The Lawman's Convenient Family

When Zorro removed his mask, revealing the rest of his face, he was even more handsome than she’d imagined him to be. She stood mesmerized, darn near smitten by a face and persona that were movie-star quality.

The cowboy, who’d been frowning when he’d approached, wasn’t bad looking, either. He tipped his hat to Julie. “Would you mind excusing us, ma’am?”

“No, not at all.” Julie took a step back and glanced at Zorro.

A smile dimpled his cheeks, and little gold flecks in expressive brown eyes sparkled as he handed his mask to her. “Hold this for me. I’ll be back.”

She probably should have corrected his mistake then and there, but for the life of her, she couldn’t seem to utter a single word.

As Zorro followed the cowboy out the side door, Julie held on to his mask as if it were a glass slipper and studied him from behind. He was both gorgeous and charming. A dashing ladies’ man, no doubt. She could tell by his self-assurance and flirtatious manner, both of which were interest-snatching and blood-stirring.

They also set off flashing red warning lights. If there was anything Julie avoided these days, it was suave and flirtatious men who thought they were God’s gift to women.

And Zorro, the handsome devil, was too darn sexy to be heaven-sent.

Chapter Two

As Adam followed his old high school friend away from the dance floor, he glanced over his shoulder and took one last look at Lisa, regretting he’d have to put off getting to know her. At least he’d finally had a chance to meet her.

“I’m sorry I interrupted your dance,” Matt said as they slipped out a side door and headed toward the parking lot.

“So am I. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet that woman, and after holding her in my arms and catching a whiff of her citrusy scent... Hell, I need to get back inside before someone else tries to take up where I left off.”

“Hopefully, you can get to the bottom of that break-in quickly.”

“If I can’t, I’ll call into headquarters and have someone on duty come out here.” Adam needed to get back to that gala. And to Lisa.

The buddies crossed the graveled parking lot, their footsteps crunching on the pulverized granite. Unlike Adam, Matt didn’t look any different tonight than he usually did. He was sporting a pair of new Tony Lama boots, though. And he had on a spiffy new Stetson, too. But that wasn’t surprising. Costume parties weren’t Matt’s style.

And normally, they weren’t Adam’s, either. So he’d planned to cut out early, but after dancing with Lisa, he’d changed his mind. Damn, she felt good—soft in all the right places. And she smelled amazing, too. Her perfume reminded him of lemon blossoms.

Matt came to a stop and pointed to a shiny black Dodge Ram, the new registration sticker still taped to the passenger side of the windshield. “There’s my truck.”

The driver’s door was open, the window shattered. On the seat, amidst shards of broken glass, sat a good-size rock.

“It would have been easy enough for you to check and see if that envelope was still there,” Adam said. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I know how fussy you cops can be about disturbing a crime scene. But something else is definitely missing, which doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“What’s that?”

“My food. I hadn’t eaten since the crack of dawn, so on my way here, I picked up something to tide me over at Bubba’s Burger Barn. The bag was on the passenger seat, and now it’s gone.”

Adam furrowed his brow. “Someone took your leftovers?”

Matt scoffed. “Hell, it wasn’t table scraps. It was a double bacon cheeseburger with large fries, and I didn’t get the chance to take a single bite. I was going to eat it on the way over here, but as soon as I pulled out of the drive-through, my cell phone rang. And by the time the call ended, I’d already arrived at the party. So I decided to check out the fancy, hundred-dollar food first.”

Adam scanned the area. The ground was still damp and a bit muddy from last night’s rain, revealing small shoe prints—two sets, plus paw prints. All of which were fresh.

“Amateurs,” Adam said. “Kids, most likely. Young ones. You mentioned the dog. It might be theirs.”

“I’m pretty sure it was a stray. It had that scruffy, scrawny look. And it was tricolored—black, brown and what might be white if someone gave it a bath. I saw it when I was parking, and then again when I came back outside to eat my burger, which I figured was going to taste a heck of a lot better than those fancy tidbits they were putting out. That’s when I saw that someone had broken into my truck.”

“Did you notice anyone hanging around or hear anything?”

