Kids on the Doorstep / Cop on Loan: Kids on the Doorstep / Cop on Loan

Chapter Two

THE FOLLOWING MORNING just as he always did, John rose at 5:30 a.m. to start the day and for a split second, as he set the coffee to percolating and stoked the coals in the fireplace to a fresh blaze with kindling and a small piece of seasoned oak, he almost forgot that he wasn’t alone. But when a person had been a bachelor as long as John there were some things that didn’t slip your notice. Such as the prickling feeling at the back of your neck when you know someone is behind you, staring. He turned and found Taylor standing in the archway, scratching her leg with her toe, her eyes fixed on him.

“Go back to bed. It’s too early.”

“You’re up.” She pointed out as she scrubbed at her pixie nose with her palm, her gaze wide and expectant.

“I’m a grown-up. You’re still a kid—” practically still in diapers “—and kids need their rest. Don’t you want to grow up big and strong?”

She thought about it for a second before nodding but then said, “But I can’t rest if I’m not sleepy. Can you, Mr. John?”

Not really. He didn’t much see the point in lounging in bed if he wasn’t tired, either. But if he didn’t send her back to bed with her sisters, he’d have to find something to entertain her with and he didn’t have a clue as to how to entertain a five-year-old little girl. He eyed her speculatively. “You hungry?”

She nodded eagerly. “Are we having more of them beans?” she chirped as she followed him into the kitchen. “They were real good. You’re a good cooker, Mr. John.”

“I don’t know about that, and stop calling me Mr. John. Just John, okay?”

“Okay,” Taylor agreed easily, plopping into the chair she’d taken last night. “What’s for breakfast, then?”

“Oatmeal.” He caught her expression falter and he added quickly, “Or eggs. Take your pick.”

“Eggs, please. I like them all mixed up. Do you like them that way? Chloe doesn’t like eggs so maybe she could have the oatmeal. But me and Lexie like eggs a lot. Chloe didn’t like the way Daddy made his eggs, she said they tasted funny. I didn’t think so but sometimes he made her a special kind. Maybe she didn’t like just his special eggs because when Lexie made eggs she ate ’em right up. Do you make them special, Mr. John?”

The dizzying speed of the child’s twisting and nearly nonsensical dialogue almost had John staring in confusion as he tried to decipher even a quarter of what she’d said but something in that monologue had struck a chord of alarm. “Special eggs, Taylor?”

“Yeah, sometimes he made Chloe her own eggs but—” Taylor’s little face scrunched in distaste “—they always made her tummy hurt afterward. Maybe Daddy wasn’t a very good cooker.”

“Maybe not,” John murmured, though he was starting to feel a little sick to his stomach himself. “How come your Daddy always made Chloe her own special eggs?”

Taylor shrugged. “I dunno. But Daddy yells at Chloe a lot.”

“Why’s that?”

“He just does.” Taylor’s expression dimmed with sadness and John felt something in his chest pull. Her voice dropped to a scared whisper. “She gets lots of spankings.”

Chloe was hardly more than a baby. No one should be raising a hand to her little body.

John stiffened at the anger pouring through his veins at what he was hearing and moved to the fridge to grab the eggs. He’d heard enough and by the time he filled the sheriff’s ear with what he’d learned, there was no way in hell those kids were going back to that son of a bitch. He offered a smile to the little tyke even though he was itching to put his fist through the wall, and went through the motions of cooking up a batch of mixed-up eggs that weren’t special in any way.

GLADYS DIDN’T LOOK VERY GOOD, John thought as he brought her a cup of coffee.

“You sure you don’t want to go see that doc of yours?” he asked.

She waved away his concern. “I’m fine. Just a little winded is all from the excitement last night. I just don’t know what to do about those poor babies. I don’t even know if they’ve been in school or what kind of lives they’ve been living. I’m just beside myself.”

“What about the mother? Do you know where she might be? Maybe I could place a few calls.”

