A Promise Never Forgotten

by KaLyn Cooper

“Sweetie, Uncle Logan and I aren’t married so we don’t sleep in the same bed.” Teagan stood up and squinted at him. “Please tell me you brewed an entire pot of coffee.”

  “I did.” It had been a short night and was going to be a long day. He was going to need the additional caffeine. Obviously, Teagan would also.

  “Good. Then I won’t have to kill you.” She padded barefoot over to the coffee pot. Reaching into the cabinet above, she extracted the biggest cup he’d ever seen. It was shaped like the coffee cup, but the size of a large soup bowl. When she filled it nearly to the brim, he was resigned to making another pot.

  “Who wants more pancakes?” Logan asked all three of them when their plates were empty.

  Ten minutes later, tummies full, the children wandered back to their bedrooms to change their clothes.

  Teagan had finished her first cup and was on her second when someone knocked on the door.

  He slid her a glance. This was it. Logan had no idea what to expect. He should have looked up information on his phone last night. It wasn’t as though he slept much knowing Teagan was on the couch and he was in her bed. It smelled of her. Every time he rolled over, her pillow wafted her scent. It had been torture. Usually if he smelled a woman in the bed and couldn’t sleep, he would roll over and slide into her, expending his excess energy until they were both exhausted. But he’d been alone in the bed.

  Teagan took a deep breath and hopped off her stool. The torment continued. Her breasts rising and growing as she inhaled was bad enough, but he could see her soft nipples through the silky little peach colored top and the shorts just barely covered the bottom of her perfect derrière.

  “Teagan, you might want to reconsider answering the door.” He ran his gaze over her toned body. “I’m enjoying your pajamas, but I don’t think you want the woman from social services to see that much of you. She would definitely get the wrong impression.”

  She glanced down at the skimpy night clothes. “Fuck.” Her eyes grew leery. It was as though she had just awakened to a nightmare, remembering why the woman was coming. Darting toward her bedroom, she called, “Logan, can you—”

  “I’ve got it.” He strode to the door and looked through the peephole. Ms. Cook stood next to detective dickhead. Both were once again dressed conservatively in navy blue suits.

  Why the hell is he here?

  Before Detective Russo could knock, Logan opened the door. He stepped out into the hall and left the door open a crack behind him.

  “We haven’t said anything to the children.” Logan kept his good ear toward the opening, listening for the children. “All they know is that they had a sleepover with Aunt Teagan, and Uncle Logan made them breakfast. They’re in their room changing out of their pajamas.”

  The door started to open, and he saw Teagan out of the corner of his eye.

  She looked them up and down warily as she stepped into the hall. “I’m Teagan Williams, Anora and Brann’s godmother. Thank you for agreeing to tell…” She swallowed hard. “Help the children learn about their…” She bravely fought back the tears. “About Marsha.”

  Logan just wanted to pull her to him and hold her as she once again cried. When she didn’t move any closer, he took that as a sign and kept his hands to himself.

  “Detective Connor Russo. Can we move this inside?” He reached up and shoved the door open, letting himself in.

  “Yes, certainly.” Teagan showed them into the living room. “Would anyone care for coffee?”

  “No, thank you. This is not a social visit. Could you please ask the children to come in here?” As an afterthought, she added, “Melissa Cook, from Fairfax County Department of Family Services.”

  Teagan blanched.

  Logan was afraid she was going to pass out. “Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll get the kids.” Without waiting for consent, he walked down the hall to their bedroom.

  Good. They were dressed for the day. “Brann, Anora, there’s someone here to see you.” He tried desperately to school his face but when his gaze met Brann’s, he couldn’t hold back the sorrow in his eyes.

  “Who is it?” The boy asked quietly.

  “Come on,” he held out his hand. Brann immediately slid his hand into Logan’s. He reached down and picked up Anora, planting her on his hip. The little girl wound her tiny arms around his neck. When he reached the living room, he sat in the empty chair pulling her onto his lap. Brann chose to stand beside the chair, never letting go of Logan’s hand.

