Sugar Pine Trail

Julia gazed at her cell phone as she gnawed her lip in indecision. She had already called Wyn four times that day and ended up with her friend’s voice mail each time. Phoning her yet again might be verging on harassment.

She had to know, though. What was going on with Davy and Clinton? Had Wyn found a foster care placement for them? Where? Would they have to spend Thanksgiving in a cheerless facility somewhere?

These questions had haunted her all night long. As exhausted as she’d been the night before, she expected that once she slipped into those comfy pajamas she had mentioned to Jamie Caine and finished her chamomile tea, she would be out like a light. Instead, she had paced and worried and paced some more, under the watchful eyes of three sulky cats.

It hadn’t helped when she finally heard the shower upstairs start up. Her stupid imagination wandered in dangerous waters, and she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him up there, all wet skin and hard muscles...

She owed the man an apology.

Jamie had offered her only kindness, fixing the water heater and showing concern and asking if something was wrong. In return, she had been stiff and cold, as dismissive as her cats to his efforts at kindness.

What was it about the man that left her feeling so completely flustered? She could carry on casual conversations with her library patrons all day. Strangers, friends, children, senior citizens. But around Jamie, she couldn’t seem to string two coherent sentences together. She was awkward and tongue-tied.

His easygoing manner should have helped her feel more comfortable around him. Instead, it seemed to have the opposite effect, heightening her awareness of him and her own ridiculous crush on the man, until she couldn’t seem to think about anything else.

She wasn’t sure why she found it so surprising that he could be full of charm. Every woman in Haven Point was enamored with Jamie. To draw that sort of adoration, he had to possess more than simply good looks.

She found him entirely too appealing—but right now her crush on her upstairs tenant was the least of her worries.

Julia pulled out her phone again, staring at Wynona’s contact info. She would call one more time, she decided, then stop hounding her friend.

This time, the phone rang only twice before the call was answered.

“Julia!” Wyn sounded breathless and harried. “I’m so sorry I haven’t returned your calls. I’ve been in meetings all morning long.”

Julia could feel her cheeks turn pink, and she shifted in her chair. She should have waited for Wynona to call her back instead of hounding her. “I’m sorry to be a pain. I’ve been so worried about the boys. How is everything going? Did you locate their mother? Have you found a good placement for them?”

A long pause met her question, and she knew the answer even before Wynona replied.

“That’s one of the reasons I haven’t had time to return your call. I’ve been in contact with different agencies all across the southern half of the state. So far we’ve had no luck locating the mother. Everyone is out there looking. Meanwhile, I’m doing all I can to find an in-home placement for the boys, at least for Thanksgiving. Even the various group facilities are packed. I’ve found two available foster homes, one in Pocatello and one in Burley. Unfortunately, they can each only take one boy.”

“You have to separate them.”

Wynona’s sigh clearly conveyed her frustration. “I know it’s not ideal. It’s not my preference either, but I don’t have other options right now. I’m sorry. This is the best I can do.”

“You can’t split them up,” Julia declared. “They need to be together. They’re so close. The bond between them is remarkable. You’ve seen them together. Clinton is so worried about his little brother, and Davy tries his best to watch out for his brother in return.”

“You’re right. They’re sweet together. It’s impressive, especially given the chaos they’ve been through the last few years. Their father’s death, their mother’s PTSD, moving here away from family. I think all that hardship has only made them closer.”

“Then why would you even consider splitting them up and potentially risk compromising that bond?”

Wyn sighed again. “It’s not up to me, honey. Nobody’s made me queen of the world yet, darn it. I’m doing the best I can. I don’t want to split them up either, but separate home placements are really more beneficial than a temporary, overcrowded facility in every way. Trust me on that. Those facilities are usually packed with children who are hard to place for a reason. Usually they’re much older and more world-wise. Under those circumstances, separate home placements would be better in the long run for two young boys.”

Her heart hurt when she tried to picture the two boys being driven away in separate directions. Those poor kids had been through so much already. This seemed more than they should be asked to endure.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?”

