Almost a Family

by Roxanne Rustand

  “Right.” Lily grabbed her jacket from its hook and held the door open. “We can be back before she knows we left, and then Scout won’t be in trouble.”

  Already, he’d taken off three times, and Erin had talked about building a pen for him. Dog jail. What fun was that? Brushing past Lily, Drew hurried across the porch and down the steps. “Tyler, you and Lily stick together. You go that way—” He motioned toward the lane that led down to the road. “And I’ll go—” At a distant sound of barking, he grinned. “Nope—let’s all go up the hill. That sure sounds like Scout.”

  He took off at a run. At the edge of the clearing he looked over his shoulder, belatedly remembering that Lily and Tyler couldn’t keep up. “I’ll run ahead,” he shouted. “Just in case he keeps going.”

  “Wait!”

  Tyler’s voice followed him as he charged through the underbrush, but Drew didn’t stop. If Scout got as far as the house on the hill, Dr. Reynolds might be home. He’d told Erin about the last time they’d trespassed on his land, and just yesterday, she’d warned them all about staying well clear of the guy’s house. He was nice about letting you kids have a dog—but he doesn’t want company, so respect his wishes and don’t bother him.

  At the top of a steep climb, Drew stopped and leaned over to catch his breath, his hands propped on his knees and his lungs burning.

  The only sound he heard was some stupid squirrel chattering from the top of a tree. “Scout! Here, boy!”

  He whistled, then called again. Nothing.

  Frustrated, he plowed past prickly raspberry vines and some sort of spiky bush, sweeping away low-hanging pine bows and stumbling over jagged rocks that poked up through the pine-needle carpet underfoot. And still there was no sound of a puppy barking.

  His muscles ached. All around, the heavy timber seemed to press in on him, dark and threatening, with deep shadows that seemed to form and then reform into looming creatures waiting to attack.

  Off to the left a long dark shape slid through the underbrush, silent as a ghost. A wolf?

  Then a much larger form silently materialized—towering high above him at the top of the next rise, blocking the scant rays of light filtering through the dense canopy of branches.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, Drew cried out as he stumbled backward, half fell, then caught himself with an outstretched hand against sharp-edged rock.

  “It’s only me. Your neighbor, Connor. Remember?”

  Blinking, Drew scrambled to his feet. Blood pounded in his ears as images crashed through his thoughts of another time. Walking into another place he wasn’t meant to be, where a man had loomed over him like the very devil, a gun gleaming in his hand and evil glittering in his small, dark eyes.

  The sickly smell of blood, and death.

  The taste of his own fear.

  “Whoa, kid. I’m not a boogeyman.” Giving him an odd look, Connor took a careful step back, and then Scout bounded out from behind him, his tail wagging. “I was just bringing your puppy back.”

  “Uh—thanks.” Embarrassment flooded Drew’s cheeks with heat as he accepted the end of the leash, so he ducked his head as he knelt down to let Scout leap into his lap. The pup wiggled wildly in his arms, smothering him with excited kisses. “I’ll bring your leash back.”

  “Just leave it on your mailbox. I’ll get it next time I drive by. By the way, I saw your notice about the dog on the billboard at the grocery store, and an ad in the paper,” he added. “Had any calls?”

  “Nope.” A flicker of joy danced through Drew’s middle. “Not even one—and this is the third day.”

  “Congratulations, then. Looks like you’ve got a dog.” Connor turned to leave, but at a rustle of branches behind Drew, he looked back over his shoulder.

  Lily and Tyler, both breathless, shouted with excitement as they rushed forward and dropped to their knees. Scout scrambled over them, too. Lily laughed and kissed him, then Tyler wrestled him away and they rolled on the ground.

  “Thanks, mister,” Tyler squealed as Scout licked his ear.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Unable to hold back a grin any longer, Drew looked up—and felt his joy fade away.

  Connor frowned down at him. “Just keep him safe at home, and you three all need to stay there, as well. Tell Erin I have to talk to her.”