  “I’m Ms. Cook and you must be Brann and Anora.” She smiled pleasantly and spoke to them in a soft voice.

  Neither child said anything, simply nodded.

  “I’m afraid I have some very bad news for you.” She patted the seat next to her. “Would you like to come and sit next to me?”

  “No,” Brann said forcefully.

  “I want Aunt Teagan.” Anora leaped down and dashed across the living room, diving into Teagan’s lap.

  Logan could feel the young boy shaking so he pulled him around and parked him on his knee. “I’m here for you.”

  “Why don’t you bring the children over here so they could sit next to me on the couch?” Ms. Cook suggested.

  “They’re fine right where they are.” Teagan’s voice was stern. Anora had curled up into a small ball, peeking over her knees at the official-looking woman.

  “I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you this, but your mother passed away last night.”

  “No! No!” Brann screamed. “You’re a liar.” He looked around to face Logan. “Tell her, Uncle Logan. Mom’s at home. She had to throw out Dad’s clothes yesterday.” Tears had started to streak down his face. “Dad’s dead. Not Mom. It’s not true.”

  Logan had never felt so helpless in his life. He pulled Brann to his chest and simply held him. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry.”

  Across the room, Teagan was crying.

  Anora twisted and stuck her face two inches from Teagan’s. “What does that mean? Did Mommy have to go someplace? Like a hospital? Is she hurt?”

  “No, sweetie, it means that your mommy is gone.” Teagan’s voice broke. “She’s in heaven now.”

  Anora looked relieved. “Oh, she went to visit Daddy. When is she coming back?”

  “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Your mommy isn’t coming back.” Teagan struggled to tell the child between her own sobs.

  Tears began to flow from Anora’s eyes. “Ever?”

  Teagan simply shook her head side to side. “No, sweetie. She can’t come back. But she’ll always be right here in your heart.” Teagan laid her fingertips in the middle of Anora’s chest.

  “Let go of me.” Brann wiggled out of Logan’s embrace and darted across the room. When he held out his arms to his sister, she instantly went to him. They slumped to the floor together.

  “Mom’s dead. Just like Dad.” He cut straight to the point. “It’s just you and me now.”

  Teagan slid next to them. “Oh, no. You’re not alone.” She embraced both children in her hug. “I’m here for you.”

  Logan shoved out of his chair and joined them. “I am, too.” As he wrapped his arms around all three, he’d never felt as protective, and helpless, at the same time. He wasn’t sure how the hell he was going to do it, but he would take care of these two wonderful children the rest of their lives. They had suffered enough grief and sorrow in one week to last a lifetime.

  He vowed to bring them joy and happiness forever. He was their godfather. He needed to step up and figure out a way to keep these children together and safe.

  “Ms. Cook and I need to ask the children a few questions.” Detective Russo pushed off the far wall where he had been leaning, practically lurking in the shadows.

  Teagan stood with Anora in her arms and sat back down on the chair. “What kind of questions?”

  Logan took that as his cue. Throwing an arm around Brann’s shoulders, they walked back to the seat they’d occupied before.

  “Bradley, did your mother
seemed depressed lately?” Detective Russo asked.

  Brann stiffened. “I’m not Bradley. He’s my older brother. Half-brother. He’s at West Point. If you want to ask him questions, you’ll have to go there. I’m Brann.” The boy leaned back against Logan and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. Logan had never been so proud in his life. The kid had guts to talk back to a police detective, correcting him on his assumption.

  “Okay, Brann. Was your mother sad lately?” The idiot repeated the question.

  Brann gave him a can-you-be-that-stupid look. “Yes, she was sad. My dad got murdered.” His voice broke on the last word. “We had the funeral ” When tears began to fall again, Brann turned his face into Logan’s chest.

