Like a Love Song

by Camille Eide

  Sue snorted. “This is lame.”

  “A one-day outing, with me along to make sure you have fun, or no deal.”

  She let out a huff that could probably be heard all over the compound. “You’d hold a poor, compulsive kid over my head for a date?”

  “It’s not a date. Just … a friendly little outing. And like I said, I’ll plan it. All you have to do is go along for the ride and relax.”

  Relax? “This is not exactly the best time for me to be taking a day away. I’ve got the fundraiser to pull off, the kids, the temps …” Not to mention hanging on to my sanity, keeping everything together, trying to figure out your twisted game …

  “After the fundraiser, then.” Joe crossed his python arms and waited.

  There had to be a whole warehouse of laws somewhere against being forced into spending time with a guy who looked like he could shred a semi with his bare hands. Hands she needed now or there wouldn’t be much of a fundraiser. “Two hours, tops. After the fundraiser. And Chaz is your shadow from now on.”

  He crammed his hands in his pockets. “Half a day.”

  A growl escaped her clenched teeth. “Fine.”

  Joe smiled. “Deal.”

  Sue headed for the main house. What in the world had she just agreed to?

  * * *

  After breakfast Monday morning, Joe went to the study to use the Internet, but some kids were doing schoolwork there. Instead, he hung out in the dining hall and called the deputy who was working on recovering Joe’s stolen stuff.

  Same news as always—no word. And this time, the deputy added he didn’t expect to see any of Joe’s stuff recovered at this point.

  As soon as the room cleared of kids, Joe pulled up a chair to the computer and searched for an apartment in a good neighborhood for John and Fiona. One that was clean and wheelchair accessible and not too expensive. The sooner he got them moved, the better he’d feel. Unfortunately, it would be a while before he started pulling in oil rig pay. An apartment, utilities, and a housekeeper-caregiver was going to eat through his savings pretty quick.

  He spent an hour searching through every rental in Bend until he found a ground-level, handicap-accessible apartment near the bus line and markets. The rent was steeper than he’d budgeted for, but it would have to do. He also got a lead on a woman who could come twice a week to cook and clean, but he didn’t want to send her until he got John and Fiona out of that toxic dump they were in. He would see John after work and make sure the old man knew he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Joe could get them moved within a couple of weeks.

  With the fundraiser coming up on Saturday, Joe’s next order of business was getting Chaz’s handiwork put back together, with the kid’s help. Joe’s end of the bargain with Sue.

  His “just for fun” bargain.

  What on earth had he been thinking?

  Show her My love.

  Yeah, that had to be it, because there was nothing earthly about the scheme. It had been one of those impulses that came on the breath of divine inspiration. It wasn’t a date. He had enough sense to know that it was a God thing—it had nothing to do with himself. Surely God wanted to pursue Susan Quinn, draw her close, and shower her with His amazing love and faithfulness. Joe was just … helping.

  Right. Like God needed Joe Paterson’s help wooing a woman.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Monday evening, Sue spent hours on the phone drumming up more donations for the sale. On Tuesday, a windfall landed in the form of an old four-wheeler and other items from a local estate sale. Sue caught herself smiling. A seed of hope had settled in her heart and put down tiny roots.

  Wednesday, Joe went to see one of the farmers in Juniper Valley. When he came back, the sound of kids whooping pulled Sue out of the barn where she was stripping paint from an antique dresser. Joe’s pickup had a long flatbed trailer attached, a stack of lumber piled on it.

  Kids climbed into the truck bed and trailer and bounced until the whole truck-trailer combo rocked like a carnival fun house.

  Joe laughed. “Whoa, guys, easy. The trailer’s on loan.” He gave Jasmine a piggyback ride down from the flatbed.

  Sue made a mental note to remind Joe about not interacting physically with the kids, especially the girls. She took a closer look at the trailer. “Where’d you get it?”

  “Borrowed it from the alfalfa farmer next to us. Max Stewart. Great guy. He said to keep it till we’re done with the fundraiser. Said we could use it to deliver stuff from the sale too, to help get people buying the big items. And he donated this lumber for the sale.”

