a cow.
Its leg looked a bit funny.
She checked her line of kids. Four kids. Four boards with paint, four brushes, four makeshift easels. Intense concentration. Good.
Four o’clock. How long before she called someone in?
She looked across at Wendy who was working with almost desperate absorption.
Donald, Bryce and Abby were silent, too.
Damn him. What was he playing at?
She should call…
Wendy looked across at her, her eyes pleading.
Not yet.
Pierce was struggling to stay under the speed limit as he and Bessy flew homeward. Bessy was rested and cheerful, crowing in delight at the soothing feeling of wind against her increasingly itchy skin.
Pierce might have rested but he didn’t feel rested. He’d left them for an hour hoping the woman—who was it? Shannon? No, Shanni—would arrive.
Even if she had arrived, she’d be long gone by now. The kids would be terrified.
He turned the last curve—and there was a police car in the yard.
The police…
It’d be the pharmacist, he thought, remembering the prissy set to the man’s mouth as he’d handed over Bessy’s medicine. The whole town thought these kids would be better off in care. And now…
‘I’ve stuffed it big time,’ he told Bessy as he lifted her from the car. ‘I don’t deserve to have you guys.’
Where was everybody?
Two policemen appeared from behind the hayshed.
Accompanied by a redhead.
A woman. Small. Slim. Faded jeans. Bright red windcheater, splodged with green paint. A yellow bandana catching back shoulder-length flaming curls. Green paint smeared on a snubbed nose. Freckles.
Memory stirred. One of Ruby’s family weddings. A nightmare of being alone. A kid the same age as him, taunting, ‘He’s one of Aunty Ruby’s strays. He’s a bastard. Bastard, bastard, bastard.’
Then a skinny little girl, dressed in a scarlet party frock and with a huge pink bow in her flaming hair, marching up to her big cousin and stomping hard on his foot. So hard the kid had yelped.
‘Gee, I’m sorry, Mac,’ she’d said, and she hadn’t sounded sorry at all. Then she’d turned to him and smiled. ‘Hi. My name’s Shanni. What’s yours?’
He’d remembered. That tiny piece of kindness and bravado had stayed with him, to be used as an inward smile at need.
Could this really be her?
‘Pierce, dear, we’re over here,’ she said, smiling brightly and waving to him like he was her long-time cousin. ‘How’s our darling Bessy? Did you get the things I wanted from the store?’
‘Um…hi,’ he said weakly, and the memory of the stomping was suddenly crystal clear.
Amazingly the cops were smiling as well. Pierce recognized them—an older cop who had family in the town, and a younger guy whose stock in trade was aggression. They’d been here two weeks ago with the child welfare officers.
They’d left then looking grim. They weren’t looking grim now. The younger guy was smiling almost fatuously, and the older guy was looking on with benign amusement.
‘So, Friday night…’ the young cop said to Shanni.
‘Can I let you know?’ Shanni said. ‘I need to sort out rosters with my cousin. It wouldn’t do to leave the kids by themselves.’
Ouch.
‘We’ll see you round, then,’ the older cop said benignly. ‘Good luck with that cow, miss. I’m sure you’ll get that leg right in the end.’
‘I’ll ring you on Friday,’ the young cop said, waving a slip of paper. ‘Thanks for your number. I won’t lose it.’
They waved to Pierce in friendly salute. They climbed into the police car, and they were gone.
Leaving Pierce with Shanni.
CHAPTER TWO
‘UM…YOU’RE Shanni,’ he said, and he sounded dumb.
‘You think?’ Shanni said, arching her eyebrows. She’d stopped walking toward him the minute the police car left the yard. She didn’t come one inch closer. ‘You might want to check. After all, it’s important to be sure who you leave in charge of your children.’
‘Look, I…’
The bouncing smile and the charm were put carefully aside. ‘What the hell are you playing at? Wendy’s terrified. I came within an inch of telling those policemen that these kids would be better off in foster care. What sort of a father are you? Where the hell have you been?’
He focused on the one tiny thing he had control over. ‘Do you mind watching your mouth? I’m teaching them not to swear.’
She took a deep breath. ‘You are kidding?’ she said at last. ‘Abandoned, starving kids being taught not to swear.’
‘They’re not starving.’
‘So what did you leave them for lunch?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, forcing his dazed brain to think. ‘There’s eggs, steak, sausages, frozen chips…’
‘All of which require a stove,’ she said dangerously.
‘We’ve got a stove.’
‘And the kids were going to light it how?’ Shanni was looking at him like he was something that had crawled out of cheese.
‘Look, I went to sleep.’
‘Really?’ She raised one quirky eyebrow. ‘You had a little nap. So your kids starved.’
‘Kids don’t starve from missing lunch.’
She glared.
‘Dad,’ said a small voice, and it was Wendy, approaching from behind Shanni.
She stayed behind Shanni. She didn’t come near. It was like she was using Shanni as a shield.
The weight around his heart grew heavier. He’d let Wendy down. This puny kid who had the weight of the world on her shoulders. He’d been gaining her trust. A little.
‘Hell, Wendy…’
‘Don’t swear in front of the children,’ Shanni said icily.
‘Look, I fell asleep,’ he said desperately. ‘I didn’t sleep at all last night. Wendy, tell her I didn’t sleep. I had to take Bessy to the doctor’s, and then I had to wait for the prescription to be filled. I sat in the car and waited because you can’t leave kids alone in the car, and I just slept.’ He spread his hands. He might never convince Shanni, he thought, but it was Wendy who was important.
There was a lengthy pause while Wendy considered. Shanni remained silent.
‘He really didn’t sleep last night,’ Wendy said at last, talking to Shanni. ‘Maybe he didn’t sleep the night before, either,’ she added. ‘I had a nightmare and woke up. He made me hot chocolate.’
Shanni’s iciness thawed, just a little. ‘You’re saying he has an excuse?’
‘He looks awful,’ Wendy said.
‘He does,’ Shanni agreed. ‘When did he last shave?’
‘He looks okay when he’s shaved,’ Wendy said. ‘Or when he’s a little bit bristly. He’s too bristly now.’
This sisterhood thing