by Lyn Cote
The three voices rattled on, sticking to the same old boring script. Did they have to fight at the bottom of the only staircase to her suite? This could go on all night. I have to work tomorrow.
Making a sound of disgust, Keely headed into the battle zone. Without a word, she walked around the three of them—her tall ramrod straight father, her fashionably thin mother, and Grady—a younger version of their father but with his blond hair spiked in a bristling hairstyle. She mounted the stairs.
"Well, Keely!" her mother called after her. "You could say something—not just walk right past your parents—"
"Good night, Mother, Father, and Grady." She kept on climbing.
"Don't be flippant," her father barked.
"I'm tired and I wish you all a good night." She reached the second floor landing and looked out the huge arched window over the front door. She glimpsed Sloan walking away from the house to his vehicle. Had he come to the door? Why? Why hadn't he just driven away as she'd expected?
She paused and watched him drive away from the house into the darkness. Whatever his business had been, she didn't blame him for turning tail. She couldn't wait for the day she moved into her first home. Sweet independence.
Late the next afternoon at a cabin that he was thinking of renting, Burke hid his aggravation over Walachek under a noncommittal mask. The dapper, silver-haired owner named Bruno interrupted Burke's thoughts, showing a reluctant Nicky and him the utility room. In court today, how could the judge justify what he'd done? He and Rodd would just have trouble with Walachek again. The man was a trouble waiting to happen. It was just a matter of time.
Burke tried to bring his mind back to looking over the house. Until they found something to rent, his boss Rodd had arranged for Burke and Nicky to stay with Harlan Carey. But they couldn't board at Harlan's forever.
"Here's the water heater and propane furnace," Bruno said. " I usually heat with the wood in the fireplace. It saves money and I enjoy watching the fire. But you're both young and you'll be out on the job and at school, not sitting home by the fire."
Burke nodded.
"Well, I'm going out to the garage and pack some tools I want to move over to my bride's house. I'll let you get a feel for the place. You could move in the day of my wedding. In fact, I wish you would, so the place will be occupied." In his seventies, the man was going to marry a second time. Definitely braver than Burke. He wondered why a man would chance marriage after losing a wife. But Burke thanked him as he left. Then Burke looked over his shoulder. "So what do you think, Nicky?"
"I'm not Nicky. I haven't been Nicky for years," the teen replied with a surly edge.
"Sorry. I'll try to remember it's Nick." He didn't want to irritate his nephew. The years of Nick's growing up had gone so fast. His slip in calling Nick the childish nickname showed just how far he'd kept himself from his nephew in the recent past. "We would be renting it furnished—"
"It only has one bedroom." Nick glared at him—as usual.
The three-room cabin was just a large kitchen-sitting room, a bedroom, and a bath. "I was going to get myself a daybed for that wall in the living room." Burke pointed to the back wall. "You'd have the bedroom."
His nephew looked surprised. "How come?"
"Because you're at that age. You need privacy."
Nick snorted. "Yeah, right. This little house will be private all right."
Burke ignored Nick's sarcasm. The cabin with its log walls had a cozy feel and was spotless, scrubbed to within an inch of its life. "You're staying for the year with me so get used to it."
Nick lifted a shoulder to him. "I like it at Harlan's. He says he's been really lonely since his dog died this summer. He likes having us. Why can't we stay at his house?"
"Because we need to have a place of our own." That wasn't exactly accurate. Burke was the one who needed a place of his own.
After living alone for nearly five years, he couldn't get used to living in someone else's house with two other people. It made him jumpy—never being by himself. If he rented this place, then he'd only have to deal with Nick. Better odds."My crazy hours aren't good for Harlan. I know he waits up for me when I'm on night duty," Burke relented. "I know you'll have to give up using Harlan's truck and ride the bus to school—"
"No, I won't. He says I can use his truck."
The image of the battered red truck that Nick had driven here came to Burke's mind. "Why?"
