Her Lone Cowboy

by Patricia Forsythe

  She finally stepped out of the Jeep and walked toward her back porch only to be brought up short when a figure rose out of the darkness. With a squeak of alarm, she stumbled back.

  “It’s me, Laney,” Caleb said, stepping forward. “Don’t be scared. Sorry, but I didn’t think to leave the porch light on when I locked up this morning.”

  Laney pressed a hand to her pounding heart. “What are you doing here?”

  “I want to talk to you.”

  “No.” She skirted around him and darted up the steps. Fumbling with her key, she got the door unlocked then reached inside and hit the light switch.

  “I want to know what’s happening with Sam.”

  “Same as what happened this morning!” she snapped. “He’s been taken away from me and I’m not sure when or if I’ll get him back.”

  “It can’t be that bad, Laney.” Without hesitation, Caleb followed her into the kitchen.

  “Oh, how do I know that since I don’t know what you told Monette?”

  Caleb’s lips pulled together in a hard line. “There’s nothing I can do about that because I don’t remember exactly what I said. But I never would have purposely made you look like a bad mother. You’re obviously a wonderful mother.”

  She shot him a swift, angry glance, wrapped her arms around her waist and walked into the living room. Caleb paced along right behind her, turning on lights as he entered. She didn’t like that. She would have preferred staying in darkness. Walking across the room, she stared out the window.

  Caleb was quiet for several seconds before he asked, “Why do you doubt that, Laney? You do what’s best for Sam. You’ve always had your family to help you, to show you how to be a good mother...”

  “Not always.”

  “What do you mean?” He stepped closer. She could feel his warmth at her back, but she refused to lean into it, to depend on him.

  “My birth mother didn’t simply drop me off with Vivian and Frank when I was seven. I bounced in and out of foster homes all around Phoenix until then, never knew what was going to happen, if we’d have food, or an apartment, or even a car to sleep in. I think the foster families must have been nice to me, but I don’t really remember. I only remember being little and scared and confused.”

  “But you’re not like your mother. Sam is—”

  “Gone. Taken away.”

  Caleb tried to reach for her but she jerked out of his grasp.

  He inhaled a ragged breath. “You can’t let the past rule your life, Laney.”

  “Oh, really?” Her chin jutted out as she fixed him with an angry glare. “You’re a fine one to talk about not letting the past rule your life. You can’t even forgive yourself for what happened to Berman, and that little boy and his mother in Afghanistan. How can you lecture me about it?”

  Caleb jerked back as if she’d slapped him. His face paled, causing his scars to stand out in stark relief.

  Stricken, she took a step toward him. “Oh, Caleb. I’m—”

  “Stop,” he said, holding up both hands, palms out. His eyes were stormy and his jaw worked for a second before he said, “You have to deal with this yourself. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” He turned toward the door. “I’m going home.”

  He strode out, closing the door firmly behind him.

  Panicked, Laney darted after him. She had to find out what he’d said to Monette, at least try to make him remember. But when she threw the door open, he was already through the gate, stomping across his pasture. He wouldn’t talk to her now.

  Laney closed the door and sank into a kitchen chair, dropping her face into her hands. She had tried so hard to do everything right, to make up for the fiasco of her marriage to James, to be the kind of mother Vivian was, not like her own birth mother. She hadn’t been able to do it, though. And she hadn’t been able to keep the man she loved.

  * * *

  ROBERT FERNANDEZ ARRANGED a meeting for late the next morning. Laney’s family showed up in force to support her, but had to wait in the lobby of the DCS office.

  Laney had dressed carefully in a modest skirt and blouse to look as polished and pulled-together as possible—even though she felt like broken glass on the inside.

  When she and Robert entered the room, she took in the solemn faces of the people seated at the table. One man had a laptop computer open on the table, hands poised, obviously ready to take notes on the proceedings. Laney didn’t recognize him so she knew he probably didn’t live in Sweetsilver, only worked there. He stood to shake her hand.

  “Hello, I’m Juan Flores. I’ll be recording everything we discuss today and you’ll receive a complete transcript.”

  The woman beside him smiled warmly. “I’m Susan Martinez. I’ve lived here for many years, but I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m the head of this office of the Department of Child Safety and my job is to ensure your son’s safety and well-being, which I know is what we all want.”

  “Of course,” Laney agreed. She turned to the third person in the room and was startled to realize that it was Monette Berkley—but an upgraded version. Her hair was pulled back into a neat bun, she was dressed in a charcoal-gray suit that looked new, and she was even wearing makeup. When she looked at Laney and Robert and gifted them with a regal nod, it was all Laney could do not to lunge across the table and throttle her.

  Robert must have felt Laney’s anger because he immediately took charge of the meeting. “We are here to clear this matter up. Since my practice deals in family law, I’m well aware of the new rules governing the Department of Child Safety.” He nodded toward his briefcase. “In fact, I’ve got a copy of the manual with me.”

  “We’re glad you’re so well informed,” Monette said, her eyes steady.

  Laney stared, taken aback by the change in the woman. She was acting like a normal person, none of the crazy-eyed insistence of Laney’s neglect that was her usual routine. Laney pressed her palms together nervously, unsure what to make of this.