  “B-but we didn’t do anything wrong,” Lily whispered, her eyes welling with sudden tears.

  “We just came looking for Scout,” Tyler added. “We had to. Are you g-gonna tell?”

  Drew handed the end of the leash to Tyler, then helped Lily get to her feet. “C’mon, let’s go,” he snapped.

  But then his anger grew, fueled by Tyler and Lily’s pale faces and by the memory of all the times he’d helplessly taken crap from the druggies who’d hung around his real mom, until he’d felt as if he might explode into a million pieces.

  He whirled around and glared at Connor’s back as the man disappeared through the trees. “Bet it makes you feel real important to make a little girl cry.”

  He didn’t bother to wait for an answer…didn’t even know if Connor had heard him. But by the time they reached the stream bordering the clearing, Lily had tears running down her cheeks and she was limping more than she usually did.

  Tyler looked up at her uncertainly. “Are you hurting?”

  Scrubbing furiously at her damp cheeks, she shook her head.

  But Erin would take one good look at Lily’s face and want to know what was up, and then they’d all be in trouble for leaving the yard again. Drew reached down for a rock and pitched it across the stream. “Uh…we’re close enough now. Maybe we just better stay out here awhile. Let’s look for minnows.”

  Scout tugged at his leash, then bounded back and jumped up against Tyler, wanting to play. “Were you scared of that guy?” he whispered to Lily.

  “N-no…” She shook her head again—more slowly this time—and plopped down on a boulder. Her lower lip trembled. “It’s all my fault if Erin finds out we left, and gets mad.”

  Tyler frowned. “What is?”

  “Everything. You didn’t let Scout out. I—I did.” The dog licked her hand, and she leaned over to bury her face in his soft, warm fur. “I—I want everything to be perfect, like in the stories. A family. A dog. A house where I can stay and never have to move, ever again. But I keep messing everything up.”

  Drew gave an exasperated snort. “We got Scout back. No big deal.”

  “But now that guy is probably mad at Erin and us. What if he makes us move, or says we can’t have a dog, after all?”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Lily lifted her tear-streaked face and met his eyes. “Sam moved out and divorced her, ’cause of us kids. How much is she gonna put up with before she just decides to send me back?”

  “She can’t.” But as much as he wanted to believe it, there’d been a big, empty place in Drew’s heart ever since the night the social workers had come to take him and Tyler away from Mom, and now that painful place grew until it filled his whole chest. Nothing was certain. Not ever. He forced a smile. “Sam didn’t leave because of us. He left because he was a big fat jerk.”

  “Oh, yeah? I heard them argue. Lots.” Lily’s lower lip trembled. “About how we took up all of her time, and how she loved us better than him. And how she wasn’t fun anymore. He…mostly complained about me. Then he left.”

  Tyler’s eyes widened. “She can’t send any of us back. She adopted us.”

  “If Sam could leave us, why couldn’t she?” Lily drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs. “’Specially me. You’ve been with her longer than I have.”

  “She won’t do that,” Drew insisted.

  But Lily dropped her forehead to her knees, and Drew could tell she was silently crying. He awkwardly patted her on the back, wishing he knew what to say to make her feel better.

  But no one could help with the really bad things. He knew all about pain and anger and fear, and the kind of
nightmares that never went away.

  He knew it well, because he’d done the worst thing a kid could do, and nothing could change that fact. If Erin ever found out about it, he’d be back in a foster home in a split second—and maybe he’d never see his brother or Lily again.

  Because who’d ever want a kid like him?

  A FUNERAL SURE WASN’T a good way to start out a new week.

  Erin swiveled her desk chair to face the window overlooking the hospital grounds. Outside, enjoying the crisp mid-September sunshine, a nurse’s aide pushed an elderly man in a wheelchair along a cement walkway. A couple of other aides on break were perched on a picnic table, hunched over their cigarettes and matches, fighting a stiff breeze.

  Normal, ordinary activities, because life went on.