"He's gotta have cataract surgery sometime soon. He can't drive until he recovers from that. He says I can use his pickup for school if I come over and cook him dinner when you're on evening duty, and I gotta take him to the clinic when he has an appointment and drive him to the grocery store. But I think we should stay with him. It's a bigger house." Nick glared at Burke, looking as though he expected a fight.
Something in Nicky's—Nick's—voice alerted Burke. Should they stay with Harlan? The only time Nick smiled or relaxed was when he talked with the older man. Burke recalled that Nick still got along with his grandfather in Milwaukee. Maybe he shouldn't uproot Nick a second time. "We can talk about this again later. We don't have to make a snap decision."
Nick's face showed his surprise at his uncle's accommodating reply. "You mean it? You're not just saying it?"
"I never 'just say' anything."
"Okay." Nick studied him.
"How's it going at school?" Burke ventured to ask. Trying to be a parent was akin to walking into an unfamiliar darkened room.
Nick shrugged. "There's a kid who thinks he owns the place. A real jerk."
"The kind you want to steer clear of?" Burke offered his advice in an offhand voice.
"Don't worry about that. He's related to some big shot in town. I'm not impressed. Hey, if we're done here, I'm heading into town then. I gotta get some more school supplies."
"Go ahead. Just remember we're expected at the sheriff's for supper tonight with Harlan."
Nick nodded and left.
Watching Nick drive away in Harlan's truck, Burke was grateful that Nick had taken a liking to Harlan. Maybe the older man would have better luck reaching Nick. Burke's conscience crimped painfully. Can I still make a difference with Nick?. Reconnecting with Nick was his job. The local pastor's Sunday sermon had reminded him of that.
Burke hadn't thought about attending church here. Not until Sheriff Rodd Durand, Burke's old friend who'd asked him to interview for the deputy sheriff position here, had invited him to go that first Sunday.
In Milwaukee, Burke had attended church infrequently, chalking it up to his crazy work schedule. But here, Nick's presence had made it necessary for him to change that. So Burke—with Nick in tow—had accepted Rodd's invitation to church.
And the sermon had been like a finger pointed straight into Burke's heart. The pastor had recounted the story of Cain and Abel, a story of a man who hadn't wanted any restraints from God or family.
Guilt stirred the embers in Burke's stomach. Cain's disrespectful question to God reared in his mind: "Am I my brother's keeper?" It echoed Burke's own previous excuses for not helping Nick. In the past two years, he'd failed his sister and Nick. Would Burke's attention now be too little, too late? Would Nick settle into the high school here? How would this all end?
6:34 p.m.
That evening, Keely walked from the high school to the busy LF Cafe and ordered a chefs salad to go. She didn't want to face going home. Her family drama had stepped up.
Complaining of frazzled nerves, her mother had this afternoon flown out of the small airport in the next county. Her destination was her favorite California spa for a week's stay. At home, her father would be brooding about Grady, who'd been grounded tonight for staying out too late. Who could blame her from steering clear of home sweet home? Besides, she had enough paperwork to keep her busy all evening. For no reason at all, Burke Sloan's face came to mind—again.
Avoiding this, Keely tuned back into the present. The plump, middle-aged cashier bagged the salad and packets of dressing
and handed over the sack and Keely's change. "I really appreciate all the extra work you do, like this—working late."
The woman's compliment took Keely by surprise. "Thank you."
"No, thank you. You really came through for my niece Carrie last night. Maybe you didn't remember, but her mother was my sister." The woman pursed her lips as though checking a show of emotion and then continued. "Anyway, I'm glad her father had to cool his heels in jail last night."
The mention of Walachek triggered a sinking feeling. Last night had been awful. But Keely only nodded. "Bye."
"Night." The woman waved. "Take care of yourself. Don't work too hard!"
The kind words lifted Keely's spirits. Burke Sloan's voice played in her mind. Not the words, just his calm tone and even delivery. He'd been a rock last night. As she walked through the quiet dusky streets back to school, a red truck sped by, swirling up a few dry leaves from the gutter.