Gladys made a look of distaste. “Oh, don’t waste your time with that one. I only met her once but she never made much of an impression. A little snooty and standoffish if you ask me and we never really hit it off. Not that I was close with Jason, mind you, but at least he was family. I’ve known him since he was a boy. Never had much of a character. Nothing like you and Evan. If you boys had been anything like Jason your mama would’ve lost the ranch the moment the tax man had started calling. No…I knew from the time he was a young man he wasn’t going to amount to much but I’d hoped I was wrong. There’s no satisfaction in being right in this instance.”

“So you think the mother just took off or something like Jason did?”

Gladys sighed. “I don’t know but what kind of mother would leave her babies behind? I can only imagine,” she said, her voice catching as the ghost of an old pain reappeared.

John agreed privately but allowed the quiet to dull the edge of Gladys’s long-ago loss. Even after all this time Gladys felt the agony of her stillborn son. He supposed that was a hurt that never truly healed. Not even with decades of time as a balm.

“So what do we do?”

Gladys looked at him sharply then sighed. “We? Oh, Johnny, this isn’t your problem. I’ll figure something out.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “You’re in no shape to be tending to three little kids. And frankly, I don’t care what you say, I think you need to see your doctor. That surgery might’ve taken more out of you than you realize.”

Gladys was silent for a moment and John had a feeling she was wrestling with her pride, which was no small thing. She wasn’t accustomed to being dependent on someone else and it was probably killing her. But it was a temporary thing and she realized this, too, and finally nodded in agreement.

“You might be right,” she conceded with a sigh. “And I’ve been thinking about what you said about contacting the authorities. Maybe that’s the best thing to do. I don’t think Jason or Renee were doing a great job with these girls. Chloe is most definitely going to need an antibiotic for that cough and something tells me she’s been sick for a while. The poor baby has no color to speak of. They ought to have to work to get them back. Maybe it’ll teach them a lesson in being parents.”

“So you’re saying you’re okay with me calling the sheriff?”

“Yes, on one condition…the children stay together. They need each other.”

“I’ll make the call,” he said, moving to grab the phone. “And then I’m taking Chloe to the doctor.”

RENEE PULLED TO A STOP and took a cursory glance around the ranch that bordered Gladys’s property. She’d waited two agonizing days, but by 11 a.m. the third day Renee figured she ought to start poking around. If Gladys had gone on vacation, she might’ve left instructions with a neighbor to watch the house for her. Either way, Renee might get some kind of information that might be useful in finding Jason and the kids.

She was nearly to the door when a deep voice startled her.

“Didn’t you see the sign?”

Her heart jackhammering in her chest, she stammered a bit as she turned, her gaze catching the sign he was talking about. Trespassers Will Be Shot. No Exceptions. She swallowed and got straight to the point. “I’m sorry…I’m looking for Gladys Stemming but she doesn’t seem to be home and I wondered…”

“What do you want with Gladys?”

She frowned at his tone. “I’m Renee Dolling. Uh, well, she’s my aunt, by marriage, and I—” Why was she explaining herself to this man? Renee straightened. “Has she gone on a trip? If so, do you know when she’ll be back?”

“Dolling?” He repeated, a sudden shrewd light entering the hard stare coming at her from beneath a dusty and worn baseball cap. Little ducktails of dirty blond hair too long to be fashionable stuck out from under the hat as if to clearly state he had no time for such niceties as regular haircuts. And his sun-darkened face had a boyish charm that was completely at odds with the stern expression pinching his mouth as he said again, “Did you say your name was Dolling?”

“Yes…do I know you?”

“Name’s John Murphy and, no, we’ve never met, but you’ve sure got some explaining to do.”

“Excuse me?”

“Three days ago your husband dumped your kids with a sixty-seven-year-old woman and took off without so much as a ‘see you later’ and she’d just had surgery for a triple bypass but you wouldn’t know that now, would you, because you dumped your kids before he did.”

“He’s not my husband,” she muttered yet felt heat blooming in her cheeks at his words. At least he wouldn’t be in a few months. The divorce wasn’t quite final in the eyes of the courts but as far as she was concerned Jason could take a long walk off a short pier after the hell he’d put her through. Selfish bastard. Wait a minute…“Did you just say my husband dropped the girls off with Gladys?”

“I did.”

A relieved smile broke through her annoyance at being interrogated and she exhaled loudly. “Oh, thank God. Where is she? I’ve been looking for the girls for months and I’ve been worried sick.”

