Читать книгу Madison's Children - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 11

WALKER TURNED ONTO THE DIRT road that led to the Grubbs’s trailer house. No one spoke. He glanced toward the backseat and saw Georgie was asleep. Haley leaned in close to him, always there, always protective of her baby brother. But her face was a mask of pain.

How was he going to reconcile with his daughter?

“Mr. Walker.” Ginny turned to him in the front seat. “You can let me out here. I’ll walk the rest of the way. I’ll tell my dad I missed the bus.”

“Sorry, Ginny. I need to talk to Earl.”

“Why, Daddy?” Haley asked in her usual angry tone. “It’s only going to cause trouble.”

“Mr. Walker…”

“Trust me, girls.”

“Yeah, right.” He heard Haley mutter under her breath.

He ran a hand over the steering wheel, feeling lower than sludge. Neither girl had any faith in his abilities to defuse a potentially dangerous situation. He’d have to show them. This time Earl was getting the full brunt of his anger.

Pulling into the lane that led to the Grubbs’s place, he made to get out and open the aluminum gate covered with chicken wire.

“I’ll get it, Mr. Walker,” Ginny said, and hopped out.

Earl raised goats, pigs and chickens. They were all over the cluttered yard. Ginny shooed chickens and goats away so she could open the gate.

He drove through, and Ginny quickly got back in the car. The old trailer was straight ahead. Not a blade of grass grew in the dirt yard. The aluminum siding was rusted in spots, and the screens were missing. A makeshift porch attached to the front looked ready to collapse. In stained overalls and a discolored flannel shirt, Earl lounged in a chair propped against the trailer. He was raising a jug to his lips. Walker knew it was homemade wine. And good was nowhere in sight.

Earl could be a decent-enough guy when he was sober, but those occasions were very rare. He had an aversion to getting a job, and he blamed God, the government, neighbors and anyone who came within his vision for his poverty.

Walker glanced at Haley. “Stay in the car with your brother.”

“Like I want to get out” was her clipped response.

Walker opened his door and the stench from the pigpen filled his nostrils. It took a moment to catch his breath. How did people live like this? He shooed chickens away and was careful not to step in goat crap.

Two hunting dogs barked and pulled at their chains at the end of the trailer.

“What you done now, gal?” Earl asked when he saw Ginny, his words slurred. He took another swig from the jug. “If you’re in trouble again, I’m gonna beat your sorry ass.”

Ginny stood next to him, and he could see her trembling. She was frightened to death. Fueled by anger, Walker started up the steps, the decaying boards protesting under his weight.

“My daughter and Ginny missed the bus, so I brought Ginny home.” It was a lie, but it would suffice for now.

“She got legs, she can walk. There ain’t nothing wrong with her but stupidity.”

“Go inside,” Walker said to Ginny.

“You don’t tell my daughter what to do,” Earl spit out.

Walker nodded to the girl, and she opened the screen door. A thin woman holding a small girl stood there. Four other children of various ages were behind her. He noticed the woman’s bruised face before she quickly pulled Ginny inside.

“You better have supper ready on time,” Earl shouted at his wife. “And stop mollycoddling those brats.”

Walker had had enough. He jerked the jug out of Earl’s hand and flung it into the yard. It hit a chicken and she flapped away squawking.

“What…the hell…?”

Walker kicked the chair forward with his foot. Earl spit and sputtered, but being drunk, his reflexes were slow. Taking Earl’s face in his hand, he yanked it up so he could look into his bloodshot eyes.

“Listen up, Earl.”

“You…y-ou b-bastard.”

Walker squeezed tighter and Earl’s straggly beard scratched his fingers. “You’re not paying attention, Earl. Now, listen. If you lay one hand on Ginny, I’m coming back with both fists loaded, and I’m going to show you what a beating feels like. You got that?”

“Y-ou…y-ou…” Earl sputtered.

Walker squeezed even tighter. “And lay off the wine.”

Earl’s eyes almost bugged out of his head and Walker released him. Rubbing his face, Earl said, “You can’t tell me what to do on my own p-property.”

“I have a badge that says I can,” Walker replied. “And you better listen to me. I’m coming back tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. If Ginny, your wife or any of your kids have bruises, I’m arresting you and throwing your ass in jail. I’ll make sure you get convicted, and Earl, those inmates in Huntsville don’t care for child abusers. They’ll have a good old time with you.”

