Читать книгу A Cowboy at Heart - Roz Fox Denny - Страница 9

JUST BEFORE RANDI found the light switch and spilled light into the dark kitchen, Jenny grabbed her. “I’m no cook, are you? What if Lincoln Parker hates what we fix?”

Miranda didn’t answer. “Eew…ew!” Pinching her nose closed, she surveyed a mountain of dirty pots, pans and dishes stacked haphazardly on every surface of an equally dirty stove, sink and counter. “Not only were those houseparents despicable,” she said in a nasal voice, “they were pigs.”

“Yeah, this is disgusting.” Jenny covered her nose and mouth with one hand.

“Jenny, go find Mr. Parker. Tell him we can’t do anything about starting supper until we’ve made a dent in cleaning up this mess. Warn him that some of these pans look so corroded they’ll have to be trashed. Beginning with this one.” She gingerly picked up a saucepan with moldy macaroni and cheese burned to the bottom and sides.

Jenny wasted no time hightailing it out of the smelly room.

Not caring how chilly it had grown outside, Miranda flung open what windows she could budge. She sucked in great gasps of fresh air and wondered how anyone could live this way.

She returned to the sink and began emptying it of unwashed dishes when she heard heavy footsteps coming closer, followed by a partially muffled, “Good Lord!”

Miranda couldn’t help laughing. “My sentiments exactly.”

“This kitchen’s a pigsty. No wonder your dog’s out by the door hiding his head. I thought the bedrooms were bad. They’re the Ritz compared to this.” Linc made a slow circuit of the room. “The boys are bagging rubble from the four bedrooms. God only knows what condition the sleeping bags are in. I unearthed them from a back closet.” Linc felt his burgeoning headache begin to pound in earnest.

“At least we have hot water,” Miranda said brightly. Steam rose from the sink she’d plugged, but her attempt to find dish soap in the cabinet below met with no luck. After searching several more places, she puffed out a breath. “I can’t find any soap. I guess they ran out. Maybe that’s why they stopped washing dishes.”

“A kitchen in a home for kids and no dishwasher? That’s idiotic. Shoot, heck and damn. The minute I set eyes on this unholy mess, I figured it’d be midnight or later before we could reach a point where cooking was possible. But without soap and disinfectant, I doubt it’ll happen at all.”

“So, we’ll, uh, tighten our belts again tonight.” Miranda knew her friends had hoped to have a decent meal. But it wouldn’t be the first night they’d gone to bed hungry. “At least we’ll be sleeping out of the cold. That’s something.”

Known in the world of finance for making quick decisions, Linc made one now. “Look, Randi—that is your name, right?” At her nod, he continued. “I don’t see that we have a choice but to load everyone in my Excursion and go in search of a restaurant. And if there’s a motel with vacancies anywhere in town, two rooms should do us, I think. Tomorrow, before we head back, I’ll buy supplies. I’d appreciate it if you’d make a list of what’s needed for this kitchen to be operational.”

“A shovel?” Her smile brought out a dimple in one cheek.

Once again Linc felt a tug that was almost physical. Frowning, he said, “Put a case of jumbo trash bags and a new set of cookware on the list.” He took a giant backward step toward the door. “While you work on that, I’ll round up the others. I’ll see if the little squirts have nightclothes and clean clothes for morning. If I ever saw kids in need of a good scrubbing, it’s them.”

As he turned to go out, Linc almost fell over the gum-chewing girl who’d purportedly been friends with his sister. Given the circumstances, it was all he could do to mutter a civil, “Excuse me.”

Jenny, who’d overheard part of his and Randi’s discussion, blocked Linc’s exit. “You really intend for us to eat at a restaurant and then go to a motel?”

“I see no other choice. Help put those pans in to soak, please. By tomorrow, steel wool might get some of them clean. Right after heat for the bunkhouses, I’m adding an industrial-size dishwasher to my list.”

Linc made a second attempt to leave the kitchen, but something in the way Randi studied him through narrowed eyes gave him pause. “If you’ve got a problem with my solution, spit it out. From what I saw of the towns I went through on the way here, they’re liable to be the type that roll up their sidewalks at nine o’clock.” To keep from reaching out and giving her arm a reassuring squeeze, he glanced at his watch.

