“Have you forgotten what he did to us after Dad died?” Lucy hated saying the words, bringing the memory up front like this. It made her stomach hurt. It made her want to do over last night and let Walter sit in pain on the kitchen floor for another couple of hours.
“I have forgotten nothing.” Sandra’s tone of voice made her seem a foot taller. “But the man has a sprained foot, Lucy. When did you get so hard-hearted?”
“Me?” Lucy gaped at her mother. “It’s not like I’m saying let’s leave him in the mountains to die. I’m saying you’ve done enough, Mom.”
“How about this,” Sandra said. “We stay until they hire someone Walter can live with to take care of him.”
“That will be forever.”
And that suits your purposes just fine, a dark voice said. Three more weeks of not having to face up to the mess you made in Los Angeles. Why are you fighting this?
Sandra licked her lips. “I’ll…I’ll do what I can to hurry it along.”
“What does that mean?”
“Walter doesn’t want me here, not really. And when reminded of that, he’ll…” She shrugged. “He’ll agree to have someone else help him.”
Lucy wasn’t going to ask for more information. She had enough problems of her own without digging into Walter’s issues with Sandra.
“Okay, three weeks. That’s as long as we’re staying. I swear, Mom, if I have to drag you—”
Mom lifted a hand, her face unsmiling.
Right, Lucy thought, Mom didn’t get dragged. She went willingly or not at all.
“Three weeks should be sufficient,” Sandra said.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” Lucy said. “And then I’ll talk to Mia and Jack about getting a nurse.” She grabbed her bag and headed out into the sunny morning.
Once in town, she used what money she had left in her wallet to get gas. She was going to have to get a job soon. Or sell the condo, but she needed to talk to Sandra about that, since she helped put down the deposit, and that was a conversation she wasn’t quite ready to have.
Then she drove by her Civic at the bar just to make sure it was still there. It was. Dusty and red and old. Reese could drop her off here after she returned the car.
She stared at her car for a while, stalling for time, reluctant to go up to Stone Hollow and pretend like that sad desperate kiss had never happened with Jeremiah. Because that was really the only thing to do.
Life sure has gotten complicated in the past twenty-four hours. She sped out of town, opening the engine up over the pass in a fond goodbye.
She could use a car like this to outrun all the problems after her. Hell, a car like this she could sell and solve most of her problems.
The parking area in front of Jeremiah’s house was empty and she nearly sang a little song of relief. No brooding cowboy problem. Huzzah.
Once out of the car, she knocked on the door to the house and waited. A long time. She cupped her hands around her eyes and peered through the glass, trying to see signs of life.
Suddenly, there was thump that shook the door. Wary, she stepped back and a small face covered in what looked like grape jelly appeared in the window. A little boy with brown curly hair. His blue eyes not unlike Jeremiah’s.
“It’s a girl!” the boy yelled over his shoulder, the sound muffled by the door. Someone over the boy’s shoulder must have said something because he nodded and turned back to face her.
“Do we know you?” he asked.
“I’m your neighbor.”
“No, you’re not. Mia is our neighbor.”
“I’m Mia’s sister.”
The boy seemed to process that and he turned to yell something over his shoulder.
“What’s your name?” he asked when he turned back around.
“Lucy.”
His face split in a wide grape-jelly smile and Lucy felt herself smile in return. Heartbreaker.
“My friend Willow has a dog named Lucy,” he yelled through the glass.
“That’s great, buddy, is your uncle here?”
“No.”
She blinked. “Are you here by yourself?”
The door thumped again and the little boy vanished only to be replaced by a slightly older boy. Under his dark hair, dark eyes narrowed in an attempt to be threatening. It was oddly effective. Troublemaker.
“I’m going to need to see some ID,” the boy said, and she laughed before she realized he was serious. She pulled her driver’s license out and pressed it up to the glass.
The boy studied it and then looked back up at her with his simultaneously young and old eyes. “You here to rob us? ’Cause there’s nothing here to rob. Not even a video game or computer.”
She shook her head.
“You going to kidnap us?”
“What? No!”
“Because you don’t want to kidnap Casey,” the boy said. “He wets the bed.”
“I do not!” a little voice yelled, and the boy jostled and grinned down at Casey, who hit him.
“I’m not kidnapping anyone.”
“That’s the sort of thing a kidnapper would say.”
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but she had no comeback. This boy totally had the better of her. Instead, she held up the keys. “I’m here to give Reese his car back.”
The boy looked down, presumably at his brother, and she had to admit this was the strangest, yet most thorough, interrogation she’d ever been a part of.
There was another thump and the older boy vanished seconds before the door opened.
The two boys stood barefoot in the doorway and somehow the sight of those small pink toes on the edge of the welcome mat brutally reminded her of their situation. Orphans.
“Where’s your uncle?”
“He’s picking up Aaron from hockey practice,” Casey said, and the older boy punched him in the arm.
“You’re not supposed to say that sort of stuff, remember? We’re supposed to say he’s in the shower.”
“Sorry.” Casey’s lower lip started to shake. “I forgot. There are so many rules now.”
“I’m Lucy,” she said quickly, holding out her hand to the little boy, who grabbed it and shook using his whole body.
“I’m Casey. I’m five.”
“Wow,” she said, putting on a show of being impressed. “Big boy.” She turned to the older boy, who still watched her with suspicion. Which she supposed was a good thing in this situation, but it made the boy look disturbingly old. “Who are you?”
“Ben.” He crossed his arms over his chest, effectively ending that discussion.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you guys. Is Reese here?”
Casey shot his brother a panicked guilty look but Ben just jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
Lucy stepped past the boys into the living room, which no longer looked like the love scene between a Laundromat and a sporting goods store. Reese was still there, a quilt-covered blob on the couch. But he wasn’t just covered by a quilt anymore.
Balanced all