“Have you done this before?” Billy demanded with an incredulous look on his face.
“One of the kids I grew up with was Legless Larry, and before you get upset, he gave himself that stupid nickname,” Mack explained as he double checked the straps. “Larry was my roommate for six years, and he was born without his legs. He didn’t even have as much as you do, but boy, could Larry get around! The only time he ever needed help was getting into a saddle. Larry loved riding. He even competed in equestrian events and at rodeos.”
“Really?” Billy’s eyes were wide.
“Yeah. He even wanted to be a jockey and racehorses, but that didn’t work out?”
“Because of his legs?”
Mack snorted. “No, because his fiancée didn’t want him possibly falling off a horse and breaking his neck. Larry is kind of a wild man when he’s on horseback. No, Billy, Larry became a businessman. He makes and sells saddles like this one.”
“That’s... um, cool?”
Mack laughed. “Larry sure thinks so.” He paused and looked into the boy’s face. “Billy, I know life has dealt you a bad hand. I’ve been there. I know what it feels like, and I’ve seen how it’s affected other kids like you and me, but you can’t dwell on what’s bad about your life. You gotta look at what you do have and use it to build a better life for yourself. Billy, you don’t need legs to be good at things. There’s all kinds of fun to be had from the seat of that chair.”
“What? Like video games?”
Mack nodded over to one of the other horses, and Billy looked in that direction.
“Is that a rifle?” A note of excitement had crept into the boy’s voice.
“That’s the .22 that my dad first started teaching me how to shoot on. I figured while we were out, we could have us a little fun plinking.”
“Does Ms. Rosalee know?”
“What she don’t know can’t hurt us, right?”
Chapter Three
Bozeman, Montana
Sunday, April 21, 2019
GETTING TO CHURCH INVOLVED a convoy of half a dozen vehicles and a drive of nearly an hour one way up to Bozeman. The MacDuff-Monroe family traditionally made a full day out of going to church, which involved going out to eat and taking the kids to the movies while some of the adults did the necessary shopping for the week. The Sunday Convoy had grown by one vehicle this particular Easter Sunday: Mack and KC’s new 2020 Toyota 4Runner in Nautical Blue Metallic. KC hadn’t decided on a name yet. She’d immediately vetoed Mack’s suggestion of “Little Boy Blue 2” and any variations on that theme. The new SUV’s shade of blue was much darker than Little Boy Blue’s Blazing Blue Pearl, and that had KC thinking the new car needed a distinctive new name.
In the lead of the convoy was Silas and Rosalee in a 2009 Dodge Ram 2500 Mega Cab. The big white work truck had a spacious back seat that could hold three people, and the center console could fold up to seat a third person up front, typically one of the younger children. The next vehicle in line was a black 2013 Chevy Suburban 1500 owned by Rashmi and her husband Charles Christofferson. The second and third rows in the big SUV allowed them to bring along their four kids and two of the foster kids. In the middle of the convoy was a Ford Transit 350 passenger van driven by Ben. The white van was the newest vehicle belonging to the Double M ranch that wasn’t a work truck, and it was the single most useful vehicle in moving around the foster kids since it could carry fourteen passengers in addition to the driver. The fourth vehicle back was a maroon Honda Pilot that belonged to Mitch. The SUV had enough room for his own family and three more of the foster kids. Just behind Mitch’s Pilot was Ben’s wife, Marisol, driving a Ford Ranger. The two youngest members of the MacDuff-Monroe family, Anna and Dwayne, rode with her. Next to the last of the caravan was another Double M work truck, this one a GMC Sierra 3500 dually that carried Steve and his family of three. A couple of the foster kids rode with him, too. Mack and KC were, of course, bringing up the rear of the convoy with Liam and Pilar in their back seat.