“I think Jenny means money’s an issue,” Randi blurted. “We may be able to pool our pennies and buy burgers. But…well, we can’t begin to cover the cost of a motel.”

Miranda still had her diamond earrings, but since throwing in her lot with Jenny and the boys, she’d found no opportunity to visit a pawnshop. And she dared not risk the kinds of questions that would crop up if any of her new friends got a glimpse of the rocks she had sewn in the lining of her jacket.

“You think I’d expect you kids to pay?” Linc exploded. “Like any of this is your fault.” He swept an arm to encompass the mess. “It’s a damned good thing I’m not within reach of my buddy who negotiated for me on this place. All I can think is that John Montoya never set foot inside the house, or else he’s blind and missing his sense of smell.”

Linc wrung a low laugh from Randi. A husky sound that slid up his spine the way her voice did. Her voice made him think of a piano bar and mellow scotch.

Suddenly Linc found himself wondering why, if she hung out with Felicity’s starstruck groupies, some producer hadn’t seen her potential? True, her skin tone and unusual eye coloring were at odds with hacked-off, too-black hair. But a hairdresser and color could remedy that. It flitted through Linc’s mind that black wasn’t Randi’s natural shade. Probably a phase she was in. A few years back Felicity had dyed her rich brown curls a dull black, too. She’d also worn black lipstick and nail polish. She described the style as “goth” and refused to speak to him for weeks when he’d objected to her appearance.

Though he couldn’t say why, Linc was glad that Randi saw fit to leave her lips and nails bare. Of course, she and Jenny wore too many sets of earrings. And like his sister, Jenny sported tattoos. If Randi had any, they weren’t visible.

He didn’t even want to recall the argument he’d had with Felicity the evening he’d come home from a road trip and discovered her first tattoo. Had his failure to understand her need to look bizarre been the beginning of their estrangement? He erased that thought from his mind and returned to his evaluation of Randi. Why had she landed on his doorstep, instead of on her way to being a new soap or big-screen movie star?

Because she was short? About five-three. Otherwise she had that look producers liked. And she walked as if she owned the world. Linc would bet his bottom dollar that before Randi whatever-the-hell-her-last-name-was ended up living on the street, she’d known a better life, too.

“Are you changing your mind about going to town, Mr. Parker?”

Jerked back from his meandering thoughts, Linc all but snapped at Jenny. “No, I haven’t changed my mind. And, Randi, start writing that damned list, okay? Here, take my pen,” he said roughly, extending one he yanked from his shirt pocket. “Tear a piece of paper off one of the hundreds of grocery sacks piled around here. Jeez, add all this junk to what we found in the bedrooms and it’s a miracle the place didn’t burn down. Come to think of it, I want a lot of answers from Oasis.”

Miranda, who had no idea what she’d said or done to bring a return of Parker’s bad humor, immediately set about starting a list.

And this time Linc lost no time in stomping out.

He should’ve guessed Wolfie would be next to object to his proposal.

“Hana and me ain’t goin’ nowhere,” the boy declared flatly, not caring that the older kids were already moving toward the door.

“Mind telling me why?” Linc inquired mildly.

“’Cause you’ll make all nice, and then take off and leave us there. You think I’m stupid, mister?”

“Good grief. You have a wild imagination. I already explained that you’ll have a home here until I can get in touch with the area’s new social worker. Not only that, I intend to grill her about a system that leaves children living in squalor.”

“Yeah, I know that’s what you said. But you don’t want us. We’re—” the boy screwed up his face and hesitated “—we’re a comp…comp—something I heard the fat dude say.”

“Watch who you’re calling fat.” Shawn’s face erupted in fury as everyone swung toward him. “So shoot me for thinking the kid had left the room before I said those little farts were a complication for you, Parker. They are. I didn’t say anything that’s not true.” He thrust his jaw out pugnaciously.

“Are not…whatever you said!” Wolfie yelled, descending on Shawn with fists flying and teeth bared.

