“I have a vehicle. I can meet you if that’s easier.”
“Good. There’s a restaurant just down the way, the Miner’s Lamp Café and—”
“I just ate lunch there.” No way did Jesse want to return. “Look, there’s a park across the street. I can see some picnic tables.”
“It will take me about twenty minutes,” Jacob said.
“Thank you.” Jesse handed the phone back to the girl, grabbed two bottled waters from the case, and then paid for them and a candy bar for Timmy.
Jesse noticed that Timmy waited until he thought Jesse wasn’t looking and put the candy bar in one of his pockets.
Jesse’d done that a time or two also, saving food for later in case mealtimes became sporadic or nonexistent.
“It will melt,” Jesse told him. Then he handed Timmy a dollar. “Go ahead and enjoy your candy bar. If you find you need another one later, you can buy one. Never steal.”
Never steal, never steal, never steal.
Timmy took the money and put it in the pocket with the candy bar, which he still made no move to eat.
Wherever Susan and Timmy had been, it must not have been Arizona in July. Well, based all on the things that had gone wrong today, a little melted chocolate would be the easiest to fix.
There were two boys already at the park, both older than Timmy. They didn’t really play on the equipment. They were more interested in chasing, pushing each other to the ground and roughhousing. Timmy didn’t even look at them. Instead, he sat in the sand, found an old plastic spoon and began digging.
Jesse watched him, wondering what on earth he was going to do with a kid. At this moment, he wasn’t sure if he even remembered how to take care of himself. One thing about prison—you were told what to do and when to do it, and knew the consequences if you got caught not complying.
Tomorrow Jesse needed to drive into Phoenix and meet his parole officer. Now that would be fun. Good old Child Protective Services would get involved, and one more government organization would be breathing down Jesse’s neck.
If they didn’t take Timmy away entirely. He already dreaded the thought of each and every hoop he’d need to jump through.
July in Arizona was unrelenting. The heat pressed down, and Jesse felt sweat trickling over his shoulder blades. Timmy didn’t seem to notice or care. The plastic spoon broke. Timmy left it where it was and dug with his hands instead. He looked like he was on a mission.
Maybe he wanted to escape.
Jesse could sympathize with the sentiment, but after five years of confinement, Jesse found that finally being in a wide-open space was so overwhelming, he couldn’t breathe.
Everything he’d dreamed for the past few months was shattering around him. He’d left prison with a set of goals cemented in his mind, and already those goals were being either erased or challenged.
He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to make new ones or even battle for the old ones.
No, he couldn’t think that way. He’d come too far.
But, really, Jesse couldn’t think of a worse day to gain a son, especially a son who didn’t talk.
“You thirsty?” Jesse asked.
Timmy ignored him.
Jesse thought back to the past three months. He’d kept waiting for someone to say, “There’s been a mistake. You won’t be paroled.” When he’d asked Mike Hamm for a scripture, Mike had turned to Joshua: “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”
Amazing how a few words from God could help.
Amazing how they’d helped more during incarceration than now.
The street remained empty. Everyone was at work or at home in the air conditioning. Even the little boys who were wrestling had reached their limit and were trudging across the parking lot.
He thought about the woman from the restaurant, the one who’d watched the latest chapter in his life unfold, and wondered what kind of life she had. She didn’t seem the kind who needed a hand up. No, she’d been driving a huge truck. And her build had been strong, sturdy—not frail and wispy like Matilda or Susan.
She was probably heading to some nice, comfortable home, where family waited and the biggest conflict was whether the television was turned to a do-it-yourself show or a Hallmark movie. Jesse could barely even picture what that sort of life would be like.
A dark blue truck pulled into the dirt lot by the park. This town was hopping with trucks—his little Chevy definitely said “tourist.” Jesse started to stand, hoping it was Jacob, but then the two little boys, who’d been all the way to the street turned and ran to the pickup.
Sitting back down, Jesse watched as they attacked the man, who looked a little old to be their father, grabbing him around the legs as he stepped down from his truck and yelling, “Howdy, Mr. Jacob!”
Jesse again stood.
The man wore jeans, a tucked-in, long-sleeve shirt and an old brown hat. He reached in his pocket and pulled out two pieces of what had to be candy as he asked, “How’s your mother?”
“Sleeping. She told us to get out of the house cuz we kept waking her up.”
Jacob said, “I’ll see about having you come out to the ranch one day next week. You can do some riding and help out a bit.”
“Yeah!”
The two boys ran off, possibly to tell their mother, possibly to keep Jacob from changing his mind.
Grabbing a folder from somewhere on the front seat, Jacob closed his truck’s door and ambled over to where Jesse waited.
“Park’s a mighty strange place for a meeting. The restaurant would have been nicer, cooler. We could have had tea.” He stuck out his hand.
Jesse awkwardly took it. Handshaking wasn’t something he’d done much of lately. “Yes, well, we’d already eaten and—”
Jacob looked at Timmy and then back at Jesse. “You never said anything about a kid.”
“This is my son. When my mother picked me up this morning, she introduced me to him. Before then, I didn’t know he existed, and...” Jesse’s voice trailed off as he tried to think of the best way to phrase the rest of it.
“And?” Jacob prompted him. He wasn’t exactly frowning. He had more of a here-we-go-again look on his face.
“When she dropped me off at the restaurant, she left Timmy.”
One of Jacob’s eyebrows raised. “For good?”
“Apparently.”
“Are you saying that the single ranch hand I hired really isn’t single?” Jacob started shaking his head. “The position’s not meant for a family man.”
Jesse swallowed, and thought back to the Bible verse: Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
In a voice stronger than he felt, Jesse said, “Sir, it looks like I’m a family man for a while, but that won’t keep me from doing exactly what you expect me to do. I’m a hard worker. Timmy doesn’t take up much room, he’s quiet, and we’d both appreciate a chance. I promise you there’ll be no problems.”
Jacob still shook his head and stood. “Your quarters would be a room, one room, in the sleeping quarters with the other two hands. That’s no place for a kid.”
“It’s better than the car where we’ll be sleeping