“I wish I had a better answer for you,” Wyn said softly. “I’ve been racking my brain all morning.”

The completely preposterous idea that had come to her in the night—the real reason she hadn’t been able to sleep—suddenly didn’t seem as impossible as it had at 3:00 a.m.

“What if I took them?”

The words slipped out before she could think better of saying them, and she instantly wanted to snatch them back. She couldn’t take two little boys. The idea was mad.

Wyn must have agreed. For a long, painful moment, her friend said nothing. The silence dragged on so long, Julia wondered for a moment if the connection had been lost.

The social worker probably had been so shocked, she dropped her phone in her coffee.

“You?” Wyn finally said.

“I know it’s not practical. I’m not a certified foster parent or anything. But these are unique circumstances. These boys lost their father, who gave his life serving our country. We have an obligation to take care of them, don’t we? Surely this case merits an exception to the rules.”

She gripped the phone tighter. She was out of her mind. She had to be. This made no sense, yet here she was arguing her cause like a seasoned attorney. “I have a huge house with plenty of room. I can provide a safe, warm, comfortable place for them to stay for a few weeks, where they can continue on with their friends and school, until you can find something more permanent.”

“It definitely is an intriguing idea, one I hadn’t even considered. Are you sure about this, Julia?”

Far from it. She hadn’t been less sure about anything in a long time. But she couldn’t shake the sense of obligation she felt for those two lost little boys. She wasn’t responsible for their predicament; she was only the one who had discovered and reported it. She understood that intellectually, but she couldn’t shake the image of Clint the night before.

This is your fault, he had snarled, accusation in his eyes and his fists balled.

It wasn’t. She knew that. Like it or not, though, she had a connection to them now. Besides, they were alone in the world right now, something she understood too well.

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I didn’t mean it,” she said briskly. “I have the room and I want to help. I’m involved in this and have been since they started using my library as their safe haven. I don’t feel right about standing by and doing nothing while they are split up, especially if I have the ability to help. No matter how good the separate placements might be, I feel strongly that these boys need each other.”

“These are two young boys who have already had a rough time. It’s not like taking on a couple of stray puppies.”

“I understand.”

“I hope you do. I can’t even guarantee how long it might take until we can find the mother or the uncle and aunt they’ve talked about—or until we can locate a different foster placement. It could be weeks.”

“That’s fine,” she said. “Do you think it’s even possible, considering I’m not a relative or a certified foster parent?”

“It’s possible. It’s definitely possible.” From her initial shock, Wyn’s tone began to take on a growing enthusiasm. “I would have to pull some strings. It won’t be easy, but maybe, just maybe, we can swing it—at least on a temporary basis through the holidays. Because you work with children at the library, you already would have gone through the necessary background checks, security clearances, fingerprints, etc. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes. My background check was just renewed a few months ago.”

“Perfect. That definitely will stand in our favor. Give me an hour or so to talk to the powers that be and see what we can work out.”

“Okay.”

Now that the option was out there on the table, her hands were shaking, she realized, and her stomach jumped with nerves. Even so, she was also aware of a bubbling sense of anticipation that had been missing from her world for a long time.

“I can’t believe you’re willing to do this, but I have to tell you, I like this idea so much better than the alternative,” Wyn said. Julia could hear audible relief in her friend’s voice. “I always knew you were an angel. This just proves it.”

Julia wasn’t so sure of that. After she and Wynona severed the connection, with Wyn’s promise to call her as soon as she knew anything, Julia gazed off into space, unable to find comfort from the stacks of books that surrounded her.

Now that the adrenaline rush of taking such a huge chance had begun to fade, all her doubts rushed back.

What did she know about making a home for two little boys? And right before Thanksgiving, too!

She had to be crazy. This was the stupidest thing she had ever done, and was destined to end in disaster. The boys would hate her. She was sure to screw up, would probably scar them for life...