“Are, too,” Shawn shot back, holding the wiry boy off with a stiff arm.

“All right! Enough!” Flinging out his own hand, Linc hooked Wolfie around the waist and easily dangled the fist-swinging boy three feet off the ground. “Hold on there, pardner. Remember what I told you earlier about biting not being how men solve things?”

For a few seconds, Wolfie actually looked chastened. “You didn’t say nothin’ about kickin’ or hittin’.”

“I didn’t then, but I am now. And, Shawn, I don’t want any pissing contests going on, understand?” Linc leveled a stern glare at the older boy as he turned Wolfie loose. “Everyone, go climb into my SUV. You’ll have to keep quiet during the drive so that on the way to town, I can tell you my house rules.”

Shawn led the charge to the door. He stopped and said to Linc, “The kid calls me a fat dude again and I’ll kick his ass.”

Linc took a moment to study the unkempt overweight teen with a face full of zits. Cutting through the bluster, it wasn’t hard to see the unhappy boy underneath. “Look, Shawn. I know the kid’s abrasive, and you’re tired. We all have our hot buttons. I’m not planning to implement a lot of rules. But number one is respect. Respect for the other guy’s person and his space. The rules apply equally across the board. Anyone who can’t live with them can hit the road.”

Shawn nodded shortly and stalked out.

Linc eyed the next two boys getting ready to pass him. Eric and Greg. They hunched over their packs. Eric clutched a guitar case, while Greg carried a narrower case that obviously held a keyboard.

“No need to lug that stuff along. We’ll only be gone one night. And I’m locking the house.”

Greg leaned his keyboard up against the couch. Eric elbowed him sharply. “Me and the guys don’t go nowhere without the tools of our trade, man.”

“Tools of your trade?” Linc all but sneered. “Like you’re such frigging successes.”

Miranda sensed a fight in the making. And although it’d suit her if music was downplayed here at the retreat, she’d had her fill of bickering. In an effort to distract the participants, she tucked Scraps inside her partially buttoned jacket and stepped between the combatants. “Do you think they’ll mind if I have a dog in the motel?”

Linc’s eyes shifted away from the hostile kid with the awful dreadlocks. He wasn’t at all prepared to see that scruffy dog nestled against his young charge’s generous breasts. For a moment, his tongue tangled with his teeth. What came out sounded like a stutter.

Randi waited, not sure what Parker was trying to say.

“Hell, take the dog! Take everything,” he finally managed to spit out. Afraid he was in deep trouble when it came to playing houseparent to this particular group, Linc put some space between himself and Randi. He waved a hand toward the open door, through which the heavyset boy had already disappeared.

Linc disliked starting his new endeavor by losing control. Especially since turning a blind eye and deaf ear to Felicity’s behavior had been his big mistake. One he didn’t intend to repeat. But maybe after a meal and a good night’s sleep, he’d be on more certain footing.

Pocketing his house key, he made directly for the driver’s door of the Excursion. He veered off course when it appeared no one was helping Cassie. Linc lifted her out of her wheelchair and set her gently down in the middle row of seats, buckling her in. He folded her pathetically small chair, then went around and tucked it in the space behind the last row of seats. Wondering what had caused her condition, he slammed the door and returned to watch as the others climbed inside.

Earlier, when he’d convinced Wolfie to leave the bunkhouse, Linc had considered that his first small victory. But now, as Eric knocked into him with his guitar case, determined to sit in the very back of the big SUV, Linc tasted the bile of defeat. He foresaw his tussle with Eric as the first of many. After learning these kids were bent on becoming rock stars, the way his sister had, he could no longer stand the thought of listening to their music. John Montoya had intimated Linc was deluding himself to think he had a prayer of guiding kids like these away from the fickle field of music or acting into other less risky pursuits. Once again, Linc was afraid he’d been right.

After they were all seated in the SUV, Greg demanded a rundown of Linc’s rules. Eric dissented loudly at Linc’s order that they needed to buckle their seat belts or the Excursion wasn’t going anywhere.