Earl’s bugged-out eyes opened wider. “Y-you can’t…”

Walker straightened. “This is a warning. Next time I won’t be so nice.”

“I can’t go…go to jail. I got kids to feed.”

Walker looked at this man who had reached the very bottom. “Think about it, Earl. All you have to do is stop drinking and take care of your family instead of using them as punching bags.”

“You think you’re high and mighty—”

Walker pointed a finger at him. “Get your act together. I’ll be returning in a couple of hours to make sure you heed my warning.” Saying that, he swung off the porch and headed for his car.

And clean air.

THE RIDE HOME WAS AGAIN in silence. Georgie woke up as he pulled into their driveway. The house was a block away from Walker’s General Store. He had no interest in running the store, but Nell had. So they worked out a compromise. They split the profits fifty-fifty and she drew a salary.

Walker had also inherited his father’s house and land. Nell lived in his grandfather’s house, which was next door. When he’d first brought the kids to High Cotton, Nell had helped him, but he could see now it had been a mistake. Her life was the store, and there wasn’t room for anything else. He would have to find other babysitting arrangements when he had to go on a call.

He lifted Georgie out of his car seat, and they went inside the white clapboard two-story house with the wraparound porch detailed with black gingerbread trim. The Walkers before him had taken very good care of the house, so it was in good shape. When he’d returned, he’d had central air and heat installed for the kids.

Since he was an only child, he’d often wondered what he was going to do with the house, land and store in High Cotton. He had no desire to live here. He’d been away too long. But life had a way of mocking his plans. At the ripe old age of thirty-six, this was the only place he wanted to raise his kids now.

He set Georgie on his feet in the big kitchen. “It’s about suppertime, what—”

Haley made a run for the downstairs bathroom and he could hear her throwing up. Dammit! He didn’t know how to help her. She’d started having problems when she was about six. The doctor thought she might have irritable bowel syndrome, but she didn’t. More tests were run and the diagnosis was a nervous stomach. She needed a stress-free environment and a healthy diet void of spicy and high-acidity foods. No matter what he and Trisha had tried, nothing completely cured Haley’s problem.

The divorce had triggered a major upset, and Walker could see his daughter wasting away before his eyes.

“Haley sick,” Georgie said, twisting his hands.

“Yeah.” Walker tousled his son’s hair. “She’ll be okay.” She had to be. “Daddy will be right back. Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How about Shrek?” he asked, making his way into the living room.

“No. Finding Nemo,” Georgie shouted from behind him.

Walker found the movie and slipped it into the DVD player and pushed buttons on the remote. Georgie grabbed his Curious George off the sofa and settled in front of the TV. Walker hurried to the bathroom.

Turning the knob, he saw that the door was unlocked. He tapped so as not to invade her privacy.

A muffled “Go away” came through the door.

“Haley, sweetheart, it’s Daddy.”

“Go away.”

He couldn’t do that. “I’m coming in.” He opened the door and glanced around. The bathroom was large and had an antique bathtub with claw feet. Everything in the room was antique from the pedestal sink to the pull-chain toilet. Haley was sitting by the toilet, her back to the wall, her forehead on her drawn-up knees.

Ignoring the horrible smell, he sank down by her. Honestly, he didn’t know what else to do.

“Are you okay?” He stared at his boots, searching for the right words.

“Just leave me alone,” she muttered against her knees.

“I’m your dad and I’m not leaving you alone—ever.”

“Oh, yeah.” She raised her head and his heart took a jolt at her pale face. “You leave us with Aunt Nell all the time.”

“I have a job, and I’m not leaving you alone here at the house.” They’d had this conversation before. It was the only thing Haley had opened up about.

“Why not?” Her watery eyes suddenly cleared. “I’m ten years old and I can take care of Georgie. If something goes wrong, we live in the middle of High Cotton and I could get help in no time.”

“So you think you’re responsible enough.”

“As much as Aunt Nell.”

He mulled this over and wanted to meet her halfway. “I’ll think about it.”

She placed her head on her knees again.

Several seconds went by. “We need to talk about today.”

She didn’t respond.

“I don’t know where your mother is.”

Her head shot up, her eyes filled with something he couldn’t describe. It was almost like fear. Was his daughter afraid of him?

“You do, too.”

“Haley, I don’t.”