“No, but if they were anywhere nearby, they would have heard my reaction. I just bought that truck last week. So when I saw the broken glass, I swore loud enough to scare off the mutt. If there were kids anywhere around, they probably hightailed it out of here, too.”

Adam reached beneath the seat, retrieved the yellow manila envelope stuffed with cash and handed it to Matt. “You might want to count it.”

He fingered the thickness. “It feels like it’s all here.” Then he looked inside and counted it.

Apparently the young burglars had only wanted the food. Or else they’d been scared off before they could find anything of value.

Call it a hunch, or the memory of his own personal history, but something told Adam those kids were in some kind of trouble and that he’d better find them. And not just to put the fear of the law into them.

“Do you have insurance?” he asked.

“Yeah, but with a big deductible.” Matt swore under his breath. “Why do you think the damn kids did this?”

“I suspect they were hungry.”

Matt seemed to think on that for a couple of beats. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to look for them.” And quickly. He wanted to return to the party before Lisa, the sexy intergalactic goddess, decided to leave.

While Matt remained near his truck, picking up the shards of glass and placing them in a burlap sack he’d found behind the driver’s seat, Adam tracked the small footprints to a wooded area outside the grange hall and continued along the path they’d taken until he reached what appeared to be an abandoned, rusted-out paneled truck.

He didn’t have his gun on him, but his gut told him he wouldn’t need it. His steps slowed as he approached the vehicle. When he got close enough, he peered through the grimy driver’s-side window and spotted a young boy, a smaller girl and a scruffy mutt sitting in the cab sharing Matt’s burger and fries. The kids didn’t look much cleaner or better fed than the dirty dog.

As Adam opened the door, the mutt barked, and the children’s eyes widened in apprehension. The dark-haired boy, who was about six or seven, slipped a bone-thin arm around his little blonde companion.

The moment Adam spotted her bruised cheek and her swollen, split lip, she commanded his full attention.

“Hey, guys.” Adam offered his friendliest smile. “What’s going on?”

Neither child uttered a word. The dog, its fur matted, merely cocked its head.

Adam scanned the interior of the dusty, beat-up vehicle. “This is a cool fort you guys have.”

The kids remained silent, eyes leery. Something had them scared, and Adam doubted it was him.

“I know I’m not wearing a uniform,” Adam said, “but I’m a police officer. And I’d like to help you.”

The boy bit down on his bottom lip and studied Adam carefully, then he lifted his chin. “We ain’t going home. And I’m not telling you where we live, either.”

Kids often ran away from good homes, but given the overall undernourished appearance and defensive nature of these two, instinct told Adam that wasn’t the case. And so did the girl’s injury.

“I figure you two have a good reason for being out here.”

When he was met with tight-lipped silence, he continued his questioning, attempting to be kind and gentle as he ferreted out what he already suspected. “Did someone at your house hurt you?”

“Yeah,” the boy said indignantly. “He hurt my sister just because she peed her pants. It was an accident, and I cleaned it up. But he didn’t care. He still spanked her. And he ain’t even our dad.”

Whether one believed in spanking or not, striking a child in the face was flat-out abuse. And doing so hard enough to leave a mark was criminal.

“Who is he?” Adam asked. “Your dad? Stepdad?”

“No, he’s just a guy. The one who lived with us before our mama went away and didn’t come back. But it’s not like he takes care of us anyway.”

Adam’s gut clenched, and his thoughts took a personal turn as painful memories welled to the surface. He tamped them down the best he could, but his heart went out the poor kids, just as it always did when he came across other abused and neglected children. And he vowed to make sure that, when these two did go home, from now on, it was to a safe place, where a proper guardian would see that they had food to eat, clean clothes to wear and warm beds in which they could sleep.

“What’s the guy’s name?” Adam asked.

“Brady.”

Adam nodded, making a mental note. “And what’s your name?”

Again, the boy bit down on his lip, struggling to be strong. Holding on to his secret. Finally, he looked up and frowned. “If I tell you, are you going to promise to leave us alone and not take us back?”

“I won’t take you back. But I’m not going to leave you alone, either. It’s going to get cold—and it might rain again tonight. You’ll also be hungry by morning.”