Her relief was short-lived as the man continued to openly assess her, as if he were weighing something heavy in his mind, and unease fluttered in her stomach. “Is there a problem?” she asked stiffly.

“I’d say so.”

“Which is?”

“You don’t have custody any longer.”

Renee’s knees nearly snapped out from under her as she sucked in a pained gasp. “What?”

“Yesterday afternoon your girls were placed in the protective custody of their aunt Gladys as a temporary measure until things can be sorted out. No mother, no father…Gladys was their closest relative. Simple as that.”

“Well, I’m back so that won’t be necessary, now will it?”

“Doesn’t work that way. Courts are involved. Convince them you’ve decided to be a mom again and then we’ll see. But, can’t say that will be easy. Seems the courts around here don’t take lightly to parents abandoning their kids.”

She bristled at the thinly veiled disgust behind his seemingly mild statement and allowed the building anger to hold the panic at bay.

He didn’t have the right to judge her. No one did. “Not that it’s any of your business but my reasons for leaving my children with their father are my own. I didn’t know he was going to do what he did. Just point me in the direction of my children and we’ll get out of your life.”

“I already told you I can’t do that.” He shifted lazily against the fence he was leaning against, the slow action belying the fierce set of his jaw.

“What?”

“You heard me. The girls are in Gladys’s custody. If you want your kids, you’re going to have to talk to the court.”

“This is ridiculous,” Renee said, her voice hitting a shrill note. “What the hell is going on here? Are you telling me that you’re keeping my girls from me? You’re stealing my children?” Her voice rose to a hysterical pitch on that last question while her heart beat so hard it felt as if it might burst right out of her chest. This wasn’t happening. This had to be a bad dream. A horrific, horrible dream. Total strangers didn’t just get to keep other people’s kids. It just didn’t happen.

“No. The way I see it, three little girls were abandoned by their no-account parents and the law stepped in to protect them. If that’s not the way you see it, then you need to prove otherwise to the judge. Until then, get off my property.”

Chapter Three

JOHN WATCHED AS THE BLONDE marched over to her car. She shot him one last burning look filled with animosity but he didn’t care. Something Taylor had said was still sticking in his mind in a terrible way. Was it possible that their father had put something bad into the baby’s eggs? And if so, did the mom know about it? He watched as the woman, Renee, climbed into her car and slammed the door. No doubt she was wishing his head were caught between the door and the chassis. She sat in her car glaring at him, clearly debating her next move.

The front door opened and Gladys appeared with the children flocked around her, each bundled in an odd assortment of secondhand clothes that looked old enough to earn a spot in a museum somewhere, and John knew that any chance of a peaceful resolution was over.

“Lexie?” The woman had jumped from the car and was now running toward the girls until John blocked her path with a warning that she didn’t heed. “Get out of my way,” she said in a low growl. “Those are my girls and you’re not going to stop me from at least seeing them!”

John turned to Gladys, who was watching the scene with alarm, and instructed the older woman to go back inside with the kids.

“Those are my kids! You can’t keep me from them. I have a right to see them. Let me go or you and I will have major problems that go way beyond your manners and rude disposition. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you just fine. Now you listen to me. I don’t know you from Adam but I do know you’re not going anywhere near those girls until we get things sorted out. They’ve been through plenty without you traipsing into their lives acting like you’re here to pick up lost luggage after a long plane ride.”

She paled and her bottom lip actually trembled slightly but John wasn’t swayed. Where had she been when her girls were going without food? When Chloe got sick and had no one to take her to the doctor? Those little girls needed someone to champion them and right now, he was it.

“You don’t know anything about my life.”

“About that you’re right and, woman, I don’t care to know. You walked out on your kids. Their daddy walked out on them. I didn’t ask for this but it landed in my lap just the same and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let those girls go to the first ditzy broad who comes my way saying she wants her babies back.” She gasped and he gave her arm a little shove as he released her. “Now, the best thing you can do right this minute is to get off my property before I have you arrested for trespassing.”

Tears welled in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. Rubbing at her arm where he’d kept a firm grip, she sent him a scathing look and promised to return with the authorities.