  Yet she only had to close her eyes to be back at St. John’s Catholic Church, with its intense scent of lilies and roses, and the somber faces of Frank Willoughby’s family.

  His frail little wife had appeared overwhelmed, even a little shell-shocked, as well-wishers approached to press her hand and murmur condolences. After sixty-two years of marriage she was alone, poor thing, though in her mild dementia she had continued to refer to her husband in the present tense.

  Perhaps, Erin mused, confusion could be a kind friend.

  Two of Willoughby’s children—grown men now, with well-cut suits and an air of quiet success—had conferred at length at the back of the chapel. And as their voices rose, Erin had heard one of them say, “Dad was sharp as a tack, and he was doing much better. He should have pulled through this.”

  Losing a loved one was tough, and unexpected death even harder. There were always the what-ifs, and the self-recriminations over what should have been done faster. Different. Better.

  And there were the regrets over words left unsaid, because it had seemed as if there’d always be another day to share them. The family clearly was still struggling with Frank’s death. Seeing their grief had made her reconsider every aspect of the case as she sat through the service.

  But every policy and procedure had been followed.

  The documentation was complete.

  He’d been one of just a few in-patients at the hospital that day, and had received close nursing supervision.

  And, after all, the man was ninety-three, with congestive heart failure and a pacemaker. He might well have passed away at the nursing home…right?

  At a light tap on her open office door, she shook off her melancholy thoughts and swiveled away from the window. “Hi. What can I do for—”

  It was Connor Reynolds.

  Dressed in Levi’s and loafers, with a stethoscope hanging over his open collared black polo shirt, he looked the perfect urban yuppie doctor. One who worked out a lot, given that broad chest and those muscular forearms. “I just want to talk to you for a few minutes.”

  “Sure.” She waved toward the two leather-upholstered chairs facing her desk. “Anytime.”

  He sauntered in and glanced at the bare walls of her office, the haphazard stack of cardboard boxes in one corner. “Still moving in?”

  “Trying.” She laced her fingers on the desk and dredged up a smile. “Is something wrong?”

  He settled into one of the chairs and gave her a weary grin. “This is…a personal situation.”

  It took every ounce of concentration to keep her smile in place. “Yes?”

  He crossed one long leg over the opposite knee. “We’ve got some history between us.”

  Erin’s heart stumbled. Oh, God. Her mouth went dry.

  “And apparently, it’s not good.” He studied her for a long moment. “I ran into your kids again on Saturday, Erin. I’d like to know what’s going on.”

  Lily. Had he noticed anything? Had he caught that dimple in her chin—or the pale gray shade of her eyes? Taking a deep, steadying breath, Erin recalled the promises she’d once made to Stephanie, and gave a vague wave of her hand. “I—I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “They were way up in the woods.”

  “Oh.” Closing her eyes, she leaned back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I was working in my home office that morning. I’ll bet there wasn’t a half hour between the times I checked on them, and they never said a word about being gone. But things will be better now—I have a new babysitter who will work every day after school, and on Saturday mornings when I need her.”

  “The kids don’t bother me,” he said shortly. “It’s what could be out in the woods that might hurt them. I’ve seen more than just tracks now—I saw a large black wolf at dawn on Saturday morning, loping along just north of my house.”

  “I’ll talk to them right away,” she said fervently, rubbing her arms against a sudden chill.

  “While you’re at it, I get the feeling that they’ve got the wrong impression of me. As much as they must believe it, I’m not the monster who lives up on the hill.” There was no recrimination in his eyes, only a hint of sadness. “I may prefer my solitude, but the last thing I want is for them to think I’m a dangerous guy.”

  “N-no. Of course not.”

  “Yet when I brought their puppy back on Saturday, Lily started crying after I said they should try to keep him at home. And Drew…” Connor shook his head, a glimmer of a smile lifting a corner of his mouth. “That’s one spunky little kid. He yelled at me for upsetting her.”

  A few years ago, when Stephanie revealed her darkest secret, Erin’s opinion of Connor had plummeted. But the gentleness in his eyes was not what she’d have expected from someone who apparently had been so cruel. Had he mellowed—or could Stephanie have been wrong?