Most law enforcement officers would turn the kids over to child protective services and then go about their way.

Sure, they might sympathize and regret the crappy environment those children had once lived in, but Adam wasn’t like the others. Seeing kids who’d been beaten and mistreated hit a little too close to home.

He knew how it felt to be scared and sent to the county receiving home, where kids waited until social services placed them in foster care. Most of the parents were kind and good, but some weren’t. So he hated the thought of turning in the brother and sister to the authorities and leaving them to the luck of the draw.

“My name is Adam,” he told them, “although my friends sometimes call me Pancho.”

The boy furrowed his brow. “Why do they call you that?”

“They were just messing with me, I guess. And the nickname stuck.”

The kid seemed to chew on that for a minute, then said, “I’m Eddie. And this is my sister, Cassie. Are you really going to help us?”

“You bet I am.” And this was one of those times he’d do it in his own way, which meant he’d have to pull a few strings.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Adam turned to see Matt heading toward them.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Adam told his buddy. “I want you to meet my new friends, Eddie and Cassie.”

Matt furrowed his brow, but didn’t comment.

“I’ve got a few calls to make,” Adam said, “but I need you to do me a favor. Would you find Jim and Donna Hoffman and bring them out here?”

“Sure. I’ll do that, but what am I supposed to tell them?”

Adam was about to say that Eddie and Cassie needed a special place to stay tonight, but he suddenly had a light bulb moment. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you bring out Santa and Mrs. Claus. They’ll know just what to do. And I think the kids will feel a lot better about going home with them.”

Matt nodded, then walked back to the Grange Hall.

Adam took a deep breath, then turned back to the kids.

“Do you really know Santa Claus?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, I do.”

Eddie chuffed. “He doesn’t like me or Cassie. He never comes to our house.”

Adam reached into the cab and placed a fatherly hand on Eddie’s small, bony shoulder. “Actually, he really does like you. It’s just that no one told him where you lived.”

The kid looked skeptical. “How do you know that?”

“Because he didn’t come to my house until I was practically grown up. And so one day, when I met him, I asked him point blank why he’d forgotten me. And that’s what he told me.”

Eddie seemed to ponder that explanation.

“Do you live far from here?” Adam asked, hoping to get an idea where he could find Brady.

The boy stiffened. “You said you wouldn’t take us back there.”

“I won’t. But I’d like to let Brady know it’s against the law for him to hit people in the face, especially when they’re smaller than he is.”

“Maybe, if we would’ve run away sooner, and you found us before our mama left, she wouldn’t have had to run away and hide from Brady, either.”

Had the mother left her kids with the abuser and run away without them? It didn’t seem likely, but Adam kept his thoughts to himself until he could investigate this case further.

And when he found Brady, they were going to have a little heart-to-heart, which would end up with Brady wearing cuffs and sitting in the back of a patrol car.

Adam sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp evening air. He wanted to tell them that life was going to get a lot better for them from now on, but he knew better than to make a promise he might not be able to keep. “I know of a perfect place for you two to hang out until something better comes along.”

“What about our dog?” Eddie stroked the dirty critter’s matted hair. “He doesn’t have anyone to take care of him.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Adam studied the scrawny, timid mutt. He’d have to call animal control, although it was after hours, and the stray would probably run off before anyone arrived. “I’ll make sure he gets a bath, a bowl of food and a warm bed—just like you’ll get.”

Eddie’s eyes, while cautious, betrayed hope. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart.” Adam didn’t know exactly how he was going to fulfill that promise, but he’d figure out a way. And once he knew those kids were safe, warm and fed, he’d return to the gala. If he was lucky, he’d be able to spend a little more time with Lisa, the woman he suspected would prove to be his “perfect” match.

Zorro never returned for his mask. In fact, after the cowboy took the Hoffmans outside, they left the party and didn’t come back, either. Julie had no idea what had happened to them or where they’d gone on a Saturday night, but as she’d promised Jim, she drove out to Kidville on Monday morning.

She’d seen pictures on their website. The group home was set up like a small town in the Old West, complete with wooden sidewalks. Various buildings, such as a livery stable, a newspaper office and a hotel, appeared to be authentic in those photos, and she was looking forward to seeing it in person.

