Queen (4 page)

She made her decision. She'd stay long enough for the wandering father to reappear, read him the riot act. and be on her way. It was only fitting.

"My gosh," she said as she heard the bus driver call out for passengers to reenter the bus. "I forgot to get my bag. Hold that thought, Sheriff. I'll be right back, and we'll figure out what to do next."

Her long legs made short work of the distance to the bus. In no time she had her one bag in hand and was back in the midst of the fray.

"Okay. I understand we have a problem," Queen said. "Where exactly is my stepbrother? He called a few weeks ago and asked if I would come and help out."

Donny felt compelled to explain the real situation, lest his newfound savior make a mistake with her ad-lib explanation.

"She came to help 'cause our mother is dead," he told the sheriff. "We just moved to Colorado a few weeks ago. Dad was hoping for help while we got… settled."

Queen hid her shock at his words, but a familiar wave empathy and a strong memory of being in the same shoes once in her own life made her shudder.

"At the time, I couldn't come. Family problems of my own. My father, Johnny Houston, died last week. After that, leaving Tennessee seemed to be a good idea."

Sheriff Miller frowned. On the face of things, this all seemed plausible. But he still had a duty to make sure her story checked out. He'd been sheriff in Snow Gap for fifteen years, and the Bonners were obviously newcomers to the area. He knew nothing about their situation or their family ties.

"I don't like this," said the social services woman, who bad introduced herself as Edith Sutter. "I think it would be best if you let me take the boys to juvenile until things get sorted out. After all, you can't let children just walk away with strangers."

Queen bristled and slid a protective arm around Donny's shoulder. "My sentiments exactly, ma'am," she said. "But you and the sheriff are the strangers, not me."

J.J. turned from his brother's embrace and looked it the tall woman standing beside his beloved Donny.

"Are you really my aunt?" he asked.

Queen nodded, ignoring the spurt of guilt that threaded her system. Sometimes a lie was the kindest thing.

"I want to go with Aunt Queenie," J.J. said, and unwrapped himself from Donny's neck and slid into Queen's arms as if on cue. He hiccuped and buried his face in her neck, once again hiding from the situation in the only way he knew how.

It was reflex, but Queen's arms tightened around the small child's body. Her fingers slid across the thin little back and the undeveloped bony shoulders that she knew someday would be broad and strong. But for now they were too small to hold the weight of the world.

"And you shall, J.J. Will, too." She reached down and gently brushed a dark wing of hair from the middle child's forehead. His skin felt clammy beneath her fingers and she knew how panic felt. Will was obviously in a terrible state, and his quietness only magnified the fact.

Sheriff Miller sighed. "Just let me make a few phone calls, okay?"

Queen nodded. "Call Cradle Creek, Tennessee. Ask anyone there. They'll tell you we didn't have much, but Johnny Houston's daughters were honest and decent. And they'll confirm the fact that my father is dead. Beyond that, I don't know what else to tell you."

"Got a driver's license?" Sheriff Miller asked.

Queen handed it over, thankful that she'd learned to drive and never let it expire, although Johnny had long ago lost their only vehicle in a card game and had never been able to afford another.

Five minutes passed as she and the Bonner boys stood on the sidewalk beneath Edith Sutter's glare. The social worker's expression didn't lighten when Sheriff Miller came back, handed Queen her license, and tipped his hat.

"It all seems to check out," he said. "I think it's best to let things ride as they are for now."

"What about my father?" Donny asked. Queen caught the frantic tone of his voice and realized for the first time that their fear might not be misplaced. Maybe the father did have an excuse, but she was going to reserve judgment until he showed his sorry face.

"I think a missing persons report is in order," Queen said. "Come on, boys. We need to follow Sheriff Miller to the office. You'll have to help me give him the facts. I haven't done more than talk by phone to your dad in
years. For all I know, he's lost all that pretty hair. Did it ever go gray? I'll bet he's fat as a pig. He always liked desserts too much."

Will shook his head. "Daddy's not fat. And his hair's still really black, honest."

Queen smiled. Without knowing it, the children were supplying her with a faint but distinct picture of their father. The three boys looked remarkably alike, with sturdy bodies, pug noses, and stubborn chins. And she didn't think she'd ever seen hair as black or eyes as blue as the Bonner boys had. She suspected that the missing father was responsible for the strong genetic imprint. But what she wanted was his presence, not a mental image. She had just embarked on the rest of her life, and baby-sitting abandoned children was not part of plan.

An hour later they exited the sheriffs office hand in hand. Donny was worried. He had finally convinced the authorities to look for his dad, but in the meantime he'd done something his father had told him never to do: he'd trusted a stranger.

Queen looked around at the small mountain community and then down at the three boys, who were staring at her. "When did you eat last?" she asked them.

Donny sighed. At least she worried about stuff that mattered. "This morning," he said.

"But only Cheerios without milk," Will offered. "We ran out."

"Dad was going to bring groceries back," Donny said, anxious that no one assume further that his father was not all he should be.

Queen had heard that excuse so many times in her own life that the words didn't even sink in. "Right," she said, aware that Donny was going to defend his father to the death. She patted her pocket, realizing that she was about to spend some of her precious hoard of money on a stranger's children, and ignored the warning her conscience was giving her. "Where do you live?" she asked.

All three boys pointed up the mountain.

"Up there?"

They nodded.

"Far?"

They nodded again.

"Then how did you get down?"

Donny grinned, and in spite of her determination not to become emotionally involved, Queen felt a bit of her resistance melting.