  Stunned, Sue looked at the lumber, then back at Joe. “Wow, that was really nice of him. And you.” Gratitude swelled in a confusing rush. She couldn’t contain her smile. “Thanks.”

  He stared at her for several seconds, then looked away. “No problem. So I guess we can start hauling stuff down to the grange whenever you’re ready.”

  “Great. And I got some more stuff pledged. If you and some of the guys could pick it up and take it to the grange, that would be a huge help.”

  Chaz hopped down from the flatbed. “Yeah, us men are all over that. You girls can go back in there and keep making cookies. Me and J-man got the heavy stuff.” He gave Joe a complicated series of handshakes and fist bumps.

  J-man. A mysterious twinge skittered across Sue’s chest.

  * * *

  Thursday, Joe and four of the boys spent a full day picking up and dropping off more pledged items. While they were gone, Linda had Cori and Tatiana pricing clothing and cleaning up smaller appliances and household goods. Elena spent the day with Sonja, Haley, Donovan, and Daisy, baking mountains of cookies and packaging them in dozens. Sue, Jasmine, and Brandi worked on refinishing the antique chest of drawers.

  During the work, Jasmine talked nonstop about Cambodia and the day the police took her to the orphanage.

  Sue just listened, enjoying the sound of the girl’s sweetly lilting, broken English.

  “You got busted?” Brandi snickered. “Wait, don’t tell me. You stole a car.”

  Jasmine wiped her glistening forehead with a wrist. “Not car. Motorbike.”

  Brandi’s mouth flopped open. “Dude, I was totally joking. You stole a motorcycle? What are you—like ten? How’d you even ride it?”

  That earned Brandi a glare. “I nine then. Almost fourteen now.”

  Sue’s hand paused. “You’re fourteen?”

  Jasmine nodded and kept sanding.

  Guess I could’ve just asked her.

  The girl’s tiny frame, her slight bone structure … starvation had a way of stunting growth. How long had she lived on the streets?

  Jasmine had acquired survival instincts entirely on her own. And in so few years. Years that should have been spent being a kid.

  Sue resisted a sudden urge to hug the girl. There was nothing to be done about her lost childhood now.

  “So how’d you steal it?” Brandi asked.

  Sue threw Brandi a warning look. “I think it’s time we talk about something else.”

  With a shrug, Jasmine focused on her drawer. “Motorbikes everywhere in Cambodia. I only borrow for little while. To look for my—” Frowning, she bent closer and scrubbed furiously at a dark spot on the wood.

  Wiping dust from the thick, oak dresser top, Sue eyed Jasmine. Would she volunteer the rest?

  Brandi stood and brushed off her knees. “Look for your what?”

  Jasmine blew the dust from the spot she was sanding. “Nobody.” She took a quick peek at Sue. “I not need anyone.”

  A picture of Jasmine scraping by on the streets tugged at Sue again. “Sounds like you managed pretty well on your own.”

  Jasmine shrugged.

  They worked in silence. But when Sue reached for the solvent, she caught a sparkle of tears in Jasmine’s eyes. Sue shoved down a new wave of sorrow. She wouldn’t wish Jasmine’s life on anyone. But at least the girl had learned to survive, gained something useful from it.

&nbs
p; Yeah. Just keep telling yourself that, Sooz.

  By Friday, both the buzz of activity and the volume levels at the ranch had reached head-splitting heights. Joe and a few kids continued to haul goods to the grange. Everyone else finished pricing and boxing up the last of the items. Ringo sniffed and circled the boxes as if giving his final approval.

  Sue phoned a woman at the bank about the payment she planned to make the day after the sale.

  The woman was about as understanding as a speed bump.

  Didn’t matter. Sue had never seen this many good items in any of the ranch’s previous sales. With a decent turnout, they just might pull it off.

  There was one item she’d avoided including in the sale. Her Harley. The thought of selling it had occurred to her more than once over the past several months, but a 1974 Sportster wasn’t worth enough to make a difference in the month-to-month operation. What she needed was a large, dependable increase in monthly income. So she’d clung tightly to that one piece of herself, the only possession she’d ever really cared about. But now, avoiding foreclosure was the immediate issue, and thoughts of selling her bike nagged at her more and more as the sale approached. She tried not to think about it, but the choice between saving the ranch and riding was a no-brainer.