“You’re lying.”

“I have no reason to lie.” He tried not to raise his voice. “You’re old enough to know your mother left of her own free will. I have sole custody of you and Georgie.”

“You made her leave.” The fire was back in her eyes. “You were gone all the time helping other people and you should have been home helping us.”

“Your mother and I had problems for a long time, and yes, a lot of it was because of my job. I can’t change that now, but I can be here for you and Georgie.” He paused and prayed for a break in her implacable armor. “Please give me a chance.”

“I want to see Mama,” she sobbed against her knees. “I have to see my mama.”

He tried to put his arm around her, but she jerked away. Oh, God, his heart stopped beating and he hurt for her. He felt her pain deep inside him—a place that was created the day he became a father.

The mass in his throat clogged his vocal cords. “Your mother…”

She lifted her head, tears streaming down her face. “I know she left us, and you know where she is. You just won’t tell me. I…I…” Sobs racked her thin body, and this time he pulled her into his arms and held her, searching for those magical words that would help them both. But they were elusive, and he hated that he was so bad at being a parent.

“Please, Haley. Give me a chance.” His words were hoarse, and he had to swallow a couple of times to get them out.

Before she could say anything, Georgie came running in and wiggled into his lap. “Oh, it stinks in here.” He looked up at Walker. “I’m hungry.” The odor didn’t seem to bother his appetite.

“Suppertime,” Walker said, and tried to act normal. “Haley, would you like chicken noodle soup and a grilled cheese sandwich? You usually can hold that down.”

“I guess.” She straightened and moved as far away from him as she could. That hurt a little more.

“I want peanut butter and jelly.” Georgie gave his menu choice. “Grape jelly. I don’t like any other kind.” Walker had made the mistake of using strawberry one time and Georgie had never forgotten it.

“I know, son.” Walker stood with the boy in his arms. “And we can have ice cream afterward.”

“Yay!” Georgie clapped his hands. Haley was silent. She was silent all through dinner. She was silent as they washed the dishes. Instead of watching TV, she took a bath and went to bed.

Soon he tucked Georgie in, but Walker couldn’t sleep. His mind was in overdrive. His children’s well-being was at the front of his mind—always. All he could do was be here for them and maybe Haley wouldn’t try to run away again.

Not only was he worried about his kids, but Ginny was on his mind, too. If anything happened to her, he would never forgive himself, not to mention that he’d have no hope of his daughter ever forgiving him.

An hour later, he still wasn’t asleep. He got up, dressed and went into Georgie’s room and gathered him into his arms. He carried him to Haley and tucked him in beside her.

“Daddy,” she mumbled sleepily.

“I’m going to check on the Grubbs family. Take care of Georgie.” He handed her the portable phone. “Call my cell if there’s a problem.” She wanted responsibility, so he was going to give it to her—for a while.

“Oh.” Her voice sounded excited.

In less than thirty minutes he was back. Earl was passed out on the sofa. Verna, his wife, said everything was fine. Ginny seconded that and Walker felt a lot better.

He fell into bed exhausted, but the worry over his kids was always there. What was he going to do? He needed help.

Blue eyes edged their way into his subconscious. His eyes popped open. Madison Belle. It was hard to explain his reaction to her. When he was a senior in high school, he and his dad had gone on a fishing trip to the Gulf Coast. They’d rented a cabin on a secluded cove outside Rockport, Texas. The cabin was shaded with gnarled, bent oaks, tempered and tried by the Gulf winds. The water in the cove held him mesmerized. It was the purest blue he’d ever seen, as if it had been untouched by nature and its wrath. He thought he’d never see that color again.

Until he looked into Madison’s eyes.

She had that same purity. That same quality of not being tainted by the ups and downs of life. It had to be an illusion. No woman could be as pure or as good as Madison appeared.

For a cynical man like himself, he knew it was an illusion. His motto was to avoid the woman in case she could look into his soul and see all his sins.

MADISON SLEPT VERY LITTLE. She couldn’t stop thinking and worrying about Walker’s kids. And Ginny. She was so young to be pregnant. Her family situation seemed dire, and she wondered how the girl would cope?

A baby.

Maddie would give everything she had for a child. It seemed so unfair, but she’d come to grips with her situation long ago. Every time she thought about it, though, she felt that empty place inside her that would never be filled.

