blond hair had been braided into pigtails. She had a ragged pink stuffed pig in the crook of her arm.

If there had been a definition of “scared kid” in the dictionary, this kid’s photo would have been next to it. Mia was clinging to her sister’s skirt, her big blue eyes shiny with tears that looked ready to spill right down her cheeks.

Lucky took a big mental step back at the same time that he took an actual step forward. He didn’t have any paternal instincts, none, but he knew a genuinely sad girl when he saw one, and it cut him to the core. He went down on one knee so he could be at her eye level.

“I’m Lucky McCord,” he said, hoping to put her at ease. It didn’t work. Mia clung even tighter, though there wasn’t much fabric in Mackenzie’s skirt to cling to.

Mia. Such a little name for such a little girl.

“Do either of them...” Cassie started, looking at Bernie. But then she turned to the girls. “Either of you, uh, talk?”

Mia nodded. Blinked back those tears. Her bottom lip started to quiver.

Well, hell. That did it. Lucky fished through his pocket, located the only thing he could find resembling candy. A stick of gum. And he handed it to Mia. She took it only after looking up at her big sister, who nodded and grunted. What Big Sis didn’t do was say a word to confirm that she did indeed have verbal communication skills beyond a primitive grunt.

“The girls have had a tough go of it lately,” Bernie said as if choosing his words carefully.

Lucky added another mental well, hell. He’d probably said hell more times today than he had in the past decade. He’d always believed it was the sign of a weak mind when a man had to rely on constant profanity as a way of communicating his emotions, but his mind was swaying in a weak direction today.

And he didn’t know what the hell to do.

“Where have they been staying since my grandmother’s death?” Cassie asked. “Gran passed away two days ago.”

Good question, but Lucky didn’t repeat himself with another what she said.

“With Scooter Jenkins,” Bernie answered.

Lucky had to do it. He had to think another hell.

“You know this man?” Cassie asked him.

“Scooter’s a woman.” At least Lucky thought she was. She had a five-o’clock shadow, but that was possibly hormonal. “She’s one of the rodeo clowns.”

Spooky as all get-out, too. While Scooter had worked for Dixie Mae as long as Lucky could remember, she was hardly maternal material. Nor was she exactly Dixie Mae’s friend. The only way Scooter would have taken the girls was for Dixie Mae to have paid her a large sum of cash.

“Ten grand,” Bernie said as if anticipating Lucky’s question. “The deal was for Scooter to keep them until after the funeral and then transfer physical custody to Cassie and you.”

Since Scooter was nowhere to be seen, that meant she’d likely just dropped off the kids. Lucky would speak to her about that later. But for now, he needed to fix some things.

Apparently, Cassie had the same fixing-things idea. “Why don’t Bernie and I go in his office and discuss some solutions?” Cassie said to him. “Maybe you can wait in the lobby with the girls?”

Lucky preferred to be in on that discussion, but it wasn’t a discussion he wanted to have in front of Mia. Not with those tears in her eyes.

“Please,” Cassie whispered to him. Or at least that’s what Lucky thought she said at first. But when she repeated it, he realized she had said, “Breathe.”

Oh, man. Cassie looked ready to bolt so maybe her talking to Bernie was a good idea after all. While the two of them were doing that, maybe he’d try to have the kids wait with Wilhelmina so he could join the grown-ups.

Cassie and Bernie went to his office. Cassie shut the door, all the while repeating “Breathe.” Lucky went in the direction of the reception area.

Where there was no Wilhelmina.

Just a pair of suitcases sitting on the floor next to her empty desk. But there was a little sign that said I’ll Be Back. The clock on the sign was set for a half hour from now. It might as well have been the next millennium.

Mia was holding on to the gum and pig as if they were some kind of lifelines, all the while volleying glances between her sister and him. Since it was possible there’d be some yelling going on in Bernie’s office, Lucky motioned for the girls to sit in the reception area.

He sat.

They didn’t.

And the moments crawled by. The silence went way past the uncomfortable stage.

Lucky didn’t have any idea what to say to them. The only experience he’d had with kids was his soon-to-be nephew, Ethan. He was two and a half, and Lucky’s brother Riley was engaged to Ethan’s mom, Claire. Too bad Ethan wasn’t around now to break the iceberg.

“So, what grade are you in?” he asked, just to be asking something.

Mia held up the four fingers of her left hand—the hand not clutching the gum but rather the one on the pig. Since he doubted she was in the fourth grade, he figured maybe she was communicating her age. So Lucky went with that. He flashed his ten fingers three times and added three more. Of course, she was way too young to get that he was thirty-three, but he thought it might get a smile from her.