A couple of churches were closer to the Double M than the Ecumenical Evangelical Fellowship, but one was a non-denominational chapel serving the tourists in Big Sky and the other was a Mormon church. The MacDuff-Monroe clan had nothing against Mormons, who were fine people and good neighbors, but, in general, the MacDuff-Monroes were Protestant Christians by tradition. The original MacDuff had been Scottish Presbyterian, and his wife had been a Southern Baptist. Meanwhile, the original Monroe had been an Anglican who’d converted to Lutheran, but his wife was a Methodist. The Ecumenical Evangelical Fellowship had turned out to be a good fit for the near schizophrenic nature of the MacDuff-Monroes’ denominational choices.
The Fellowship, as it was usually called, had started life as three different small churches that had been built in close proximity to one another: a Lutheran church, a Presbyterian church, and a Baptist church. Though relatively rare, a tornado had ravaged the town in the late 70s which had destroyed both the Lutheran and Presbyterian churches. The Lutheran church had been outright flattened by the twister, and the Presbyterian church had been consumed in a subsequent fire. The Baptists had opened their facility to the other two congregations to use until such time as they could find or build replacements.
In a strange turn of events, the three congregations wound up mixing, and the three pastors found that they had more in common theologically than they had differences. Pretty soon the three groups were having joint services, and the pastors were taking turns delivering the weekly sermons. Naturally, the three congregations decided to merge and become one whole, which was how the Ecumenical Evangelical Fellowship formed.
Technically, on paper, the Fellowship was a Baptist church, but everyone knew they were “multi-denominational” as opposed to “non-denominational.” The church still had three lead pastors who rotated preaching duties on a weekly basis, and Lutheran and Presbyterian traditions had been incorporated into the Fellowship’s charter and bylaws. The Fellowship had grown significantly over the years. It wasn’t what anybody would call a “mega church,” but it did have a large congregation of some four to five hundred members. The original Baptist church building had been replaced with a larger facility on the site of the original Lutheran and Presbyterian churches. The old Baptist sanctuary still existed and was used as a satellite campus for one of the Fellowship’s numerous outreach ministries.
The Double M Ranch’s group home and equestrian therapy center were two ministries officially supported and endorsed by the church. Likewise, Silas and Rosalee often opened the ranch to the church for social events, fundraisers, and youth summer camps. The Youth Minister joked that half of his youth group was made up of kids from the Double M, and the Children’s Minister agreed, though she set the percentage more accurately at a quarter.
Arriving at the church, the procession of Double M Ranch vehicles stopped to offload kids at the entrance to the Youth and Children’s Ministry wing before each driver went to find a parking space. In the case of the van, which carried most of the kids, Ben got to park it next to one of the church’s two minibuses. Mack didn’t bother joining the procession dropping off the kids. Instead, he followed Marisol’s Ranger and parked next to her.
Ben’s wife was a full-blooded Cree Indian, the daughter of a noted Cree medicine man. Marisol was a paranormal, too, just not a thrope like her husband’s family. Instead, she was a Mage with hints of Fae heritage. She was also a medical doctor, an internist by training but a general practitioner by practice. The other two passengers in her truck were Mack’s youngest adopted siblings.
Anna Monroe was in her mid-20s, fresh out of college, and enthusiastically ready to take on the world. She was a caseworker with the Child and Family Services Division of the Department of Health & Human Services, but due to a perception of conflict of interest, she didn’t handle any of the cases involving children given into her family’s care. She did, however, oversee cases that involved sheltering abused women and children, and she often hid these women
and children at the Double M.
Dwayne Monroe at 20 was the “baby” of the family. He was something of an oddity in an overwhelmingly “white” state since he was African American, but he fit in well with the rest of his adopted family in that he was a large, athletic man who also happened to be a werewolf. Currently, Dwayne was home on leave from the Army. Military service was a long-standing tradition in the MacDuff-Monroe clan. All of the boys in the family and one of the girls, Presley, had done at least a four-year stint in the Army or the Marines.