While online, she’d also done some research on the Hoffmans. From what she’d gathered, the couple had always dreamed of creating a place in the country where they could provide a safe, loving environment for abused and neglected city kids. After retiring from their county jobs in their mid-fifties, they set their plan in motion, a plan that was nearly two years in the making. Funding had been their biggest stumbling block—and apparently, at times, it still was. But thanks to the help of the community church, the Wexler Women’s Club and the Brighton Valley Rotary, they remodeled the two-story ranch house, got it up to code, painted the barn and set up a playground. Then they added the Old West buildings.

Julie followed the county road about five miles out of town and turned into the drive. When she reached a black wrought iron gate, she used an intercom/phone system to request entrance.

The man who answered her call sounded like Jim Hoffman. “Come on in,” he said. “The administration office is located in the Kidville Hotel.”

Once the wrought iron gate swung open, granting her access to the property, she drove to a graveled lot and parked. She took her purse from the empty passenger seat, then opened the trunk and withdrew her guitar and a case filled with her musical bag of tricks—colorful scarves, kazoos, maracas, miniature tambourines and other rhythm instruments.

Then she locked the car and walked through an arched entryway made of adobe brick. A wooden overhead sign announced: Welcome to Kidville, Texas. Population 134.

Up ahead, she spotted a red schoolhouse. Behind it was a playground with swings, slides and a colorful climbing structure. To the right and left were grassy areas that provided a volleyball court on one side and a baseball field on the other. Kidville was even more appealing than she’d thought it would be. It was a unique setting, and one Julie hoped to be a part of one day soon.

She made her way to the administration office. Once she opened the door, she spotted Mr. Hoffman. The balding, heavyset man might not be dressed as Santa today, but when he greeted her with an easy smile, he still maintained a jolly demeanor.

“Thanks for coming, Julie.” He paused. “It is Julie, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“I’m usually pretty good with names, but I’m afraid things got a little hectic on Saturday night.”

Apparently so. The man and his wife had disappeared about the same time Zorro had, which prompted her to discreetly quiz him about it.

“I was surprised that you left so early,” she said. “I’d planned to introduce myself to your wife, too.”

“We had a little...” He glanced over his shoulder at a closed door, then lowered his voice. “One of our mentors who was attending the gala found a couple of runaways that night. And they were in desperate need of a safe place to live. So my wife and I brought them here. They were pretty frightened and uneasy, so we didn’t want to leave them with our evening staff. So Donna and I stayed with them and helped them get settled.”

Was Zorro the mentor who’d found the kids?

Julie was tempted to ask, but she thought better of getting too specific with her questions and hoped that the head of Kidville would provide her with more information on his own. “It sounds as if you, your wife and that mentor were at the right place and at the right time, Mr. Hoffman.”

“Please, call me Jim. And you’re right. Those kids had been through a lot. But Adam will get to the bottom of it.”

“Adam?” she asked.

Jim nodded. “Adam Santiago. He’s a police officer with Wexler PD. He found the children and realized they needed to be removed from their home.”

Zorro had indicated he was in law enforcement, but hadn’t the cowboy called him Pancho? From her college Spanish class, she’d learned that Pancho was a nickname for Francisco.

A bit confused, Julie said, “I’m glad to know those kids are here with you now. And that they’re safe.”

“So am I. In fact, my wife is talking to them now.” Jim led the way through the reception area, which looked like a cozy living room filled with overstuffed sofas and chairs upholstered in faux leather. “Have a seat.”

Julie placed her guitar case on the floor and, after sitting on the sofa, leaned the instrument against the arm rest.

Mr. Hoffman took a seat on one of the overstuffed chairs. He again glanced at the closed door, then lowered his voice. “The children seemed to connect with Adam on Saturday night. In fact, they didn’t want him to leave. He stayed with them until nearly ten o’clock, then he promised them he’d be back this morning.”

“Wasn’t he able to come Sunday?” she asked. It was what she would have promised them, had she been the one to find them.