  With any luck, maybe it wouldn’t come to that.

  Sue and her crew finished stacking the last items on the porch just after noon, about the time Bertie and her gang went inside to make lunch.

  Joe and his trio returned from hauling stuff to the grange. “Is that the last of it?” Joe stood in the yard inspecting the neatly stacked boxes.

  “Yeah.” Sonja hopped off the porch. “We worked our tushies off!”

  Edgar, Jasmine, and Cori climbed the lawn toward the house. “Check it out, we got some killer stuff,” Edgar said. “We’re going to be millionaires.”

  Sue hung a cleaning rag on the porch rail and chuckled. “I like how you think, Edgar.”

  “Hey.” Joe nodded at Sue. “It’s looking like a mini-mall down at the grange now. You should come see it.”

  The pleased way Joe said it sent a little thrill through her.

  His humble pride, the joy of accomplishment … it almost seemed like he cared about this place. Like he wasn’t just a temporary handyman, here for a short time before shoving off for bigger and better things.

  Sue brushed the thrill aside. “I’ll head over to the grange after lunch and start setting up tables and stuff.”

  “Nope, Miss Susan, it’s all done.” Cori jumped up and high-fived Joe, sending her black corkscrew curls dancing. “J-man ran us like dogs. We got it all set up.”

  “You did?” Sue’s mouth gaped. How had he pulled that off? But then, she shouldn’t be surprised. Joe was used to running a crew.

  Jasmine took Joe’s hand and towed him toward the porch steps. “Papa Joe need food, Miss Susan. His belly angry.” Jasmine growled with a ferocious face.

  Joe burst out laughing.

  “Papa Joe need food right now or he faint.”

  The others went inside, but Sue stood rooted to the porch, heat crawling up her neck.

  Papa Joe?

  Oh no. Absolutely not. These kids did not need to be reminded of their own absent dads, not when they were doing so well. And more importantly, they didn’t need to go getting attached to a guy who was leaving in a month.

  Still laughing, Joe caught Sue’s eye. His smile faded, and his laughter fizzled out. He stopped at the top step, looking hesitant.

  Jasmine tugged at him. “Come on, Papa Joe. You not hungry now?”

  “Uh, yeah.” His gaze never left Sue’s. “Save me a spot, Jas. I’ll be there in a sec.”

  Jasmine raced into the house, belting out a Beach Boys tune in her little sing-song voice.

  “Something wrong?” Joe planted fists on his hips.

  Sue drew a steady breath. “Did you tell her to call you that?”

  Joe studied her for several seconds, then slowly shook his head. “No, Sue, of course not. She must have overheard me and Edgar talking about nicknames.”

  Cheeks cooking, Sue nodded. “Okay. So I can count on you to discourage that if you ever hear it again?”

  Joe just stood there, searching her in a way that rattled her. “Yeah.” His palms went up in surrender. “Whatever you say.”

  She went inside, awash with jumbled emotions. In the dining hall, she found Jasmine at the end of the line and asked her to come to the office.

  Jasmine hollered at the kids to save a spot in line for Papa Joe and then joined her.

  Sue closed the door and turned to the girl.

  Jasmine’s brow cinched with worry. “You mad, Miss Susan?”

  Shaking her head, Sue searched for the right words. “No. It’s just … there’s something you need to know about Mister Joe. He came here to help us, but only for a little while.” She watched for a reaction.

  Nothing.

  “He has another job. He’s going to work somewhere else.” Not sure if Jasmine understood, Sue pressed on. “So he’ll be leaving Juniper Ranch soon.”

  Jasmine’s face sagged, taking the corners of her mouth down with it. “Leaving?” The worry deepened to a frown. “When?”

  “Next month. Around Christmas, I think.”

  With a scowl, Jasmine folded her wiry arms. “Where he going?”

  And then again, maybe she was making a huge mistake. “His new job is in Louisiana. Far away.”

  “But he have job here. He do good job.”

  “Yes, he does a very good job, but he has to go. It’s a better job. More money.”