She caught herself before the wheel of negative self-talk could totally carry her away. She couldn’t lose sight of two boys who needed help, who needed a home. She had the ability to make a real difference in their lives. This wasn’t some token effort. Serving at the nursing home or making crafts with the Helping Hands was all for the good. This was something real—opening her home, her life, to two boys who needed her.

As long as she kept that in mind, she could handle anything.

* * *

THIS WAS GOING to be an utter nightmare.

Davy and Clinton were staring at her as if she were a Dementor, a Heffalump and an orc rolled into one.

“No!” Clinton exclaimed. “You didn’t tell us we were coming to her house. We don’t want to stay with her! You can’t make us.”

He turned back to the door, but Wynona placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why would you say that? This is a beautiful house, and Julia is one of the nicest people I know. And look! She has cats!”

That might not have been the most effective argument, since all three cats were perched on the back of the sofa, watching the proceedings with various expressions of disinterest.

“I like cats,” Davy said. He looked at his brother uncertainly. Julia hadn’t missed the smile that lit up the younger boy’s expression when he walked into her house and spotted her, but that smile had quickly dripped away in the face of his brother’s objections.

“So what if she has cats? She tricked us, Davy! If she hadn’t stuck her sneaky nose in our business, we would still be at home. She made us think she was nice, but then she called child welfare and now they’re trying to split us up.”

“Not unless we have to,” Wyn said. “That’s the whole reason you’re here. Miss Winston has agreed to take you in temporarily so you can stay together. We don’t have a lot of other options here, kiddo.”

“I didn’t want you to have to move away from Haven Point either,” Julia said. “You told me how well you are doing in school, and I hated the idea that you would have to start over with new teachers and classrooms.”

Davy gave her a half smile, then quickly hid it when Clinton glared. “You should have minded your business. We were doing fine. I was taking care of Davy. He wasn’t going hungry, was he?”

“You’re a wonderful brother, Clint,” she said softly. “Nobody is saying otherwise. I can’t believe how well you watched out for Davy, all on your own.”

Though she might not ever have proof, Julia sensed that while their mother had been missing for less than a week, the older boy had been watching out for his brother far longer than that.

“Here’s the thing,” she went on. “You’re only eight years old. It shouldn’t be your job to make sandwiches and tuck him in and help him get ready for school. Right now your job is to go to school and play with your friends and have fun being eight years old.”

He opened his mouth to answer but apparently couldn’t think of anything to say, because he clamped his jaws closed again and looked down at the ground.

“If you and Davy want to stick together, you need to give Julia a chance,” Wynona said.

“I want to go home,” Clint muttered.

“That’s not an option right now,” Wyn said gently. “You understand that, don’t you?”

Clinton crossed his arms across his chest and stuck out his chin, plainly not happy with that answer.

Wyn’s phone rang, and she glanced down at the caller ID with a harried expression. “This day just won’t stop. I have to take this. I’m sorry.”

“No problem,” Julia said. “You can go in the kitchen if you need quiet.”

When Wyn hurried away, she turned to the boys with a bright smile. “Do you want to see the room where you’ll be staying?”

Davy nodded, but Clint just looked stone-faced. She decided to ignore him for now and led the way to the biggest bedroom, the one her parents had used.

It had been empty since her mother had went into the nursing home. In the few hours since she spoke with Wyn, Julia had scrambled to figure out bedding for them. She had put out a call to the Haven Point Helping Hands, and Megan Hamilton had offered a bunk bed she had bought for one of the rooms at the Haven Point Inn but ended up not using. Her maintenance guy had dropped it off but had been on his way to visit family out of state and hadn’t had time to set it up for her.

“Tonight, you guys might be sleeping on mattresses on the floor, until we can put together the beds for you.”

“Like camping!” Davy said.

“Exactly,” she said with a smile. “But warm and without the bugs, I promise. You can leave your things in here. There are two dressers. You can decide which one each of you would like. I have two guest rooms down here, but I thought you would like to be together. If you’d each rather have your own room, we can do that, too. Whatever you’d like.”