A moment later, Silas parked next to Mack, and Rashmi’s husband parked their Suburban in front of Marisol’s Ranger. Then, Mitch parked his Pilot three cars down, and Steve parked next to him. SUVs and work trucks appeared to be quite popular with the Fellowship’s congregation. The adult MacDuff-Monroes all took a moment to enjoy not having any children under foot. The Fellowship’s Youth and Children Ministry had made efforts to get their volunteers and staff trained to deal with special needs children like several of the ones from the Double M group home, which was a blessing to their caregivers.
Rashmi was looking particularly frazzled. The oldest adopted Monroe, like the youngest, was African American. At least, that was what she looked like. DNA tests were popular among the adopted Monroe kids, and Rashmi’s had shown that she was only 55% African American. One of her birth parents had been part Hindi, which probably explained her Indian name. The other parent was likely the source of her werewolf heritage, but that sort of thing didn’t show up in an Ancestry or 23 & Me DNA test.
Despite his incredibly White European name, Charles Christofferson was more purely African than his wife. Somewhere back in his ancestry, some Nordic father or slave owner had given his surname to a black family, but his own DNA test showed a whopping 89% African, mostly from East Africa, which did not help when Dwayne noticed that Charles bore a strong resemblance to the actor cast to portray the Black Panther in the Marvel movies. Additionally, Charles was a thrope, too, just not a lycanthrope. No, Charles was an ailuranthrope, a werecat, specifically a wereleopard with a black coat. Naturally, his brothers-in-law dubbed him “Prince T’Charlie, the Wakandan Ambassador to Montana.”
Rashmi and Charles both worked with the group home, helping Silas and Rosalee care for and raise large numbers of foster children. Rashmi had followed in Rosalee’s footsteps and became a licensed child therapist. Charles was a psychologist, too, which was how he and Rashmi had met. They’d gone to the same university and attended all the same classes together.
Steve and his wife, Lucy, joined the group. Lucy was a mundane like Bonnie, but unlike Bonnie, Lucy carried the werewolf gene from her own father, Cyrus MacDuff, Al’s younger brother, which made Lucy and Mack first cousins. Lucy may not have been a werewolf herself, but she was certainly built like one. The natural redhead was tall, athletic, and had a predatory stare that served her well in the classroom. Lucy was an elementary school teacher, and several of the younger foster kids were in her class.
The only adult member of the family who was missing was the Monroe’s youngest biological child, Presley. The young woman was the only other member of the family besides Mack to join the Marines. Instead of following Mack’s path into the infantry, Presley had gone the law enforcement route, which was the closest to a front-line combat assignment as most females could get. Presley had excelled in the job, too, parlaying her experience into a position with Gallatin County Sheriff’s Office. So, nobody was too surprised when she rolled up a moment later in her Sheriff’s Office pickup truck and parked next to Silas’s Ram.
“I’m not late!” Presley declared as she climbed out of her vehicle still in uniform.
“You could have dressed for church,” Rashmi tutted as she went to her sister.
“That would have made me late,” Presley explained. “I literally clocked out of my shift and drove straight here. In my defense this is a new uniform.”
“I’m glad you made it, honey. Easter would not be the same without you,” Rosalee assured her younger daughter. She turned around and looked at all her gathered family. “Okay, first, everyone who wants to, needs to get a move on before you miss Sunday School, er, Sunday Small Groups. Whatever. Second, I expect every single one of you to be either on the pew with me or on the pew behind or in front of me. I want my kids all around me, okay? That included you two, as well, Liam and Pilar.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Liam blushed.
“If anybody asks, just tell ‘em you're my unofficially adopted kids,” Rosalee added.
“It’s an honor to be an honorary family member,” Pilar declared with a grin.
The family then drifted toward the main entrance to the church.
The Fellowship, being a modern American church, had eschewed classic church design. Instead, they had been one of the early innovators in the use of prefabricated steel buildings. Just inside the entrance was a vast commons area that took the place of the traditional fellowship hall. Most of the current congregation could fit inside that room, which was how it had been designed. To one side were the three double doors that fed into the auditorium. Across from the auditorium was a single entrance to the Youth and Children Ministry wing. The only other entrance was on the far side where they had dropped the children off. The Fellowship was serious about the ongoing safety of the children in their care.
