“You can’t take him.” Gina stood and gauged the distance to her car, wondering whether she could outrun this woman. No doubt Dion’s presence and assurance that he was near was meant to forestall just that.
“No, that’s not what this is about. Not at this point. Can we sit down and talk?”
Manners. Show her you’re a good mom. Gina gestured the other woman into the kitchen. “I’m sorry—I’m a little upset. Would you like some coffee?” She looked at the high chair where Bobby had eaten his breakfast. Cereal was scattered over the tray and on the floor, and there was a smear of banana on the chair itself. Too late, she noticed that some of it was in his hair as well.
Why, oh, why hadn’t she cleaned things up before answering the door?
“No coffee, thanks. Can you tell me a little about your routines with Bobby, where he stays while you’re working, that sort of thing?” As she spoke, Daisy watched Bobby, not staring, just observant.
Gina blew out a breath and tried to speak, but no words came. She reached for her own coffee and lifted it, thinking it would calm her, but her hand shook so badly that she sloshed some out onto the table and banged it back down too hard.
“Hey,” Daisy said gently, “it’s okay. Take a minute.”
The kind tone brought tears to Gina’s eyes. Still, she knew she shouldn’t trust it. Daisy was just trying to get her to open up.
Never had she felt so alone. Sure, she liked it here in Rescue River; she’d made a start at some friendships. But the reality was that she was new in town, not really a part of things. She was an outsider, and it was her word against two other outsiders, Bobby’s grandparents, so much more wealthy and powerful than she was.
The one real friend she’d thought she had was notably missing: Buck. He hadn’t come in last night, as far as she knew; he must be out carousing or else sleeping it off. She’d chosen the wrong person to attach herself to, as usual.
The loss of him, of who she’d thought he was, opened up a hole in her chest, so painful she almost gasped with it.
Bobby struggled to get down and she set him on the floor, then immediately wondered if that was the right thing to do. Lacey kept the kitchen clean, but the mat below the high chair held the remains of breakfast.
Daisy watched as Bobby pulled up on the chair and moved toward his race-car push toy. A couple of steps, and he fell forward onto his hands, then moved into his preferred crawling mode. Gina went over to make sure he didn’t run into anything, and Daisy stood, too.
“Seems like his development is normal,” she said. “What’s he doing lately?”
That, she could talk about. “He’s pulling up a lot and taking a few steps, like you just saw. He’s not steady yet.” Remembering how he’d taken his first step when Buck was watching, her throat tightened. She’d felt so close to Buck then. She’d trusted him.
Bobby pushed his car into the hallway and down, banging it into the doorway of the front room. He looked back at Gina. “Da? Da?”
“He wants the dogs,” she explained, and then her hand flew to her mouth. “Is that bad, that I let him be around the dogs? They’re gentle as lambs, but my former in-laws were upset...” She trailed off, not wanting to incriminate herself.
“Being around animals is actually good for babies. Helps them not get allergies.”
“That’s what I’ve read.” Relieved, Gina opened the door and Spike and Crater cried to get out of the crates they stayed in at night.
She opened the crates, picked up Bobby and let the dogs go outside. “Sorry,” she said over her shoulder. “Mornings, they need to get out and get fed.”
“I understand. I’m Troy Hinton’s sister, after all. I know rescue dogs, and I know Crater.” She gave the large dog a head scratch as he bounded back inside. His tail wagging, Crater soaked up the attention and then ambled toward the kitchen, pausing to lick Bobby a couple of times. Bobby giggled and sat down hard on his diaper-clad behind.
Gina’s adrenaline spiked again. Was that bad, letting a dog lick a baby? But it was too late to change it.
Spike tore in, barking, and ran in front of Crater to get to the kitchen. “He thinks he’s the alpha,” Gina explained. “And Crater lets him think so. Do you mind if I get them their breakfast? They’ll settle down after that.”
“I have all morning,” Daisy said, “and this is actually great, to see your household, and your care of Bobby, in action.”