  Robert ignored the case worker’s interruption and continued. “The only reason for the type of removal that occurred yesterday is if the child is in severe and imminent danger—”

  “We thought it was best,” Monette interjected, “to remove him when he was already out of the care of his mother, who has showed herself to be neglectful of his welfare.”

  Laney smacked her hands on the tabletop and half rose from her chair. “I have never neglected my son!”

  Robert placed a calming hand on her arm while Susan Martinez shot Monette a sideways glance and said, “What Miss Berkley means is that recent occurrences at your home, Ms. Reynolds, placed Sam in situations of grave physical danger.”

  Before Laney could utter any of the furious words she was contemplating, Robert very calmly said, “Let’s see your proof.”

  “Gladly. You certainly have the right to see it.” Susan nodded at Monette. “Go ahead.”

  With crisp movements Monette removed a thick file folder from a box below the table and began.

  “Normally we receive notices from concerned members of the public regarding the welfare of children, but since we lived in the same apartment building, I was able to make firsthand observations of interactions between you and your son.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” Laney said tightly.

  Robert again touched her arm to calm her.

  Monette proceeded to read through a list of incidents, including the time Sam had nearly, according to her notes, fallen headfirst down the stairs on his riding toy. She mentioned a couple of other things that Laney thought sounded very minor like the time Sam cut his knee when he fell on the landing. Laney hadn’t been holding his hand that time, either.

  Then Monette looked up and Laney saw a flash of the familiar intense purpose the social worker had always showed her. “Matters became muc
h more grave,” the social worker went on, “when Ms. Reynolds and her son moved from town to an area where their activities were much harder to observe.”

  “Not that you let it stop you,” Laney pointed out.

  This time Robert shushed her and she sat back, fuming, to listen.

  Monette glanced up and pursed her lips in the rigid line Laney knew so well. “I had an obligation as a concerned citizen to look out for Sean.”

  Susan looked over at her. “Sean?”

  “Excuse me. I mean Sam.” She rattled a fistful of papers. “And here is the evidence I collected.” Hurriedly, Monette began listing what she considered dangers to the little boy—the mountain lion, the wild horses, the times when Sam had been too close to these dangers.

  “My client can hardly be held responsible for the appearance of a mountain lion in the vicinity of her home,” Robert said. “Or for the abused horses her neighbor takes in.”

  “It shows an inability or unwillingness to put her child’s safety first!” Monette’s voice was harsh and as she looked from Robert to Laney, her eyes glowing with fervor.

  Susan gave Monette a swift look and spoke in a soothing voice. “Let’s all keep calm. Remember, our goal is to keep Sam with his mother if at all possible.”

  “It won’t be possible,” Monette insisted, tapping her finger on the folder. “Other, more terrible things have happened as a result of Ms. Reynolds’s uncaring attitude.”

  “Uncaring!” Laney nearly choked.

  “What things?” Robert asked.

  Monette gripped the edge of the table and leaned forward intently. “The fact that she has let her boyfriend severely punish Sean, to the point where he raised welts on his back.”

  “My boyfriend! I haven’t got a boyfriend, much less one who would harm my son—whose name is Sam!” Laney knew that Caleb had never laid a hand on her son in anger or in harm—and he certainly wasn’t her boyfriend. She’d destroyed any possibility of that.

  Before Laney could say anything further, or Robert could demand an explanation, Susan and Juan surged to their feet.

  “Let’s take a break,” Susan said, her eyes on Monette’s fixed expression. “It’s time for lunch, anyway. We seem to be having some miscommunication, which I’m sure we can settle quite easily after a, um, some food. Shall we meet back here at one o’clock?”

  Grabbing Monette’s arm, she all but catapulted her out of her chair and out of the room. Juan Flores gave Laney and Robert an apologetic smile, picked up his laptop and hurried after the two women.

  “What in the world was that about?” Laney asked.

  “I don’t know.” Robert picked up his briefcase. “Why does she keep calling your son Sean?”

  “No idea. There is something seriously wrong with that woman.”

  “Yes, I can see that. Let’s hope it works to our advantage. Come on. Go get some lunch. I’ve got to go back to my office, so I’ll meet you back here at one.”

  Laney preceded Robert from the room and glanced around the office area. She didn’t know where Susan had taken Monette, but a low, intense voice could be heard coming from a room down the hall.

  Distressed, Laney found her family in the waiting area. Her parents and brother all jumped to their feet, wildly curious about what was going on and still desperately worried about the outcome of the meeting. Laney could think of no words to soothe them.

  * * *

  “MONETTE, WHAT IS the matter?” Susan asked, her eyes searching. “You seemed to be doing better. The file you showed me had everything in order. I trusted your professionalism and the accuracy you’ve shown in the past.”

  Monette shook her head, trying to clear the fog that seemed to have filled it. “Everything I said was true,” she murmured.

  “There was nothing in the case file about physical abuse by a boyfriend.”