She had a ready-made family waiting for her in Philadelphia. All she had to do was accept Victor’s marriage proposal. Victor’s wife had died five years ago, leaving an eleven-and a fourteen-year-old who needed a mother in their lives. But Victor was a friend, a very dear friend. She didn’t have passionate feelings for him. Hadn’t even gone to bed with him. She’d told him how she felt, and he’d said those emotions would come later. She didn’t believe that.

Soon she’d have to go home and face Victor and her future. But for now her life was here on High Five. Maybe she was in denial. Maybe she was hiding. Or maybe she believed in miracles and love.

She went to sleep with that thought.

The next morning she dressed in jeans, a pearl-snap shirt and boots, her customary garb. Oh, yes, she was a cowgirl now and she was getting damn good at it.

She hurried to Gran’s room as she did every morning. Gran was up and winding her white hair into its usual knot at her nape.

“Good morning, my baby.” Gran smiled at her.

Maddie sat on the stool beside her in front of the mirror. Gran called her three granddaughters “baby.” At thirty-one, Maddie was past being a baby, but it was useless to mention that to Gran.

“Caitlyn’s coming to pick me up. I’m going to Southern Cross for a visit,” Gran told her, patting her hair.

Maddie lifted an eyebrow. “So the honeymooners are having company?”

Gran slipped on her comfortable shoes. “I’m not company. I’m the grandmother. Besides, we were all at Southern Cross for Thanksgiving.”

“Everyone but Sky.” Maddie worried about her baby sister and wished Sky would just come home.

“Sky has a mind of her own.”

“Mmm.” Maddie linked her arm through the older woman’s. “Let’s go down for breakfast.”

“Yes, my baby. It’s the first day of December and we have to start thinking about the upcoming holiday.”

Maddie would rather not. But soon she’d have to tell her mother that once again she wouldn’t be in Philly for Christmas.

The scent of homemade biscuits met them in the hallway. “Oh, my, isn’t that wonderful?”

“Makes my mouth water,” Gran replied.

Etta pulled a pan of biscuits out of the oven as they entered the kitchen. “Good morning, lazy bugs.”

Maddie glanced at the clock. It was barely seven, but she saw the dirty plates on the table. Cooper and Rufus had already eaten and gone.

Grabbing a biscuit, she juggled it to the table. It was hot, hot, hot. She opened it on a napkin and dribbled honey over it. Picking it up, she headed for the door. She had to catch up with Cooper and Rufus.

She took a bite of the biscuit and stopped in the doorway. First, she had something else to do.

“I need to make a phone call,” she said to Gran and Etta.

On the way to her study, she finished off the biscuit. Damn, she’d forgotten her coffee. Where was her brain? In Worryville.

She licked her fingers and punched out the number Cait had given her yesterday. Walker’s number. He answered on the first ring.

“This is Madison Belle,” she said quickly.

“Ms. Belle.” His deep, strong voice came through loud and clear. “Is there a problem?”

She curled her sticky fingers around the receiver. “No. I was just wondering how the kids are?”

“Mine are fine. Haley’s getting ready for school and Georgie’s eating breakfast. Anything else?”

Yes. Lose the attitude.

“And Ginny?” she asked without even pausing.

The silence on the other end was loaded with four-letter words, and they weren’t nice.

She waited, licking her fingers.

After a moment he replied, “Ginny is fine, too. I had a talk with her father about what was going to happen to him if he hits her again. I checked on her last night and the family was fine.”

“That was so sweet of you.”

“I’m not sweet, Ms. Belle,” he shot back in a voice tighter than a rusted padlock.

“But your gesture was,” she reminded him just because it annoyed him so much.

“Anything else, Ms. Belle?” The way he said Ms. Belle was beginning to irritate the crap out of her.

“You might try working some of that ‘sweet’ into your attitude.” The words were out before she could stop them. Not that she tried very hard.

“And you might try minding your own business.”

“Ginny needs someone to help her, and I’m beginning to think that Haley might, too.” After saying that, she slammed down the phone.

She reached up to see if steam was gushing out of her ears. She was so angry. How could he be so…so ungrateful? And stern. And rigid. And infuriating.

Blood pumped through her veins with renewed fervor. She hadn’t felt this angry in a very long time. She took a long breath and blew it out her mouth. Mr. Attitude hadn’t heard the last of her.