“Wearing seat belts isn’t my rule.” Linc raised his voice over their grumbling. “It’s California state law. And while I’m in charge, we will obey the laws of the land.” He segued right into his vision for the group. “Being law-abiding citizens is in sync with my idea of rules to live by. I assume you’re all too young to drink alcohol and buy cigarettes. Weed and other drugs are against the law. Those head my list. It goes without saying that I expect everyone to pitch in with the chores. I’m not going to harp at you or mete out punishment. Shirkers will, however, get privileges taken away. That’s about the extent of my rules for the moment, especially since we already touched on respecting the personal privacy of your neighbors.”

Jenny let silence settle inside the vehicle before she spoke. “What kind of chores, Mr. Parker? I already told Randi I can’t cook.”

“Asking you girls to cook tonight was because of our unusual circumstances. I plan to hire a cook-housekeeper. In fact, I’ll look into it tomorrow.”

“What chores, then?” Shawn persisted.

Linc glanced into his rearview mirror. “I’ve ordered a tractor and all the attachments needed to plow enough acres to grow a vegetable garden, plus olives and walnuts, which I hope will help defray some of the operational costs. I plan to keep a few head of beef, mostly to teach responsibility. And chickens, for eggs. Don’t you agree a little honest labor ought to rid us all of our city pallor?” He shot them a smile via the mirror.

“We’re only staying here through the winter,” Shawn said, breaking off suddenly when someone—Eric, Linc saw—cut the heftier boy off with a solid jab to his solar plexus.

“I’m figuring kids will come and kids will go,” Linc said with a shrug, looking forward to the day this particular group would pull up stakes and leave. “I’ve arranged to have cattle feed delivered for the winter. The guy who sold me the farm implements was very helpful. He said there should be enough nice days before the snow hits to till the soil and plant the olives and walnuts.”

“How many acres?” Eric asked as if he’d taken an interest.

“Three hundred including where the buildings sit. I have a guide in my briefcase that shows how many acres need to go in sweet grass, how many in grain, walnuts and olives. The folks I consulted said ten acres of garden ought to feed the dozen or so mouths I’m licensed to take in.”

“You’re licensed?” Randi threw out casually.

“Certainly. Oasis transferred its permit to my name. The rep said the same state regulations apply to housing teenagers as little children.”

“Yeah, well if you’re relying on the folks who were in charge… It’s a wonder they weren’t shut down ages ago.”

Linc hadn’t noticed Randi’s Southern drawl so much before. Just now it was quite pronounced. “What brings you out West, Randi?” Linc cast a glance over his shoulder. “I have…er, had a client from North Carolina who sounds exactly like you. Is that where you’re from?”

Miranda cursed silently for drawing attention to herself. Because now the others appeared interested, too. “Don’t all Southern accents sound alike?”

“No,” Linc said. “I recognize when someone’s from Mississippi or Alabama as opposed to Texas or the Carolinas.”

“The day we met, Randi said she’d moved around a lot,” Jenny put in.

“I like how she sounds when she talks.” Cassie spoke up for the first time. “And I think she’s real pretty. Don’t you, Hana?”

The smallest child sucked her thumb and battled against falling asleep, tucked tight against her brother’s skinny side.

Miranda noted that tough as the kid, Wolfie, tried to act, he frequently combed comforting fingers through his little sister’s curls. Washed, Miranda thought Hana’s hair would probably be strawberry blond. The girl and her brother were both freckled redheads. She flashed the kids a warm smile.

Hana took her thumb out of her mouth and whispered to Cassie, “Yes, she’s pretty. She looks ’xactly like the Barbie doll Mrs. Tucker taked away from Cassie and frowed in the trash.”

Then, because the older boys chortled and poked fun at Miranda—calling her Barbie—Hana shrank against Wolfie, as if fearing the noisy teens might attack her.

“Stop,” Miranda ordered. “You guys are scaring Hana.”

“Yeah, dickheads, tone it down.” Jenny batted at the boys nearest her, defending her newest friend.

“Who’re you calling a dickhead, Jen?” Eric pouted. “The little kids had better toughen up. If name-calling is all they encounter in three outta five foster homes in this state, they’ll be lucky.”