  “It’s true that I’ve told them to leave you alone,” she said slowly, measuring her words. “They need to stay home for safety’s sake, and they shouldn’t bother you. I’ve never portrayed you as an evil guy. But these kids…” She pushed away from her desk and stood at the window, looking out at the early morning sunshine. “They’ve had a tough time. All of them. Drew and Tyler came from a very troubled situation, in a bad part of Milwaukee. Drew tends to be defensive, even belligerent. Tyler is just…scared. When they first came to me they hoarded food in their rooms, and Tyler had constant nightmares. They’ve been with me for over a year now. And Lily—” Erin swallowed hard, then turned to face Connor. “I’ve had her for just about six months. With her various problems, she has bounced around in the foster care system all her life.”

  “They’ve all had it rough, then.” He shook his head slowly. “At least they’re in good hands now.”

  She gave a humorless laugh. “Oh, yes—good hands. A chance to grow up in a real family, with two loving parents. Sam wasn’t able to father a child, so he agreed to adopt—then he left because parenthood was ‘too demanding.’ A great example for them all, right?”

  “But they’ve got you, and that’s something they didn’t have before. How many single moms are out there working hard and raising fantastic kids on their own? Millions.”

  Touched, she leaned against the windowsill and rested her palms against the cool marble surface, and for the first time felt herself truly relax in his presence. “I keep hoping that being with me is the best thing for them. The two happiest days of my life were when I signed the adoption papers.”

  “They’re very lucky kids.” Connor glanced at the clock, then rose. “Guess I’d better be on my way.”

  He was almost out the door when she found herself calling out to him. “Maybe it would be good if you came over sometime. I—I don’t suppose you’d be free this week. For supper. With, um, the kids and me. Maybe Wednesday?”

  He intended to decline. She could see it in the set of his mouth when he hesitated. Then he smiled, and the flash of those deep dimples made her pulse skip a beat. “Seven?”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  After his footsteps faded down the hall, she sat down behind her desk and dropped her forehead into the palm of her hand. What was I thinking? This was definitely not a good idea. Careful distance,
not proximity, was going to get her through the next three months. Lily had become a beautiful little girl. If he recognized certain traits in her, would he try to fight for Lily?

  Maybe he’d changed. Maybe he was a nice guy.

  But he was also the man who’d angrily told his future wife to abort the baby he’d fathered. Who’d refused to acknowledge that child. And then Lily had languished for nearly eight years in foster care, because no one else had ever come forward to accept a child who wasn’t perfect.

  And that was a decision Erin could never forgive.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ERIN WAS JUST A NEIGHBOR. Nothing more than that. She’d offered a neighborly invitation for supper, and he’d accepted on those terms. It was certainly not any sort of a date.

  Connor told himself that on the way home from the clinic on Wednesday afternoon. As he took Maisie for a quick run up the trail. While he showered, and changed into khaki Dockers and a nubby black L. L. Bean sweater.

  He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had a date, but this wasn’t a date…even though he would be having dinner with a woman he’d found utterly appealing, in a winsome sort of way, back in college.

  The intervening years had done amazing things to the sweet young thing she’d been back then. Stephanie had once blithely discounted her as a little bookworm, but now Erin’s shyness had evolved into confidence, and her wholesome, girlish features had matured into something far more striking and evocative.

  He no longer had to remind himself that this was a nondate when Lily opened the door and he found himself nearly flattened by a wet, soapy dog and an overweight teenager who barely managed to tackle the animal as it raced across the porch.

  Clutching the struggling dog to her chest, the girl gave him a megawatt smile. “I’m the babysitter, Haley. You must be Dr. Reynolds. Come on in—but watch out for the floor. It’s kinda wet.”

  “I take it Scout doesn’t like bath time.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He escaped when Drew opened the door to go after more towels. I’ll be right back.” She headed across the living room toward the back of the house. “Drew, get back here!”