Way to make me self-conscious, Gina thought as she scooped dog food into bowls. But the daily routine relaxed her a little, as did Daisy’s apparent friendliness.
Don’t get too trusting, she reminded herself.
“So,” Daisy asked, “while you’re working on the house, where does Bobby stay?”
Gina tensed. “Sometimes we—I mean, I—I gate him in an adjoining room. Sometimes he’s in his jumper, although he doesn’t like it as much as he liked his jumper in California. He doesn’t like to be confined.” She looked down at Bobby, only to realize he was crawling rapidly out of the room. “Bobby!” She put down the dog food and hurried over to close the kitchen door. “Exhibit A,” she said and pulled out a couple of pots and pans for him to bang.
“Do you have alternative care if you’re doing something he shouldn’t be around?” Daisy asked, so Gina explained about Angelica.
They walked around the house slowly, with Gina showing Daisy the places Bobby played, his toys, his crib. As they talked about his routines, Gina started to relax. Daisy just didn’t seem like an enemy; she seemed fair.
After they’d gotten back to the kitchen, Daisy sat down at the table and pulled out her tablet computer. “I’m going to make a few notes here, if you don’t mind,” she said. “No guarantees, but I don’t see anything that would warrant removing Bobby from the home.”
Relief washed over Gina, and she offered a quick prayer of thanks.
Daisy typed rapidly on her tablet, and Gina started wiping down the high chair while Bobby pulled more pans out of the cupboards.
The kitchen door opened. “Hey,” Lacey said. “I slept in a little, since I’m off today. Daisy, what’s up?”
“Just looking into a few things.” Daisy tapped away on her tablet.
“Like, professionally?”
Daisy nodded, still typing.
“The in-laws,” Gina explained. “They filed a report against me and she’s investigating.”
“What?” Lacey stared. “You’re the best mother I’ve ever seen!”
Gina’s jaw just about dropped. “I...I have to say I’m surprised, but thanks.”
Bobby had picked up a plastic bowl, and now he put it on his head, making them all laugh. Gina hurried to get it off so he wouldn’t be scared, but they were still laughing when Art and Lorna flung open the kitchen door. Spike barked fiercely from behind Gina’s legs while Crater walked out to stand, alert, in front of the intruders.
“Where’s our grandson?” Art demanded.
“I don’t recall inviting you into my home,” Lacey said.
“We were given to understand a social worker would investigate. Can’t you quiet down that dog?”
“I’m a social worker, and I’m investigating,” Daisy said calmly, snapping shut the case of her tablet. “Come here, Spike. Good boy.” She swept the little dog up onto her lap.
“But...but it looks like you all know each other,” Lorna argued. “That’s hardly a fair investigation.”
“In this town, we all know each other,” Lacey said.
“And we like it that way,” Daisy added.
Gina swung Bobby to her hip and stepped forward, empowered by the other two women’s presence. “And that’s why I want to raise Bobby here,” she said. “It’s a warm, safe environment. A real community. He’ll grow up happy here.”
Lorna’s hands went to her hips.
“Once we get a real investigator in here, I’m confident that our home will be determined to be a better environment for him.”
Gina’s stomach dropped. Could they do that? She wouldn’t have thought so, but she’d been surprised before at what their money could buy.
She opened her mouth to protest, but Lacey stepped forward and put an arm around Gina. “Since you’re uninvited guests and this is my home, I’d like to ask you to leave.”
Crater stepped forward with them, emitting a low, almost inaudible growl.
Lorna took a step back, but Art huffed and didn’t move.
“I have the police on speed dial,” Daisy said pleasantly. “Shall I call them?”
“Come on, Lorna. Once I make a few phone calls, they’ll be singing a different tune.” The older couple turned and walked out onto the front porch, and Gina followed to make sure they really left.
And there was Buck, trotting up the steps, looking much the worse for wear.
“You again!” Lorna sputtered. “So it’s true you live here. We ought to have you arrested. A common drunk in the same house as our grandson!”
Dion’s police car cruised slowly by, and Art hurried toward the street to flag him down.