"Donny drove Daddy's pickup," Will said, and pointed to a red truck parked in the alley across the street.

"You drove?" She didn't bother to hide the shock she felt.

Donny nodded. "I've been driving for years."

Queen stifled a grin. "How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

She sighed. There was nothing left to do but deal with the situation one step at a time. And from the interest her earlier question had elicited, that meant food was next in order.

"Know where the grocery store is?" she asked.

Donny nodded.

"Okay, then load up. Well buy some food and then head for your home. I have no desire to be driving around in the mountains after dark, especially on unfamiliar roads."

When they started to troop toward the car, Queen felt J.J. slip his hand in hers. Her fingers tightened instinctively. She would wonder later if it had been to help him cross the street or an unconscious gesture of not wanting to let him go.

Donny didn't know whether he'd done the right thing, but he had at least maintained some control of the situation. Queen started to pick up her bag when he stopped her with a touch of his hand. Their eyes met, 5reen locked into blue, and an understanding passed between them. Donny Bonner owed her, and Bonners always paid their debts.

Queen straightened and nodded, then headed for the truck parked in the alley.

Donny picked up her bag and urged Will ahead of him. The journey had begun.

"You live here?"

Queen couldn't mask the surprise in her voice. This cedar and shake A-frame home didn't look like the place of a loser. The wide redwood deck that spanned the entire house was about four feet off the ground and gave the house a rather majestic appearance, and on the deck was a nearly new set of matching redwood patio furniture. Queen could imagine the peace of mind that would come with the ritual of watching sunsets every evening from such a place.

"I'm hungry," J.J. said softly.

The announcement broke her reverie. "Then grab a bag and lead the way," she said, ruffling his hair. "I am, too."

Donny took charge, handing a parcel apiece to his brothers, careful to adjust the weight of the sack to the size of the boy. Queen noticed the thoughtfulness, although she knew that he'd done it automatically, not just to impress her. His protective attitude made her think of herself at that age, and that in turn made her angry with the absent father as she automatically assumed he was no more responsible than Johnny Houston had been. Where did this Cody Bonner get off leaving the care of children in the hands of a child?

She grabbed the remaining bags and took the steps two at time, making good use of the reach of her long legs. Suddenly she, too, was very, very hungry. It had been a long time since Texas and breakfast, and in spite of herself she was a little excited at the unexpected adventure.

Once again, the interior of the house was not as she'd imagined. It was clean and orderly, with only a few bits and pieces of the boys' clothes lying about. An extra pair of boots had been placed on the bottom of the stairs, waiting to be carried by the next person up the steps.

Her stomach took a dive, then she inhaled and stared wild-eyed at the size of those boots. They had to belong to the missing father.

She followed Donny and the other boys through the house toward the kitchen and tried not to think of how big a man would have to be to wear them.

Donny stood alone at the living room window and stared out into the darkness. His euphoria of having  managed to keep the family together began to deflate as night fell. He shuddered, swallowed, and blinked rapidly as tears burned the back of his eyes. Resisting the urge to fling himself onto the nearest sofa and bawl like a baby, he chewed the inside of his lip instead. He'd never been so afraid in his life, at least not since the day of his mother's funeral. But even then he'd had his father's presence and his broad shoulders to lean on. Now he had no one… unless he counted the redheaded woman.

She was pretty… for a woman her age. In Donny Bonner's world, anyone past the age of nineteen seemed middle-aged. He wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms and sniffed quietly, hoping that no one had heard him. If J.J. and Will saw him cry, they'd join in. That would be all he needed.

Queen stood in the doorway and watched him. His posture was stiff, his shoulders thrust back defiantly. She stood, hoping that his vigil would not be in vain. In her experience, waiting for dreams to come true was a waste of time.

And then she saw his shoulders shake and saw him wipe at his eyes and knew that the young man was doing all he could to hide his own fear. She hurt for him, but there was little she could do beyond what she'd already done.

"Get enough to eat?" she asked.

Donny jumped, surprised that he was no longer alone, and then ducked his head, not wanting her to see stray tears in his eyes.

"Had plenty," he muttered. "Where are my brothers?"

"Taking a bath. I told them to get ready for bed." Realizing that she might have usurped his role, she felt obliged to add, "I hope that's all right."

Donny glanced down at his watch and nodded. "It's fine." He looked up at her and sighed, finally giving in to overwhelming weariness. "It's just fine."

"Where do you want me to sleep?" Queen asked.

Donny thought, then made a quick decision. "In my dad's bed. It's the only extra one except for the fold-out. You may as well be comfortable."

Queen nodded, allowing him to be the "man of the house," certain that staying in control would be what he needed to get through the nightmare into which they'd been thrust.

"Follow me," he said, picking up her bag.

Queen did, and as she took the first step, she eyed and then stepped over the scuffed black boots mocking her by their presence. The farther away she stayed from those empty boots, the greater her peace of mind.

Donny paused beside the first door at the top of the landing. "This is Dad's room. He has his own bathroom. Help yourself, Aunt Q—I mean, Miss…"

Queen smiled. "Leave it. I've never been an aunt. I think I kind of like it."

For the first time since the whole fiasco had started, Donny felt as if he'd done the right thing. Impulsively he stepped forward and gave her a quick hug.

"Thanks," he said. "I don't know what I'd have done without you."

Queen tried valiantly to ignore the warmth that had spread through her heart when Donny's arms had spread through her heart when Donny's arms had wrapped around her shoulders. But it was impossible. For the second time today she'd been hugged by a Bonner. What bothered her was that she was beginning to like it.