“He wanted to investigate their prior living arrangement, and while he told me that he’d try to stop by then, Adam doesn’t make promises he can’t keep. At least, not to any of our children.”

“I can appreciate that.”

“Me, too. Adam was a foster kid himself, so he knows what many of our children have been through and how they feel. He’s been mentoring some of the older boys for the past six months.”

“How are the two new children doing now?” Julie asked. “Are they adjusting?”

“Cassie—she’s the younger one—hasn’t spoken a word since she arrived. And she won’t let go of her brother’s hand. Eddie’s pretty protective of her, but he’s a little skittish around adults.”

“Those poor kids.” Julie’s heart went out to them, and she hadn’t even met them yet.

The door squeaked open, and both Julie and Jim turned and watched a matronly woman walk out. She wore a conservative white blouse, black slacks and a pair of sensible walking shoes. A pair of small black barrettes held the sides of her salt-and-pepper hair in place.

Two children, a small boy with dark hair and a younger blonde girl who clung to his hand, trailed after her, followed by a tall, slender redhead in her late fifties.

She and Jim got to their feet, and he introduced Julie first to his wife Donna, the attractive redhead, then to Lyla Kincaid, the social worker assigned to the children’s case.

They shook hands, and Julie said, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Same here.” Ms. Kincaid smiled, then turned to the children. “I’ll see you in a few days. In the meantime, I’m glad you feel safe and comfortable here.”

Jim walked the older woman to the door, while Donna introduced Julie to the children—six-year-old Eddie and his five-year-old sister, Cassie.

They looked thin and pale. Cassie bore a bruise on her forehead, as well as a split lip. No wonder Adam had rescued them. Whether he’d been the hottie dressed as Zorro or not, he’d turned out to be a real-life hero.

“Mr. Adam isn’t here yet,” Jim told the children. “But I’m sure he’ll be here soon.”

Donna placed one hand on the boy’s shoulder and the other on his sister’s. “Eddie and Cassie are nervous about going to meet their teacher this morning. So I thought it might be best if we waited for Mr. Adam to get here. They might feel better about going with him to the schoolhouse.”

If Adam was the one who’d found them and rescued them from an abusive situation, they’d probably bonded.

“When is Mr. Adam coming?” Eddie asked. “I want to talk to him. To see if he did what he promised to do.”

“He’ll be here soon,” Donna said. “And I’m sure he did exactly what he told you he’d do. He always keeps his word.”

If Adam and Zorro were one and the same, as Julie had begun to believe, then maybe she’d been wrong to assume he was a ladies’ man and a charmer.

She wasn’t sure what he’d promised the children—or why Eddie seemed so anxious to talk to him. But maybe, while they waited for him to arrive, she could help.

“If you’ll come over here and sit with me,” Julie told the children, as she took a seat on the sofa, “I have something I’d like to show you.”

Neither child spoke, but they made their way to the sofa and sat beside her, watching intently as she unzipped her guitar case, withdrew the instrument and strummed a few chords.

She’d worn her hair long this morning, so she tucked the strands hanging forward behind her ears. Then she began to strum the chords of a silly song she hoped they’d find appealing.

As she played and sang, lulling the children the way she used to calm her daddy whenever he was stressed or anxious, she did her best to focus on the kids. Yet her eyes continued to drift toward the door, waiting for Adam’s grand entrance. And to see if he was the gorgeous hunk who’d lured her onto the dance floor on Saturday night, then left her both charmed and hoping that he’d return—just as he’d promised.

Adam arrived at the Kidville gate about fifteen minutes later than he’d planned and used the code Jim had given him when he first began volunteering. After parking the Bronco, he headed for the hotel. He liked the Old West vibe of the place, although he preferred to hear the happy sounds of children at play. Apparently, school had already started.

Still, as he neared the admin office, he heard another sound—music. The guitar strums and a soft, melodic voice grew louder with each step he took.

As he let himself inside, he was stunned by the vision he saw, and his steps stalled. A twenty-something blonde wearing a long, colorful gypsy skirt and a soft green blouse sat on the overstuffed sofa, flanked by Eddie and Cassie. The kids were smiling as she sang a lively tune, her voice soft and melodic, her facial expression animated.