“He’s not...” Gina broke off. She didn’t know what Buck was or wasn’t. She couldn’t deny the burst of happiness in her chest when she saw him, but she couldn’t trust it, either.
“What are you still doing here?” He asked the question of Lorna, politely, but with steel in his voice.
“Getting ready to take custody of our grandson, if it’s any of your business.”
“No, you’re not.” Gina lifted her chin and glared her in-laws down. “I’m through putting up with your manipulation and...and abuse. Bobby’s staying here with me, and that’s that.”
“Abuse? You’ve been watching too many trashy TV shows.”
“I saw Art hit him.” She narrowed her eyes at Lorna. “And you were holding Bobby still so he could do it. Don’t even try to deny it.”
“I do deny it,” her mother-in-law said, her lip curling. “And no one’s going to believe you over me.”
“I think they will. Wait here. Everyone, please.” Buck pushed past Lorna and into the house, giving Bobby a brief chin tickle that made him chortle, looking into Gina’s eyes with something inexplicable in his own. Then he disappeared up the stairs.
Hearing some noise on the street, Gina stepped out onto the porch. Dion was walking toward the house with Art, but something off to the side made him stop and stare.
Gina looked, and then she stared, too.
From the direction of the Senior Towers came a parade of white-haired people, some striding, some using walkers and some being pushed in wheelchairs.
They appeared to be headed...here.
When they reached the gate in the front of the guesthouse, the clatter of canes and the scrape of wheels on concrete trailed off. The crowd parted to allow Miss Minnie Falcon to march to the front, her eyes blazing.
Instinctively, Gina went down to meet the older woman, holding Bobby on her hip. “What’s going on, Miss Minnie?”
“I’ll tell you what’s going on.” She stopped her walker and drew herself up, pointing a long, bony finger at Art, then at Lorna. “We were having breakfast this morning when word came around that you two are attempting to take little Bobby away from his mother.”
“And that they’re using things we said as evidence, which is just plain ridiculous,” Gramps Camden contributed from the front of the crowd.
Behind Gina, the door of the guesthouse opened. She looked back as Buck hurried out, still in his bedraggled clothes, and then stopped. Crater stood at his side.
“For one thing, that young man,” Miss Minnie said, gesturing at Buck, “is a fine, upright person, and any child would be safe with him.”
Gina blinked at the vote of confidence.
Ninetysomething Bob Eakin, the Towers librarian, came forward, adjusting his Proud WWII Veteran baseball cap. “He may have had some troubles in the past, but who here hasn’t?” he asked, his voice ringing out loudly. “Who will cast the first stone?”
Realization swept over Gina. She had been casting stones, had been believing the worst of Buck even against the evidence of her own senses. “Buck Armstrong is totally safe,” she said. “I’d trust him with Bobby’s life.”
Buck descended the steps slowly, his forehead wrinkled. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then closed it again.
“And what’s more,” said Lou Ann Miller, who was pushing a wheelchair, “Gina Patterson is a wonderful mother. I’ve visited her and seen her with Bobby. There’s no reason on earth to take that baby away.”
Seeing the white heads nodding, Gina’s throat tightened. When in her life had people ever stood up for her this way, taken her side?
Art made an abrupt, waving gesture, seeming to discount their words. “The truth will come out, and then we’ll get custody.”
Buck took an intimidating step forward, and despite his ragged clothes, his straight posture and steely gaze made everyone quiet down.
“The truth will come out. I had occasion to take a picture of Bobby right after he and his mother arrived in Rescue River,” he said, holding up his smartphone. “And if you’ll look where I’m zooming it in, you’ll see the fist-size bruise on Bobby’s leg.” He looked at Gina. “I’m sorry to make your story public, but these people have to be stopped. The reason she left California,” he said as he turned to the crowd, “is that these two were beginning to abuse their grandson. This bruise is just the outward mark of some pretty awful behavior.”
Art and Lorna sputtered and looked at each other. Before they could formulate a response, Dion’s voice boomed out. “Is that true, Gina?”