  Looking away, Monette tried to think, tried to remember where she had written that down. “It’s in there. I...I guess I just forgot it in my office. Yes. It’s in my office. I’ll go get it. I’ll show it to you. I’ve got proof.” Stumbling a little, she turned toward the door and reached for the knob, but Susan scooted around her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “Never mind that right now. We can find it later. Right now, you need to eat something and relax for a little bit. We’ve got plenty of time to find what you’re looking for.”

  Monette looked at her supervisor’s concerned face, heard the words coming out of her mouth but couldn’t quite understand what they meant. Nodding, she opened the door and went out. Moving as if she was wading through mud, she found her way to her own office, picked up her purse and then left through the back door. Walking to her car, she got behind the wheel and started the engine. A persistent pinging noise wormed its way into her brain, but she couldn’t place what it was, so she ignored it.

  She was doing the right thing. She knew she was because she was saving Sean.

  Pulling out of the parking lot, she turned to the main street out of town. She would go see Sean, just to make sure he was all right. He would be happy to see her. He would thank her for saving him from their mother.

  Tears filled her eyes. As she reached up to wipe them away, she crested a rise in the road and saw a truck headed straight for her. She jerked the wheel, overcorrecting as the other vehicle zoomed past. Her wheels left the highway and she bumped down an embankment, coming to rest in a ditch.

  * * *

  LANEY HAD LUNCH with her parents and brother, describing what had happened in the meeting. “I got the feeling there was something going on that had nothing to do with us, that Monette’s body was in the room but her mind wasn’t. At least, not after the first few minutes.”

  Vivian shook her head. “You mean like she was disassociated from what was going on?”

  Laney nodded. “This can’t be good.” Her biggest worry was how it would affect the outcome. Would she get Sam back today?

  “And I don’t know where she got that story about my boyfriend hurting Sam. Caleb would never—” She clamped her mouth shut.

  Both her parents stared at her and Ethan chuckled, at least until she glared at him.

  “Honey, is there something we should know?” her dad asked.

  “The stress is getting to me,” she said.

  Wisely, no one responded, but three pairs of speculative eyes considered her as they finished their meal and hurried back to the DCS office.

  Once again, her family waited in the lobby while she and Robert entered the meeting room.

  Susan and Juan were talking together quietly and they both looked up, their expressions unreadable.

  “Where’s Miss Berkley?” Robert asked.

  Susan gave a half smile. “She hasn’t returned from lunch yet. I’m sure she’ll be here momentarily. I left a message on her cell, so she knows we’re starting.”

  “Well, while we’re waiting, maybe you could explain how this new system of dealing with child safety has gone so badly wrong in this case,” Laney said. The state of shock she’d been in for two days was melting away with the heat of her growing anger.

  “Hmm, well, not every new system works perfectly,” Susan began. “And... Oh, here’s Miss Berkley now. She said she had further information for us.”

  The door opened.

  Laney didn’t turn to look at the social worker, though she saw Susan glance up and do a double take that had Laney swinging around to look at Monette. Her mouth dropped open in amazement.

  Monette’s earlier good grooming had disintegrated to a state Laney had never seen on Monette before. Her hair was falling out of the bun that had been so tightly wound earlier, her suit jacket was gone, her blouse was dirty and her skirt was torn. Blood tracked down her left leg and into her shoe.

  Susan stood and rushed around the table. “M
onette. Are you all right?”

  Monette looked confused as she set a briefcase, bulging with papers, on the table. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Have you been in an accident?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Susan pointed to Monette’s leg. “You obviously need medical attention.” Glancing at Juan, she said, “Go get help.”

  “You need to sit down, Monette.” Susan tried to guide her to a chair, but Monette jerked her arm from the woman’s grasp.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing wrong with me. Anyway, we’re not here to talk about me.” Monette’s voice rose and she tossed her head. “We’re here to make sure this woman loses custody of her son and never sees him again.”

  Laney gasped. “Monette, that certainly isn’t the reason for this meeting.”

  “You put Sean in danger!” Monette shrieked as she surged to her feet. She pointed a shaking finger at Laney. Her eyes were wild as she said, “You’re a bad mother! It’s all in my report.”

  Calm in the face of the other woman’s growing hysteria, Laney sat forward and gently asked, “Who is Sean?”

  “You know who he is. He’s my little brother and you’re responsible for his death.”

  Laney, Susan and Robert all exchanged shocked looks.

  “Monette,” Susan said, “we’re going to get you some help. You’re bleeding.”

  “No, no, this isn’t about me!” Monette shook her head and fell back into her chair. She began sobbing. “She let Sean get trampled by a horse. She can’t hurt him anymore.”

  “Let’s make her more comfortable,” Robert said, stepping forward and pulling up another chair so they could elevate Monette’s feet. Reaching for his hand, Monette cried and clung to him while he awkwardly tried to calm her.

  Susan Martinez looked on the verge of tears herself. “I don’t know what has happened. I thought she was better. Everything she showed me was in order. But now...” Her voice trailed off as she gazed at her employee in dismay. After a moment she rallied and said, “Ms. Reynolds, please accept my apology for my department’s action. I can see we were working on misguided information. So this case is dismissed. Your son will be returned to you today.”