It didn’t.

He tried Mackenzie next. “Let me guess your favorite color. Uh, blue?” He smiled to let her know it was a joke. The girl’s black-painted mouth didn’t even quiver.

And the silence rolled on.

Oh, well. At least Bernie had said this so-called custody arrangement would only last a day or two, and they weren’t chatter bugs. Mia’s tears seemed to have temporarily dried up, too. Plus, Cassie was likely jumping through hoops to do whatever it took for them not to have to leave here with these kids. Lucky was all for that, but he wasn’t heartless. He still wanted to leave them in a safe place. Preferably a safe place that didn’t involve him.

What the heck had Dixie Mae been thinking?

“Bull,” someone said, and for one spooky moment, Lucky thought it was Dixie Mae whispering from beyond the grave.

But it was Mia.

Those little blue eyes had landed on his belt buckle, and there was indeed a bull and bull rider embossed into the shiny silver. Lucky had lots of buckles—easy for that to happen when you rode as long as he’d been riding—but he had two criteria for the ones he wore. Big and shiny. This was the biggest and shiniest of the bunch.

“Yep, it’s a bull,” Lucky verified.

Mia didn’t come closer, but she did lean out from sour-faced Big Sis for a better look.

“I ride bulls just like that one.” He tapped the buckle, and hoped that wasn’t too abstract for a four-year-old. Of course, she had clearly recognized it as a bull, so maybe she got it.

And the silence returned.

“So, what was it like staying with Scooter?” he asked.

That got a reaction from Mackenzie. She huffed. Not exactly a sudden bout of chatter, but Lucky understood her completely. What he didn’t understand was why Dixie Mae had left them with Scooter in the first place. But then, there were a lot of things he didn’t understand about Dixie Mae right now.

“How about you?” he asked Mia. “Did you like staying with Scooter?”

She pinched her nose, effectively communicating that Scooter often smelled. Often kept on her clown makeup even when she wasn’t working. The only thing marginally good he could say about the woman was that her visible tattoos weren’t misspelled.

“Do we gotta go back with Scooter?” Mia asked.

Lucky wasn’t sure who was more surprised by the outburst of actual words—Mackenzie or him. It took him a second to get past the shock of the sound of Mia’s voice and respond.

“Do you want to go back with her?” he asked.

“No.” Mackenzie that time. Mia mumbled her own “No.” Judging from the really fast response from both girls, and that it was the only syllable he’d gotten from Mackenzie, he’d hit a nerve.

A nerve that affected his next question. “So, where do you want to go?”

Now, this would have been the time for both girls to start firing off answers. With friends, relatives, rock stars. To a goth store, et cetera. He got a shrug from Mia and a glare from Mackenzie.

What had he expected? Bernie had already told him their parents were out of the picture. Orphans. Something that Lucky more than understood, but he’d been nineteen when his folks died. Barely an adult, but that had barely prevented him from having to stay with a clown.

Though there were a couple of times when Lucky had called Logan just that.

More silence. If this went on, he might just take a nap. Lucky went with a different approach, though. “Is there a question you want to ask me?”

Mia looked up at her sister, and even though Mackenzie’s mouth barely moved, Lucky thought he saw the hint of a smile. The kind of smile that had some stink eye on it.

“Have you ever been arrested?” Mackenzie asked. Yeah, definitely some stink eye. “Because Scooter said you had been.”

“I have,” he admitted. “Nothing major, though, and I never spent more than a few hours in jail.”

Except that one time when there’d been a female deputy who’d come on to him. But that time he’d stayed longer by choice. Best not to mention that, though. In fact, there was a lot about his life he wouldn’t mention.

“What’d you get ’rrested for?” Mia asked.

Lucky smiled, not just at the pronunciation but the cute voice. Cute kid, too.

“Drinking beer.” Like Bernie had earlier, Lucky chose his words wisely. At any rate, beer or some other alcohol had usually been at the root of his bad behavior.

Mackenzie made a hmmp sound as if she didn’t believe him. Lucky didn’t elaborate even though there was no telling what Scooter had told them.

“Don’t drink beer,” Mia advised him in a serious tone that made him have to fight back another smile.

The little girl came closer, leaving her sister’s side and not even looking up for permission. She climbed into the seat next to him, tore the gum stick in half and gave him the bigger of the two pieces.

“Thanks,” Lucky managed to say.