She cleared her throat so she could say it loud and clear. “They hit him and shook him. I was afraid for his safety.”
A murmur came from the Senior Towers crowd, rising in volume. Indignant voices stood out.
“That’s an outrage.”
“They should be prosecuted.”
“We don’t tolerate that kind of thing around here.”
Lorna’s face was red and her eyes shiny with tears. Art looked apoplectic. “You haven’t heard the end of this,” he snarled at Gina. “It’s not against the law to discipline a child.”
Dion stepped toward the couple. “I’ll be following up with my colleagues in California. Now, I’d suggest you get out of our town and don’t come back.”
Assenting voices came from the white-haired crowd.
Art and Lorna looked at each other, then turned and hurried down to their car, hunching away from the disapproving stares and comments of those watching. A moment later, their car pulled away.
Gina stood, dazed, as voices and activity swirled around her. Finally, a gentle hand patted her back. “I brought down a chair,” Lacey said. “Come on—sit.”
So she sank into an Adirondack chair, Bobby in her arms, and Lacey sat down beside her. Spike jumped up, licked her leg and Bobby’s, and then squeezed in beside her, panting. And as people came up to express their indignation or sympathy, offering help and comfort, something long empty inside her started to fill. She was cared for. She was protected. She was home.
Chapter Fourteen
It was now or never.
Buck hitched his duffel to his shoulder and walked out into the moonlight. He’d thought about it all day today, had prayed, had found moments between the busy festival activities to discuss things with Lacey.
He’d gotten his life and his sobriety back in Rescue River, had learned he could love again. He’d even, at the storefront church, come to see that he wasn’t to blame for Ivana’s driving off the road with Mia. But he was still some distance from being fully recovered, and he didn’t know if he’d
ever get there. The wise pastor he’d talked to last night had reminded him of what the Bible said about being single: it could be a blessed state, allowing a person to devote himself to God’s work.
But Buck knew he couldn’t get to that point while being in Gina’s presence. He’d come to care too much. At the same time, he’d seen how she didn’t trust him, might never trust him, because of her own past. The minute Art and Lorna had started lobbing accusations, she’d believed them.
He didn’t blame her for that; he did have a past, and so did she. But he owed it to himself and to God to go somewhere he could make a difference and rebuild a life.
He’d debated over and over whether to talk to her before he left, but in the end, he’d decided that a quick departure would be less painful for both of them. He’d left a letter for her with Lacey, explaining why he was leaving.
He strode out the front door, intent on reaching his truck before he changed his mind.
“Where are you headed?”
The soft voice nearly shattered him. Slowly, he turned toward the source of it: Gina, on the front porch, bathed in moonlight and holding Bobby.
Nod and run! His brain made that very practical suggestion. But his heart and soul tugged him toward the pair, so he dropped his duffel by the rocking chair and walked over.
Gina smiled at him, looking relaxed. She’d always been gorgeous, but from the time she’d arrived in town, tension had tightened her face and haunted her eyes. Now that was gone, and the effect of her genuine, full smile was stunning.
“Wh-what are you doing out here?” he stammered, buying time.
“I finally got him to sleep.” She nodded down at Bobby, relaxed in her lap. “But then he woke up again, all fussy. Sometimes fresh air and rocking helps him settle down.”
“And you can relax now, knowing you’re safe here,” he said.
“Exactly. I never felt quite at ease bringing him outside at night. Silly, I know, but I worried that Lorna and Art would jump out and grab him.”
“I don’t think they’ll be bothering you anymore.” He believed it, too. He’d followed them when they left downtown with their tails between their legs, had watched them check out of the motel at the edge of town and made sure they drove away. He’d spoken to Dion this afternoon, and the full force of the law had been in effect. Dion was in contact with the police in the couple’s hometown and was working on a restraining order here. If a trial came, Gina would have to testify, but after his conversation with Lorna and Art, Dion was certain they’d stay away.
The Soldier and the Single Mom Page 17