“You can’t just keep someone’s kids like you would a stray puppy! They’re mine and you can’t—”

“Yack, yack, yack. You do what you feel is necessary. Until then, get lost.”

RENEE DROVE LIKE A CRAZY WOMAN straight to the Sheriff’s Department in Emmett’s Mill, part of her sobbing with elation that she’d finally found her girls and the other part railing at the asshole who had the audacity to keep them from her as if he had the right.

Coming to an abrupt stop in front of the police station, she pushed open the double doors and stalked inside. She approached the reception desk and banged on the little bell for service when the woman behind the desk was slow to open the sliding protective glass window.

“I need to talk to an officer right away,” she said to the dispatcher-receptionist, ignoring the woman’s look of annoyance. “A man is keeping my children from me and I need an officer to go out there and get them.”

“Excuse me? Come again? You say someone’s holding your kids?”

“Yes. A man named John Murphy—”

“That name sounds awful familiar…does he own the Murphy ranch out on the outskirts of town?”

“Yeah, I guess it was a ranch of some kind.” She vaguely remembered seeing a few horses and a dog. Renee let out a short breath as incredulity warred with extreme frustration at the woman’s failure to grasp that a serious crime was being committed. She seemed more interested in playing the Name Game, and Renee tried again. “Yeah, it was a ranch but I hardly think that’s relevant when I’m trying to tell you that this John Murphy has kidnapped my children. He has my kids and I want them right now. Can I speak with a deputy please?”

“Don’t get huffy.” The woman’s mouth pinched, causing little lines to crease her lips in a most unflattering way. “All the available deputies are out on a call. But if you leave a name and number—”

Renee slapped her hand down on the counter, making the woman jump and her hand flutter to her chest in alarm but Renee was past caring about making waves. She wanted her kids. “I will not. A crime is being committed and I want a goddamn officer. Do you hear me?”

The woman’s deep-set eyes narrowed and Renee knew she’d just crossed over to the place of No Return and she was pretty sure that place was also nicknamed Up Shit Creek Without a Paddle because moments later, those deputies that were previously unavailable came pouring out and Renee found herself in handcuffs.

“What are you doing?” Renee shrieked as the deputy led her to a small single cell in the rear of the building. “I come here for help and you’re arresting me?”

“Nancy pressed the panic button, which means you must’ve done something to cause her to panic. This is for everyone’s safety until we figure out what’s going on.”

A woman officer entered the room. “I got this Fred. You can go ahead and take that coffee break you were wanting earlier.” She waited for Deputy Do-Right Fred to leave and then she introduced herself. “I’m Sheriff Casey. Seems you’re making friends wherever you go. I got a call from John Murphy about a half hour before you showed up and started abusing my staff. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

Renee’s cheeks warmed at the cloaked rebuke and took a minute to calm herself before she answered. “My ex-husband, Jason Dolling, took off with our kids and I’ve been trying to find them for the past four months. I remembered that Jason had a great-aunt in the area and so I came looking for my girls here and found them at the neighbor’s house!”

“Are you sure they’re your kids?”

Renee stared at the woman. “Are you kidding me? Of course I know for sure. They’re my kids. That’s not something you forget.”

“According to John, you walked out on them. That true?”

“I left them with their father for personal reasons,” Renee said, fuming. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“I’m the one asking the questions. Why’d you leave them?”

“I told you. It was personal.”

“Yeah…it usually is.” The woman regarded her shrewdly and Renee felt her jaw tense. She got the distinct impression this small-town sheriff was judging her and there was nothing Renee hated more than to be put on display just so someone else could offer their opinion. The sheriff sighed. “Well, we’ve got ourselves a situation.”

“Yes, I agree. Some hillbilly horse rancher has my children and I require your assistance to retrieve them,” Renee said.

“That’s not exactly how I see it,” the sheriff admitted with a shake of her head.

“Oh? Is there any other way to see things? Perhaps you’d like to swab my cheek for DNA to make sure I’m their mother.”