Linc couldn’t resist commenting. “You’re not being fair in your assessment of our foster-care system, Eric,” he said.

The teen snorted. “That’s because there’s nothing fair about the system. Why do you think so many kids opt to go it alone on the streets?”

“I honestly have no idea. Care to enlighten me?”

“Man,” Shawn broke in, “it’s because most foster homes suck. Those people are in it strictly for the cash.”

“It’s words like most I take exception to,” Linc responded. “Instead of rushing to hang out in street packs, maybe kids ought to complain to someone in a position to make their homes better and safer.”

“Like, who would that be?” Jenny blazed, leaning forward.

“In the case of foster homes, it’d be the social worker in charge.”

The interior of the SUV filled with hoots. “Get real, dude. And don’t lecture us. You and Shawn’s dad are so like…twins,” Eric said. “You’re both so blind, you think tossing money at a kid or handing him over to somebody with a slew of letters after their name is an automatic cure. Felicity told us how you sent her to shrink after shrink. They’re about as far from the truth as this planet is from Mars.”

“Our grandmother sent Felicity to counselors, not me.”

Jenny sat forward in her seat. “She said you shelled out the bucks for everything, including her music lessons.”

“I was the only one in the household who was employed. Not that I owe you any explanations. Felicity should have listened to what the counselors said. If she had, maybe she’d still be alive.”

“Or maybe she would be if you’d listened to her, man,” Eric murmured just loud enough for everyone in the vehicle to hear.

A red haze interfered with Linc’s ability to see for a fraction of a second. Then, remembering he was dealing with kids who had a skewed perspective on life, he kept his mouth shut and promised himself he wouldn’t be drawn into pointless discussions like this in the future.

“Hey,” Greg called after they’d bounced and jounced in silence for a time, “can you turn on the radio or something?”

Linc pushed the start button on the CD unit and shoved in the disc he’d been listening to on the last phase of his journey to the ranch. Soon the dramatic sounds of an orchestra filled the vehicle’s interior.

Eric leaned as far forward as his seat belt would allow and shouted over the music, “What the hell kind of tune is that you’re playing, Parker?”

“That, young man, is Wagner.” He pronounced it with the German V. “It’s the overture to Tristan und Isolde.”

“Never heard of those dudes,” Eric muttered. “Are they on the charts?”

Miranda waited a heartbeat for Linc to explain. When he said nothing, she rattled off a brief description of the opera. “The opera depicts a beautiful but tragic love story set in medieval Ireland. Isolde nurses Knight Tristan back to health, only to discover he killed her fiancé in battle. To make matters worse, Tristan is sworn to deliver Isolde as a bride for his uncle. She mixes a potion to kill him, and he offers her his sword, instead. That’s when they discover they really love each other. So they kiss…. A lot happens in the next scenes. The king brands them traitors. A battle takes place where Tristan is badly wounded. Isolde believes if she can get to him, her magical powers will heal him. When they’re reunited, Tristan declares that, as a knight, he cannot bear to live as an outcast. He falls dead at her feet. She drinks her potion just as a courier arrives from the king ready to pardon her and Tristan. The last scene of the opera is her collapsing across his body. It’s difficult to describe quickly, but if you listen to the entire score, you can feel the scenes unfold. ‘Liebestod’ is probably my favorite piece.”

The other teens gaped at Miranda, as did Linc.

“Wow,” Jenny said, continuing to bite her nails. “That sounds so cool, Randi. I wouldn’t have believed it, but you can feel grief in the music. Except…I thought you told me you didn’t know much about music.”

Linc found himself straining to hear Randi’s reply. Something about her was out of step with her companions. And he doubted that opera was normal fare for street kids.

Miranda couldn’t deny the knowledge that had obviously caused the others to regard her suspiciously. She shrugged. “Funny how things can slip your mind. I totally forgot about picking up that community-college class. The prof who taught basic music appreciation was an opera buff. He took us to see Puccini’s La Boheme and Verdi’s Rigoletto and Aida. Oh, and Bizet’s Carmen.”