  “Brann,” Teagan called from across the room. “Would you please go to your bedroom and grab the box of tissues off your nightstand?” When the boy didn’t move, she added, “Brann, I need to blow my nose, but I don’t want to leave the room.”

  “Okay,” he said between sniffs. He spun around, and trotted toward the hall, head down, not looking at anyone.

  “Sweetie, would you help your brother find the tissues, please?” Teagan stood and Anora chased her brother out of the room.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Teagan punched her balled fists onto her rounded hips and got into the detective’s face. “You’re not allowed to question children without a parent present. Since I’m their godmother, I guess that makes me the closest thing to a parent, and as such, I’m telling you to get the fuck out of my house. You are not allowed to talk to either of these children.”

  When the detective took a step toward Teagan, Logan shot out of his chair to stand beside her.

  “First of all, those two children are now orphans, and technically wards of the state.” He pointed to Ms. Cook who stood. “She now represents the children in the eyes of the Commonwealth of Virginia, so I certainly can question them.”

  “As their godparents, we are designated to take care of them in the absence of their parents,” Teagan volleyed back.

  “Ms. Williams,” Ms. Cook said with derision. “This is the twenty first century. In the United States we have a separation of church and state. Without anything in writing, we have nothing but your word that Mrs. Davis wanted you to care for the children. We spoke this morning with her parents, who didn’t feel capable of raising the children, given their advanced age. Since you have no blood ties to any of them, we have to look at all resources available to us.”

  “Marsha made me promise if anything ever happened to her, that I would take care of Brann and Anora.” As though she had just thought of something, her whole face brightened. “We talked about this just last week. She was going to write it into her will.”

  “Are her parents the executor of her will?” Logan asked hopefully.

  “I don’t know,” Teagan admitted. “I could call her attorney and ask.”

  “Ms. Williams, if you’re not specifically mentioned in the will as the designated caretaker of the children, I’m not sure if we will be able to assign them to you.” Ms. Cook continued. “What is your marital status?”

  Fuck. Logan knew where this was headed.

  The children could end up in an orphanage or foster care.

  Separated.

  Alone.

  And there was nothing he and Teagan could do about it.

  Fuck!

  Chapter Eight

  “I’m single.” Teagan admitted quietly. She could feel her custody battle slipping through her clenched fists.

  Ms. Cook’s face pinched. “Since there are two children, a boy and a girl, we prefer to place the children in a home with both a mother and a father.”

  “There are millions of single mothers out there raising a house full of kids by themselves,” Teagan pointed out.

  “Have you taken the training to be a foster parent?” Ms. Cook asked, ignoring Teagan’s statement.

  “No, but I could do that.” Maybe they could give her custody of the children while she took the course. Perhaps it was online and would only take a few hours. She could squeeze that in between visits to her mother and work.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Williams, but you need to be approved for our program before we can place the children with you.” Ms. Cook looked apologetic. “There’s a lot more to it than you may think. You are required twenty-five hours of training to understand the needs of the children, CPR and first aid, group meetings, home inspections, medical information, and a criminal background check. The process can take months.”

  “Can they stay here in the meantime?” Teagan said hopefully.

  “I’m sorry.” The social services agent truly looked regretful. “I’m not allowed to do that unless it is stated in writing by the parents.”

  Logan put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you call Marsha’s attorney. It can’t hurt.”

  She forced a grin. “Let me grab his number.” She really wanted an excuse to check on the children. She also wanted to make a phone call from the privacy of her bedroom. It was obvious that Logan didn’t like the detective. She hated the man. He seemed rude and arrogant.

  “I want Mommy.” Anora’s plea almost broke Teagan’s heart as she approached their bedroom. She was so young. Would she even remember her mother in ten years?

  “I know. Me too.” Brann held his sister and rocked her as they both cried.

  “Did she go to heaven to be with Daddy, so he wasn’t all alone?” The child tried to reason.

  Teagan wasn’t so sure that their father was in heaven, but her mother certainly was.