At the back of the commons was a huge kitchen and a coffee shop. Flanking the kitchen and coffee shop were the entrances to the church offices and the network of rooms that served the Small Group/Sunday School portion of the service. The coffee shop was one of the Fellowship’s most popular ministries. Whenever the church was open to the public, the coffee shop was, too. Not everyone who came to church felt comfortable going to Sunday study groups, and the Fellowship didn’t pressure anyone into feeling that they had to go. On the other hand, they were always looking for new ways to interest members and visitors into joining a small group.
The coffee shop mainly served people who either arrived too early for the main service or too late for Sunday School or who just didn’t feel comfortable tightly packed into a classroom with their peers. The coffee shop had a full-time staff of volunteers whose only purpose was to minister to the spiritual needs of their patrons. The shop was also a for-profit business. The coffee they served was not free, although it was inexpensive by comparison to Starbucks and even cheaper than Dunkin Donuts. During the regular business week, the Fellowship Coffee Shop had a regular storefront operation just up the street and another across from the college.
Presley headed straight for the coffee shop counter as soon as she walked in the door. Most of the rest of the family streamed toward the entrance closest to their Small Group’s classroom. Mack, KC, Liam, Pilar, and Dwayne were all that was left. Presley ordered six coffees and an equal number of pastries, which she brought over to the table that her siblings, in-laws, and new friends were gathering at.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Mack chided.
“First responders get a 50% discount,” Presley countered. “Besides, I get a regular paycheck at my job.” As she emphasized the regularity of her income, she nodded to Pilar. Upon learning that she’d just graduated recently with a Criminal Justice degree, Presley had been campaigning pretty hard to recruit Pilar to the Sheriff’s Department.
“Would you quit trying to steal Liam’s girlfriend,” Mack teased.
“Hey, I’ll take our brother Marine off your hands, too,” Presley laughed.
“Do you feel like a piece of meat up for auction, hon?” Liam asked Pilar.
“Why, yes! Yes, I do!”
“Kinda nice, ain’t it?”
“It is good to feel desired,” Pilar agreed.
“I already do all the Cassandra work for southwest Montana and part of Yellowstone. I mean, there are two other officers read in on the Cassandra Protocol, but they call me to handle it!” Presley complained. “I could use a partner or two to ease the workload.”
“You guys should consider it,�
� KC suggested.
“What about you guys?” Pilar demanded. “You said yourself that it was nice to have extra hands.”
“Yes, but what happened at Silver Dollar City was the exception, not the norm, and even if you take Presley’s offer, you can still ‘moonlight’ with us from time to time,” KC said.
“And we’d fix you guys up with someplace nice to live, too, ya know,” Presley added. “I’m sure I could convince Dad and Mom to let you guys have one of the old guest cabins or we could find you a place here in Bozeman.”
Pilar chewed her lower lip for a moment. “I do prefer living in a house or an apartment to living in a camper or a bus. No offense.”
“Some taken,” Mack teased.
“No, I kind of agree,” Liam sighed. “As much as I enjoy camping, I want to flush my toilet and be done with it. Not have to worry about composting or black water tanks or doing laundry in public.”
“But you meet such interesting people!” Mack exclaimed.
“I’m not a novelist, brother,” Liam retorted.
“Novelist?” Dwayne blurted. “Since when is Mack a novelist?”
Mack blushed slightly. “Uh, since before I got out of the Marine Corps.”
“So, why haven’t I seen your name on any books? ‘Hieronymus’ does kind of stick out.”
“Because I use a pseudonym.”
“What?”
“Pen name,” KC clarified. “Mack writes under a couple of different fake names. He’s actually gaining a lot of popularity for one of his series.”
“I just don’t like to talk about it because the genre is a little... um, embarrassing,” Mack stammered.
“He writes romance novels,” Pilar said bluntly, yet not loud enough to carry beyond the table. “Really good romance novels.”
The Weapon Bearer's Son Page 3