“We’d like to go home,” Clint said. “We want our own beds and our own dressers and stuff.”

“For the next few weeks, I hope you can consider this your home.”

“We won’t,” Clinton snapped.

“Nope,” Davy echoed.

She decided to ignore their objections for now. “I’m afraid I don’t have any boy comforters since no boys have lived here in many years, since my father was little, but I tried to find a few quilts that might work for now. Maybe this weekend we can have the time to go to the store and pick up something you both like.”

“We won’t like anything you pick,” Clint said, stubbornly determined to oppose anything she said.

“Nope,” Davy said, crossing his arms just like his brother.

She sighed. It was going to be a long few weeks if she couldn’t break through this antagonism.

“We’ll all have to make the best of the situation,” she said calmly, leading the way back to the living room as Wyn wrapped up her phone call and joined them, expression grave.

“I don’t want to just drop them off and run, but I have to, uh, drop them off and run,” Wynona said. “I’ve got another emergency. It’s that time of year.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.”

If she said that enough times, Julia just might begin to believe it.

“I’ll call you later to see if you need anything,” Wyn said.

“Thanks.”

“Thank you. It’s a good thing you’re doing here, Jules.”

She had to hope she wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

“Davy, Clinton, it’s been a pleasure getting to know you the last few days,” Wyn said. “I’m so happy you will have the chance to stay together, as you wanted. Julia’s one of my favorite people, and I’m sure the three of you will get along just great.”

Neither of the boys said anything, just continued scowling.

Wyn didn’t appear to let it bother her. She simply smiled at them both and headed for the door. “I’ll definitely call you Friday, but don’t hesitate to contact me before that if you need anything. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Thanksgiving. Oh, fiddle. Julia closed her eyes. That had totally slipped her mind in the last few hours. She hadn’t planned on cooking a Thanksgiving dinner. And she had promised Muriel Randall she would pick her up to go together and help out at the nursing home in Shelter Springs. She would just have to figure something out.

Something told her she would be saying that a great deal while the boys were here.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” she said, giving Wyn a hug.

“Call me if you run into any problems.”

As Wyn walked out into the lightly falling snow, Julia couldn’t shake the feeling it wasn’t so much a matter of “if” they would run into problems but “how many.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

WHAT THE HELL was going on downstairs?

Jamie looked down at the floorboards as another round of wails worked its way up.

Someone down there was not happy—which was a bit of an understatement. The wailing had been nonstop for the half hour he had been home, echoing through the house as if two or three of Julia Winston’s cats were in labor.

Whatever was happening on the floor below, he couldn’t hear any words, only the occasional high-pitched shouting, slamming doors and those piercing cries, with the occasional cat yowl thrown in for fun.

So much for renting a quiet apartment with a reserved, well-behaved librarian for a landlady.

Should he go down and see if she needed help with something?

The night before, she hadn’t seemed all that grateful for his help with the water heater. Julia Winston struck him as someone used to solving her own problems, mechanical problems notwithstanding.

He supposed he could put on some noise-canceling headphones. A little head-banging rock would probably drown out the commotion. On the other hand, he couldn’t shake the suspicion that something might be seriously wrong, that Julia Winston possibly could need his help.

It was none of his business, Jamie tried to remind himself. She could carry on with all kinds of caterwauling creatures if that was her thing. It was her house, after all.

What if she was hurt?

If Pop could see him up here minding his own business, he would definitely have a thing or twenty to say about it. Dermot Caine had taught all his sons not to stand by when a woman might be in distress.

“Nooo,” he heard a high-pitched voice cry out. That decided him. She might not welcome his help, but a real man offered it anyway.

The commotion grew louder as he headed down the stairs. In the vestibule outside her door, he could pick out three distinct voices, though he still couldn’t hear the words they were saying.

He raised his hand to knock, but before he could, the door jerked open. A young boy of about seven or eight stood there. His cheeks were red and tear-stained, and his eyes glittered with temper.