  Jasmine didn’t move, only searched Sue’s face, a wounded look on her own.

  Sue reached for Jasmine’s shoulder, but the girl jerked away.

  “Everything about money here,” Jasmine said. “When you go to new job?”

  Sue shook her head. “I’m not going anywhere, Jas.” At least, I hope not.

  Jasmine’s chin jutted up, bringing her dark gaze level with Sue’s. “But parents lie. You tell me that.”

  Sue opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

  “I missing lunch.” Jasmine turned toward the door.

  “Okay. I just wanted to make sure you—”

  But the girl was already gone.

  * * *

  After lunch, everyone worked until the rest of the stacked goods were loaded and strapped onto the flatbed. Sue announced they would take this last load in the morning and thanked everyone for working so hard. As the kids went inside to get ready for dinner, Sue couldn’t help but notice there was still a bit more room on the trailer. Just enough room for a custom-lowered, faithful, old cruiser.

  Bertie secured a corner with a bungee cord and turned to Sue. “Well, boss. Looks like we might have this storm beat.” She patted the trailer.

  “I sure hope so.” Sue turned toward the shop, prodded by a nagging urge to ride.

  Why not? She didn’t have to wear the knee brace anymore. It had been ages since she’d ridden.

  She went into the shop and fired up the Harley, then sighed as she straddled the worn, familiar seat. She’d missed this.

  As Sue strapped on her helmet, Bertie hurried past the shop, hollering and beckoning her to come outside. Leaving the bike idling, Sue took off her helmet and followed.

  Squeals and barks echoed from the volleyball pit.

  Sue hurried down the path behind Bertie.

  Two girls were grappling near the net, arms tangled, hair whipping, scuffling feet kicking up clouds of dust.

  Brandi and Jasmine.

  “Hey! Stop that!” Bertie yelled and hurried toward them.

  Ringo barked and lunged at the girls, dodging blows as Jasmine snarled and kicked. Brandi had a grip on the younger girl’s biceps and was mostly trying to hold her off. Jasmine screeched and swung a foot, connecting with Brandi’s knee.

  “Ow! You little snot!” She swung a knee at Jasmine’s belly. “I’ll kick your teeth in!”

  “Jasm
ine! Brandi!” Sue yelled.

  Bertie grabbed Jasmine and pulled her off, locking her arms in a restraining hold.

  The grunting girl kept kicking, her feet flailing in the air.

  Brandi wiped a bloody scratch on her neck and swore. “What is wrong with her?”

  Jasmine let out a string of ear-piercing screams and jerked her body and head side to side like a caged animal.

  “See?” Brandi held up her bloodied hand. “I told you she’s a freak!”

  “What happened?” Sue asked.

  Bertie kept a tight hold on the thrashing girl.

  “How should I know?” Brandi threw up both hands. “One minute we’re talking about the big sale tomorrow, and the next thing I know, she’s scratching me and screaming like a freakin’ tiger. I didn’t even touch her.”

  “All right, that’s enough. You shouldn’t be down here anyway. Go inside now, Brandi. We’ll take care of it.”

  Brandi marched off in a huff.

  Jasmine’s feet stopped and her body sagged.

  Bertie tried to keep her on her feet.

  Sue shook her head. “It’s okay, let her down, Bert.”

  With a hesitant look, Bertie relinquished her hold on the girl.

  Jasmine crumpled to the ground and hugged herself into a tight ball, rocking in rapid rhythm.

  Sue crouched near the girl, ignoring the burn it caused in her knee. She stroked Jasmine’s ponytailed hair.

  The girl didn’t flinch, didn’t acknowledge the touch.

  “What am I going to do with you, huh?”

  No response.

  Sue had no idea how long the self-calming process would take, so she sent Bertie back to the house and waited, murmuring soothing words. “What’s up, Jas? What got you so upset?”

  Jasmine didn’t answer.

  Patience, Sooz. Jasmine’s adoptive parents probably didn’t have the patience or preparation for this kind of stuff. Too bad. When she wasn’t kicking and clawing and retreating into her safe little ball, Jasmine was an intelligent, engaging girl.

  The rocking continued, followed by a low humming sound. A sound like—