“You went to college, studied highbrow music and it slipped your mind?” Shawn roused himself from his slouched position in the far back seat.

“Intro to Music sounded like an easy class.” Miranda felt herself being drawn deeper and deeper into revealing bits of her past. Maybe she should just admit her age. But then what? “Gee, guys, why the grilling?”

“So you’re how old?” Linc asked offhandedly.

Miranda’s heart thumped hard and fast. “Old enough. I, uh, graduated from high school at sixteen.” And that was the truth. Still, she didn’t like the way Parker kept staring at her in his rearview mirror. It seemed the more she said, the farther she put her foot down her throat. Please, someone change the subject.

Eric did just that when the Excursion bounced off the last few feet of rutted lane and Parker swung onto the smoother highway. “Why turn east? Don’t you go west to get to town? That’s the direction we came in from.”

“According to the friend who scoped out the ranch for me, Susanville is really the closest town to the property. Because there’s national parkland in between, it’s not the most well-traveled stretch of road. But, John, my friend, is an avid outdoorsman. He said the streams and lakes are stocked with several kinds of trout. Do any of you fish?”

Wolfie perked up. “I ain’t never fished with anything but a skinned tree branch with a string and a safety pin. The houseparents before the Tuckers used to let me fish our creek. But Mrs. Tucker said she wouldn’t eat no fish from where us kids took baths. And Mr. Tucker, he said fishing was a waste of time. He only wanted me to chop wood for their fireplace.”

The more Linc heard about George and Lydia Tucker, the angrier he became. What kind of man sent a boy Wolfgang’s age to tackle a dangerous job?

He mustered a smile he didn’t feel. “Fishing season here runs from Memorial Day to December thirty-first. Since it’s early November, we might find time to fish, even with the work I want to accomplish. It’s something I’ve always wanted to try, but never had the opportunity. If you’re our resident expert, Wolfie, I’ll buy rods and you can teach the boys and me how to catch trout.”

“What’s resident…whatever you said?” the boy asked, puckering his brows.

Jenny heaved a sigh. “Man, are you dense. Resident expert means you’re the best person to demonstrate a skill. Fishing, duh! What I want to know is why only the boys get to go. Why not Randi and me, too?”

“If you girls want to slog through underbrush for hours on end, I’ve got no objection.”

“But you’re gonna make ’em put their own worms or bugs on their hooks, ain’t you, Mr. Parker?” This gleeful addendum from Wolfie was the most animated he’d been. His smile showed two teeth in different stages of coming in.

Jenny recoiled at the very mention of baiting a hook. Miranda said nothing at first. She’d learned her lesson about jumping in too fast. You could give away too much that way. From here on, she’d weigh everything she said. “My dad liked to fish.” It was true. “He took me a time or two when I was Cassie’s age.” Also true. “You’re about eight, aren’t you, Cassie?”

“Seven, I think.”

“You think?” Greg scoffed from behind the girl. “Don’t you know?”

The child blinked owlishly, and large tears welled up behind her smudged lenses. Miranda reached out and clasped the child’s hand. “It’s okay, Cassie. Mr. Parker can find out. There must be school and health records on each of you back at the house. Do you know why you can’t walk?” Miranda asked softly.

The girl nodded. “Because my spine’s twisted at the bottom.”

Wolfie cleared his throat. “We heard Mrs. Rankin, one of the house moms, say Cassie’s mama had a boyfriend who threw Cassie down the basement steps.”

Jenny sucked in her breath. And Scraps emitted what could pass for a sympathetic growl. Miranda merely tightened her grip on the child’s fingers. “But, honey, you probably don’t remember the details of the accident.”

“I do sorta,” Cassie said solemnly. “I remember being cold for a long time. And I remember some policemen took Joey and Mama away. Then I was in the hospital for a lot of days and nights. I’ve lived a lotta places since. Nobody ever wants me to stay, ’cause it’s hard having a kid around who can’t walk.”

A heavy silence descended on the vehicle. Miranda stroked the girl’s small hand as her gaze met Linc’s in the mirror. She could only guess that her horror matched the sick expression she saw in his eyes.