He didn’t appear to notice Jamie standing there.

“We can just walk to our house,” he said defiantly. “I know the way and you can’t stop us.”

From inside, Jamie heard his landlady. “Clinton Slater. For the last time, you can’t go anywhere. I know you don’t want to be here, but right now, none of us has a choice.”

“Do so,” the young boy retorted. “Come on, Davy.”

Before Jamie could move, the kid rushed through—right into Jamie—followed by another one who looked like a carbon copy but a few years younger.

“Clint, Davy. Get back in here,” Julia snapped as the older boy looked up at Jamie, those intense blue eyes wide with shock.

“There’s a guy out here,” Davy called. “Is he your boyfriend?”

An instant later, Julia’s surprised face popped around the door. Her color was high, too, and her hair was again falling out of the little updo thingy she wore. When she spotted him, he thought that color rose another inch or two.

“Oh. This is Mr. Caine. He’s lives upstairs. He probably came down because you both were making so much noise, with your tantrums.”

“It’s true,” Jamie said helpfully. “I thought the cats were fighting down here. Or maybe having kittens. What’s going on?”

“We don’t want to stay here, but she won’t let us leave,” the older of the two boys said, crossing his arms across his narrow chest.

Jamie raised an eyebrow. “Kidnapping, Ms. Winston?” he teased. “That’s a felony.”

“Yeah,” the younger boy said, crossing his arms just like his brother. “A fella-me.”

“You’re not helping,” she snapped, her chest rising sharply.

“Why don’t we all go back inside?” he suggested. “We can all sit down, and you can tell me what’s going on.”

The boys eyed the doorway, but must have sensed they couldn’t juke past him. He hadn’t been a linebacker on the Hope’s Crossing High School championship football team for nothing.

They reluctantly turned around and went into her living room.

“I’m Jamie.”

“My name is Clinton Scott Slater, and this is my brother David Joshua Slater.”

“Clint and Davy are going to be living with me for a while,” Julia said.

“Only until we run away and go home and find our mom,” Clinton responded.

“You know your mother is not at home,” Julia said through her teeth. Something told him they had covered this ground a few times already that evening. “You can’t go back to an empty house.”

“Why should we believe you? We thought you were our friend, but you were just spying so you could call the welfare people on us.”

“I’m hungry,” the younger boy whined.

Julia sighed and ruffled his hair. Despite his alleged unhappiness, Davy leaned into her hand a little.

“I know you are, buddy. I’m working on dinner. I’ll remind you both that I would have been done twenty minutes ago, if I didn’t have to keep coming out to make sure you weren’t trying to sneak out the door when my back was turned.”

She tried to tighten her mouth into a stern expression, but something about the quiver in her lower lip stirred all the chivalrous instincts ingrained in him since birth. She appeared very much like a woman completely out of her comfort zone.

“Tell you what,” Jamie said, “we can help you finish that delicious-smelling dinner. With all of us working together, the work will go faster—then you can invite me over to eat with you, since I’m starving, too. See, it’s a win all the way around.”

He winked at the boys, earning a giggle from the younger one. While the older boy didn’t look as convinced, he appeared a little less belligerent.

“We can’t ruin your whole evening,” Julia protested.

“What are we cooking?” he asked, ignoring her to lead the way into the kitchen. “Smells like spaghetti.”

Julia and the boys both followed him. It was obvious she didn’t want to accept his help—just as it was obvious to both of them that she needed it.

“Lasagna, actually. It should be done in about fifteen minutes.”

“What can we do in the meantime? Besides wash our hands, of course.”

“I only need to make a salad and set the table.”

“You sit down. You’ve done all the hard work on the lasagna. Clint, Davy and I can handle the salad.”

“Can you?”

He had plenty of nieces and nephews and was quite an accomplished child-wrangler, if he did say so himself, but he decided to let his skills do the talking.

“No problem,” he said. “Just watch us.”

“I’ll set the table,” she said, looking disarmed and more than a little overwhelmed.