Reaching the school, she unlocked one of the front doors, the one nearest her office and then she locked herself inside. Tonight was one of those rare nights when no school practice or activity was being held. After last night, she looked forward to a peaceful evening. It would be good to get some work done—all alone in the school—even if the quiet was almost eerie....
6:45 p.m
Burke lounged at the table in the Durand kitchen, trying not to show his worry. So far Nick had yet to show. What was the kid up to?
Rodd and Wendy Durand, newlyweds, had invited Harlan—who happened to be Wendy's grandfather—Nick and him over for supper. When Burke and Nick had moved in to board with Harlan, they both had been taken in like family.
Wendy put a pan of biscuits into the oven, and Rodd took the opportunity to steal a kiss. Though blushing, Wendy paused to kiss him back.
"You two youngsters," Harlan scolded with a big grin, "hold up on that lovey-dovey stuff. You got company."
Burke felt like rubbing his eyes and taking another look. Rodd Durand had been one of his closest buddies in Milwaukee. A good part of that had come from the fact that neither of them was married or looking for a wife. But that had changed. Rodd was "definitely" a married man now. For some reason, Ms. Turner's face popped into Burke's mind.
In this cozy setting, Burke increasingly was having a hard time not letting his irritation and anxiety show. After leaving the cabin they'd been looking at, Nick had gone AWOL in Harlan's old red truck. Nick should have been back by now. Why wasn't he? And where was he? Should Burke go after him? Being responsible for another person, a teen, was new to Burke. Is this just the usual with teens or should I be concerned?
Shaking these questions off, he stood up, walked over to the stove, and poured himself another cup of coffee from the percolator.
"I could have done that for you, Burke," Wendy said, stirring the fragrant beef stew in the skillet.
"No problem." Burke reached for the creamer. Rodd's wife had short, golden brown hair. The image of Keely Turner with her long hair came to Burke's mind again. Where was she, and was she having a better evening than he was? He hoped so. He'd wanted to ask Rodd for more background about Ms. Turner but hesitated. He didn't pry into people's lives.
But Keely Turner had made him curious. She'd been on his mind all day because of what he'd overheard last night after he'd followed her home. What had all the shouting at her door been about? He'd walked up to her door simply trying to return a tube of lipstick that must have dropped out of her pocket outside. But the sound of raised voices and a glimpse through the side glass by the front door had revealed two adults and a teen— Keely's parents? A teenaged brother?
Their loud unpleasant discussion had turned him around and back to his Jeep. He hadn't wanted to embarrass Keely by knocking. And judging from the heated exchange at the Turners' last night, he wasn't the only one having trouble handling a teen. But yelling didn't help. Where are you, Nick, and what are you up to?...
7:01 p.m.
Listening to her footsteps echo in the silent hallway, Keely entered the outer office in the principal's reception area. She locked that door before going into her own office. Taking these precautions in a little town like LaFollette was probably ludicrous. But the contrast between busy, noisy daytime and quiet, solitary evening at the school made her nerves edgy. During school hours, this building didn't feel large enough for all the young people who ran through the hallways, calling to each other, slamming lockers, racing to class before the raucous bell rang. Empty now, it felt like a mausoleum.
She shook her head and smiled. At least my imagination is still working. She laid out her supper on her desk. Her cell phone rang.
"Hi, Keely? Penny here." Penny Weaver, the local pastor's wife, was on the board of the Family Closet, the local non-profit thrift store. " Just wanted to let you know that the girl you called me about came in today and signed up for help and for mothering classes."
"Great." Satisfaction at helping another young single mom flowed through Keely.
"Yes, she asked to volunteer when you're on duty."
"Poor girl," Keely quipped. "I had her as a student my first year teaching at the high school. You'd think she'd remember what a slave driver I am."