Mia then offered half of her half to her sister, but Mackenzie only shook her head, grunted and deepened her scowl. Much more of that and she was going to get a face cramp.

“Is Lucky even your real name?” Mackenzie again. “Because if it is, it’s a stupid name.”

Such a cheery girl. “It’s a nickname. My real name’s Austin, but nobody ever calls me that.”

Heck, most people didn’t even know it.

“My grandpa McCord gave me the name when I was just three years old,” he explained. “I somehow managed to get into the corral with a mean bull. And despite the fact I was waving a red shirt at him so I could play matador, I came out without a scratch.”

Lucky, indeed. His grandpa could have just called him stupid considering the idiotic thing he’d done.

“What about the lady doctor?” Mackenzie asked, clearly not impressed with his story. She folded her arms over her chest. “Has she been arrested, too?”

“Can’t say,” Lucky answered honestly. “But I doubt it.” Though something was going on with Cassie. Those breathe mumblings weren’t a good sign.

“Is she gay?” Mackenzie continued.

“No,” he said, way too loud and way too fast. He paused. “Why do you ask?”

“Her shoes and clothes,” Mackenzie quickly supplied.

Lucky groaned. “It’s never a good idea to stereotype people.” That was the second time today he’d given such a warning, though Mackenzie probably didn’t have a clue what that word meant. She didn’t seem the sort to work on building her vocabulary.

He cursed himself. Huffed. He needed to take his own advice. Yeah, stereotypes weren’t a good idea.

“Are you two together, then?” Mackenzie asked. “The lady doctor and you?” she clarified, though her question needed no such clarification.

Lucky almost preferred the silence to this. “No. I was business partners with Cassie’s grandmother, Dixie Mae, and Cassie and I went to high school together.”

“I know who her grandmother is,” Mackenzie snapped. “Was,” she added, also in a snap. She didn’t offer more on the subject of Dixie Mae, but since Mackenzie didn’t complain about her, maybe that meant she’d gotten along with the woman.

That would be a first, but hey, miracles happened. Lucky had found a way to love the woman so maybe Mackenzie and Mia had, too. Or rather just Mia, he amended when Mackenzie’s scowl deepened.

“I just thought you and the lady doctor were...” Mackenzie said, but she waved it off. “It was just something Dixie Mae said.”

That got his attention. “What’d she say? Specifically what’d she say about Cassie and me? Because if this is Dixie Mae’s way of matchmaking from the grave—”

He stopped. Wished he hadn’t said it because of the look it put on Mia’s face. Little name, little girl. Whopping big ears. She’d already been shuffled around too much, and she didn’t need to hear that she might go through another shuffling all because Dixie Mae wanted her granddaughter and her “boy” to end up together.

Something that wouldn’t happen.

Cassie had already made that plenty clear.

“We need to get one thing straight,” Mackenzie continued a couple of seconds later. “If you hurt my sister, I’ll punch you and the lady doctor right in your faces.”

“Kenzie doesn’t mean it,” Mia whispered behind her hand. She unwrapped her piece of gum, tore it in half again. One piece she put in her mouth. The other, in her pocket.

“I do mean it,” Mackenzie insisted. “Nobody hurts my sister. Nobody.”

“I understand. I’ve got a kid sister of my own. Her name is Anna.” Because he thought it might give them some common ground, he started to tell her about Anna, that she was a college student in Florida, that he’d walk through fire for her. But Lucky stopped.

And he silently said another hell.

Had someone hurt Mia before? Was that why Mackenzie had doled out that threat? And for the record, he did think she meant it.

Mackenzie clammed up again, and even though he looked at Mia to see how she was dealing with all of this, she was swinging her legs, humming to herself and rolling the silver foil from her gum into a little ball. Lucky would have pressed Mackenzie for more info, or rather any info, but he heard the footsteps coming up the hall.

Finally.

He stood, moving in front of the girls in case Cassie and Bernie had to tell him something that wasn’t meant for those big ears. But selective muteness must have been catching because Bernie sure wasn’t talking, and Cassie dodged his gaze.

“Well?” Lucky finally prompted in a whisper. Probably not a soft enough one because Mackenzie and Mia weren’t doing any gaze-dodging at all. They had their baby blues pinned to him.

“We reached a solution,” Cassie said.

“Good?” And, yes, it was a question. One they didn’t answer. “All right, where are they going?”

Bernie and Cassie exchanged uneasy glances. “Home,” Bernie answered, looking right at Lucky. “With you.”