“Look,” Eric announced, a catch evident in his voice, as well. “We’re coming to some lights. That must be the town up ahead.”

Gladly latching on to a chance to avoid what he read as censure in Randi’s cool gaze, Linc switched his attention to the glow Eric pointed out.

“Get outta here,” Shawn said. “If that’s the town, I’d say we’re in deep shit when it comes to finding a motel. Looks like nothin’s goin’ on here.”

“Please watch your language, Shawn.” Miranda cast her eyes toward the younger members of their group.

“Come on, kids.” Linc injected a cheery note in his voice. “Susanville is the county seat. Montoya said it’s a hub for serious hikers, sport fishermen and mountain bikers. There have to be motels to accommodate those groups. And it’s not so late that there won’t be a choice of restaurants still open.” Even as he spoke, they passed a well-lit café.

The kids all clamored for him to stop, but Linc drove on. “I think we should book a motel before we eat. Let’s get our sleeping arrangements nailed down, and then we’ll worry about filling our bellies.”

There was a lot of grumbling, but in the end the kids capitulated.

At the first motel with a vacancy sign, Linc swung in. He told everyone to stay put, but no one listened and they all got out and trooped into the office behind him.

The clerk took one look at the kids and immediately informed Linc she couldn’t accommodate his party.

“That’s odd. I only saw three cars in your parking lot. And you have two floors of rooms,” he said, smiling as he leaned an elbow on the counter.

“Uh…it’s the dog. We don’t allow pets,” the woman said, almost happily trumping Linc’s ace.

He recognized her shallow ploy for what it was, and while he wouldn’t stay here now if it was the last motel in town, he didn’t intend to go without leaving her something to think about. “That’s too bad for your establishment. This dog is a movie star. We’ve had a long drive today—up from Hollywood, haven’t we, kids? I told my cast this looked like a perfect spot to film.” Turning, he motioned them out. “That’s okay. We’ll take our money down the road.”

Even though the woman sputtered behind him, Linc steadily moved everyone outside. As they reloaded the SUV, silence reigned. Then Eric crowed, “That was sweet, man, how you made her look at us with respect.”

“Let that be a lesson, Eric. All people are worthy of respect. Note that I wasn’t disrespectful to the clerk. The choice was hers. And she’s entitled to her beliefs no matter how much I disagree with her.”

“But you flat-out lied,” Miranda said. “Scraps isn’t a movie star. And we don’t even know that he won’t mess in a room. I mean, we’ll have to leave him in there with a bowl of water while we go eat.”

“I bent the truth. Jenny said you found him near Burbank. You don’t know that he hasn’t been in films. And he won’t mess up the room if you walk him before we go eat and again before you turn in.”

The kids mulled over Linc’s words as he drove down the main street to another motel. This time when he asked them to stay put while he booked rooms, no one objected. They gave high fives all around, however, when he came back a few minutes later wagging three keys. “And Scraps is legally in.”

“I thought you said two rooms earlier,” Miranda said.

“Yes, but I have to make some phone calls. I booked a single for me and two doubles. Splitting up the boys and girls means everybody has more space.”

“Uh, that’ll be great.” Miranda capitulated fast enough. “It means an extra shower. I could almost skip eating to enjoy a hot shower. How about you, Jenny?”

Before she could answer, Linc interrupted, “Do you girls mind bathing Cassie and Hana tonight?”

“They’ll be glad to.” Shawn readily volunteered them. “Now can we please go find a burger joint? I’m starved.”

With moods greatly improved, they all laughed.

“I’m three steps ahead of you, Shawn.” Linc handed out the room keys and then went to unload the packs. “I told the clerk I had eight hungry mouths to feed. Taking pity on me, she drew a map to the closest steak house.”

“Steak?” The older boys chattered excitedly among themselves as they dropped stuff in their rooms and Miranda prepared to leave the dog.

Linc had never gone hungry in his life. And this one night, steak was the least he could offer pathetic kids whose stories had shaken him more than he cared to admit.