"You would say that." Pause. "I thank God every day—"Penny's voice had become serious—"for the Family Closet, Keely. It's doing so much good for so many. I wish you'd let me tell people that you're the one who —"
"You're the one," Keely said, cutting Penny off, "who had the idea for it, and some anonymous donor bought the house. I'm just the organizer, right?"
"Very well." Penny sounded resigned. "If that's what you say."
"That's what I say."
"Keely, have you figured out who dug the holes in the athletic field where the girls were trying otu for the cheerleading squad yet?"
"No." The person had covered up the holes with sod and one of the cheerleaders has sprained an ankle. Keely hoped that whoever had done that wouldn't be setting any more traps. "It could have been one of the girls who doesn't have a chance to make the squad. Jealousy."
"Yeah, kids feel everything so much more. They're like raw nerves."
"Too true." Keely glanced at the big round clock on the wall. "Sorry, Penny, but I've got work to do."
After Penny's goodbye, Keely began eating forkfuls of the crisp salad she'd brought along. She thought about Penny's mention of the Family Closet. People were able to buy good used items there and that money made it possible to help out young mothers with diapers and mothering classes and anything else they needed. Maybe now as principal of the high school and with Family Closet carrying out its purpose, she could banish the guilty feeling that she, a Turner, had more to do—always more to do. She knew it was irrational but it never left her.
Out of the blue she wondered where Burke Sloan was tonight. Pushing away this errant thought and the memory of Walachek's angry face last night, Keely began reading the latest education bulletin from the State of Wisconsin....
7:25 p.m.
"My stomach's beginning to rumble, Wendy," Harlan complained with a big grin.
Wendy pointed her wooden spoon at her grandfather."You keep talking like that and you'll be washing the dishes."
Looking pleased, Harlan grumbled unconvincingly.
With his coffee cup in hand, Burke watched the byplay. The kitchen was warm from the oven and from the obvious love that Rodd, Wendy, and Harlan had for each other. He'd become aware of things like family again but only recently. And much too late. He'd suddenly realized he had for years been drifting away from his parents and brothers and sister. His disconnecting from his family had crept up on him over the past decade, and he hadn't realized just how isolated he'd become until his decision to move had unleashed such furor.
At the end of July, his parents and sister had been stunned and then very vocal about his decision to take Rodd's offer and move here to Steadfast and become a deputy. He'd been taken aback by their reaction. After all, they were all adults and had their own lives, right? But the
y had told him it was the final betrayal, that he hadn't been a part of the family since Sharon died... Burke stopped this line of thought right there.
Despite this opposition, Burke had gone ahead with his plans to leave Milwaukee. He'd wanted to join Rodd here. But the move hadn't gone quite as he had planned. His mother had finally taken the gloves off, confronting Burke because he had refused to help his newly divorced sister. After Nick had gotten into trouble in high school, she'd asked him to take Nick with him to Steadfast. Dereliction, his mom had called it.At least, that's how she had seen it. And his mom hadn't taken no for an answer. Nick needed help, a strong male influence and his mom had decided Burke was the one for the job. His dad's health rendered him not up to the task of riding herd on a troubled teen. Burke had tried to reason with them, but his sister's job had suddenly included traveling three weeks out of every month. Nicky couldn't be left alone.
In the end, Nick had come with Burke to Steadfast. Why had everyone thought Burke could make a difference with Nick? He hadn't been close with his nephew since the kid had been in grade school. A twinge of guilt ended this line of thought. How had he let himself get so cut off from his family? The answer to that was all too easy. But he didn't want to think about that now.
He turned back to the present, tuning in on the conversation flowing around him, trying to ignore his mounting frustration with Nick's tardiness.
"The Weavers only kept Carrie one night." Wendy was slicing tomatoes from Harlan's garden. " This morning she went to live with an aunt in LaFollette so she'd remain in the same school district." She glanced at Burke. Had she noticed his attention wandering? "The aunt is going to try to get custody. And I'm afraid that it will take a few days before Carrie's face heals. Poor kid."
Thinking of Walachek added to the low burn in Burke's mid-section.