  “I don’t know,” Brann admitted. “Something bad must’ve happened to her because she wouldn’t leave us all alone. She loves us.”

  Tears streaked down Teagan’s cheeks.

  She stepped into the spare bedroom. “Your mommy loved you both, very much. Your Uncle Logan and I are going to do everything we can so that you can stay here with me. Are you okay with that?”

  Anora ran over and threw her arms around Teagan’s legs. “I want to go home. Can you come live at our house? You can babysit us there.”

  The house. Somebody had to deal with the house. Teagan knew, from the many hours she spent with Marsha, that they had been able to build up an excellent equity in the house. Perhaps it was enough to start college funds for the kids.

  Then she remembered that the children were already worth a million dollars each, thanks to their inheritance from Gabe. She needed to call Marsha’s attorney.

  “I have to make a very important phone call. Are you kids okay staying right here for a few more minutes? I don’t want you to go back into the living room until I’m done with my call.” She trusted Logan, but she felt like she had a better handle on the situation and dealing with the children.

  Both nodded.

  “Promise me you’ll stay right here until I get back.” She ran her hand over Anora’s hair. “I’ll be right across the hall, if you need me.”

  Brann took Anora’s hand and led her to her bed. “We won’t leave the room, I promise. I don’t like those people. Uncle Logan needs to make them go away.”

  “We’re working on that right now.” She hoped her voice was reassuring.

  After grabbing Ed Keller’s card from her dresser, Teagan collapsed into the overstuffed chair in the corner of her bedroom. She took a minute to mentally practice what she was going to say. She didn’t want to break down in tears. After taking a deep breath, she tapped in the number.

  It took a few minutes to convince his secretary that this was truly an emergency, but his guard dog finally put her through.

  “Ms. Williams, I understand this is an emergency. How can I help you?” He genuinely sounded concerned.

  “Mr. Keller, I don’t know if you’ve been informed yet but,” she blinked back the tears and tried to swallow the fist that was clenching her throat. “But Marsha Davis died last night.” She squeezed her eyes shut for only a second then quickly added, “I have the children with
me. Social services just told them of their mother’s…death.” Her voice broke on the last word. She wanted to say so badly the word murder, but that wasn’t the ruling of the stupid detective in her living room.

  There was a long silence before he replied. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Williams. I know you and Mrs. Davis were good friends.”

  She heard papers shuffling.

  Teagan charged on. “Marsha had always said that she wanted me to take care of her children if anything happened to her. Just last week we talked about her putting it into her will.”

  “Hold on, Ms. Williams.” More shuffling, before he called out to his secretary.

  Needing him to understand the urgency of the situation, she went on to explain. “They’re here, right now, trying to take the children away from me and put them into the foster care system,” Teagan blurted as the first tears escaped her eyes.

  “Don’t let them leave,” he demanded. “What’s your address? I’ll be right there.”

  If she wasn’t already sitting down, she would have fallen to her knees in relief. “You can help?”

  “Yes. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. What’s your address? I’ll be there as soon as I can.” His voice was calm and in control, exactly what she needed.

  After giving him her address, and her phone number, he promised to be there within twenty minutes. Rejuvenated by the hopeful news, Teagan exited her bedroom, checked on the children who were coloring quietly, and strode down the hallway.

  “Let me just clarify what you’re saying.” Logan glowered down at Detective Russo, their faces ten inches apart. “Because of a note on the computer screen, a ten-millimeter Colt 1911 on the floor near her right hand, and a hole in her head, you are declaring Marsha’s death a suicide.”

  What-the-fuck? It took Teagan only a few seconds to process what Logan was describing.

  “Yes.” The detective punctuated the single word with a head nod.

  “No.” Teagan stepped into the room and repeated the word. “No.” The second time she said it forcefully.

  Both men turned to look at her.

  “No. She didn’t commit suicide.” Teagan shot a quick glance down the hallway to be sure the children hadn’t overheard her. Whew. Neither child emerged from the bedroom, nor did she hear crying.