The sarcasm in her voice did little to soften the sheriff toward her but Renee was losing patience with this whole ridiculous routine. And to think she’d thought the hardest part of this mess would’ve been to find Jason and the girls, not pick them up. Noting the narrowed stare and gathering frown on the sheriff’s face, she tried again. “Listen, I’m tired and I just want to get my girls. It seems there’s been a misunderstanding but no harm done. So if you’ll just provide a police escort, we’ll be out of your hair before you know it and everything can go back to the way things were before me and my girls ever stepped foot in this godfor—” she checked that part of her sentence “—uh, town.”

The sheriff smiled but Renee felt the chill before the woman started talking. “You never answered my question.” At Renee’s blank stare, the sheriff asked again, “Why’d you leave your kids behind with a man who, by the sounds of it, wasn’t fit to water a dog much less care for three babies?”

No one hated the truth of that answer more than her, but if she lied it would only make her look worse so Renee grit her teeth and admitted her greatest shame to a total stranger. “Because I was in rehab.”

“Rehab.”

In that one word, Renee heard a wealth of condemnation and she wanted to scream. She’d get no help from the sheriff. Fine. On to Plan B. Inside she was shaking with frustration but she kept her expression calm, knowing if she had any chance of getting her girls she had to first get the hell out of this jail cell.

The sheriff sighed. “Okay, here’s the deal. John told me Gladys Stemming has temporary guardianship for the time being so until you get in front of the judge and have that amended, the order stands and I can’t let you charge out there and take the kids. But seeing as you haven’t actually committed a crime I can’t keep you here so, if I let you out of this cell, you’re going to promise me that you’re not going to rattle any more cages with your screeching and hollering. That’s not how things are done around here, you hearing me?”

Renee swallowed and nodded though it killed her to agree to those terms, especially when her first instinct was to drive straight back to that ranch and take the girls and run. Fortunately, good sense prevailed and she rationalized that once she got in court—in front of someone normal instead of these small-town hillbilly types who made up the rules as they went along—she knew she’d get her girls back and they could leave this nightmare behind.

“I hear you. Loud and clear,” Renee answered. “I’m sorry for freaking out your receptionist. I was upset. I haven’t seen my girls in months and contrary to what you may think about me, I’ve been desperately searching for them since Jason took off,” she added, with a dose of humility that wasn’t entirely fake for she really hadn’t meant to frighten anyone.

“Um-hmm. Well, just see that you keep your nose clean until you can get to court. I don’t want to have to lock you up again.”

That makes two of us.

JOHN SAT ACROSS THE TABLE from Alexis and Taylor while Chloe helped Gladys bake cookies in the kitchen.

“Was that your mama?” he asked the girls. Both were wearing solemn expressions, though there was a hint of anger in Alexis’s. He sighed. “If that woman was your mama, she’s going to come back and if the courts decide she’s fit, you’re going to have to go with her. Don’t you want to see your mama?”

Taylor looked uncertain but as she slanted a quick glance at her older sister, who had remained stoic, she chose to keep her answer locked up tight. Though her silence didn’t last long.

“I want to stay with you, Mr. John,” Taylor blurted. “I like it here. It’s warm and you’re a good cooker and I don’t mind sharing a bed with my sisters because it’s soft and I don’t get woken up by bugs running across my toes. Please don’t make us leave, Mr. John.”

That last part—delivered with a child’s earnestness—hit him square in the chest. He didn’t want to give the kid false promises but he couldn’t imagine breaking her heart like everyone else in her short life had done. “There are rules when it comes to kids,” he started, hating that it wasn’t as simple as Taylor saw it. “If your mama isn’t fit then you have to go to a court appointed something-or-another. This is a temporary thing that we got going on right now.” Tears sprang to Taylor’s eyes and Alexis pulled her closer. Ah hell…rules were meant to be broken, weren’t they? “Listen, I’ll see what I can do but if you stay here, there are rules here, too. Chores, helping out. I run a working horse ranch and I don’t have time to be chasing after three little girls who aren’t prone to listening.” He gave Alexis a short look. “Am I clear?”

Taylor nodded. “Can I help with the horses?”

John exhaled loudly, feeling as if he’d just agreed to take on the world for three little strangers. “We’ll see. In the meantime, why don’t you go help Mrs. Stemming with those cookies. I need to talk with your sister.”