Waking Hearts (13 page)

“Okay.” He took a deep breath. “It’ll be okay. What do you want us to do?”

She was shaking. Ollie took her to the porch steps and sat down, holding her on his lap, her arms still around his neck.

“Allie-girl, what do you need?”

“I can’t think,” she said. “I can’t…”

“Do you want the kids here? Do you want us to take you over to Cathy and Tom’s?”

“Ollie—” His name was a choked cry when she broke.

He held her, stroking a hand over her hair, their earlier anger forgotten. He didn’t know what he whispered to her as she cried, but he felt Ted when she came to sit beside them and put her arm around Allie’s waist. He heard Alex sit beside his wife. Heard Sean pacing back and forth as Caleb murmured quietly on his phone.

The wind had picked up by the time her crying stopped. Allie lifted her head and wiped the tears from her cheeks, leaving one arm on Ollie’s shoulder as she blinked.

“Ted,” she said in a hoarse voice, “can you call Jena? Have her call my dad and get them to bring the kids home. My car is at the Crowe’s house.”

“Okay,
mama
.”

“In fact, see if Tom and Cathy can come over too.” She sniffed. “And I need you guys to stay.”

“Anything you need,” Alex said. “The kids—”

“Caleb?”

The lean man knelt next to Allie, worry creasing his tan face. “What’s up?”

“Can you bring Low and Bear too?”

Ollie frowned. “You sure you want so many people here when you tell them?”

“I need…” Her breath hitched. “I want everyone
here
. Everyone close. They need to know they’re not alone. I want them surrounded. Want everyone… everyone who loves them—”

“You got it.” Caleb’s eyes filled with tears. “We’ll take care of it, Allie. We’ll get everyone here.”

She nodded and Ollie drew her to his chest again, wrapping both arms tight around her. He could feel her heart racing against his chest.

“Take a breath,” he whispered.

“Ollie, my babies.”

“Take a breath, darlin’. We’ll keep things together.”

“Stay.”

“As long as you want me to.” He hitched her tighter into his embrace, felt her hands move down and wrap around his waist. “I’ve got you, Allie. Just breathe.”

THE older boys knew as soon as they pulled up to the house and saw everyone there. Ollie could tell by the look in Kevin’s and Mark’s eyes. Kevin didn’t say a thing, just put his arm around Mark’s shoulders and led him into the house. Mark’s face was frozen, a blank mask as he watched Chris and Loralie hop up the front steps.

Telling the younger kids was… confusing.

Kevin sat next to Caleb in chairs brought from the dining room, his best friend Low on his other side. Mark, despite being ten, was sitting with Allie’s dad, squished beside his grandpa in the old recliner. Allie had Christopher on her lap, and Ollie sat next to her on the couch, Loralie hanging around his neck.

“Dead?” Christopher asked. “Like Bandit?”

Allie and Joe’s old dog had passed away two years before from old age and a love of chasing cars.

“Well,” Allie said. “Yes. I guess like Bandit.”

“Why?” Loralie asked. “Why isn’t he gonna come home anymore?”

“Because he can’t, baby,” Allie said. “Sometimes, if your body is hurt too badly—”

“Ollie?” Loralie put her thumb in her mouth and leaned on his chest. “Can I have a Popsicle?”

“Yep.” He stood, still holding the little girl to his chest.

“Can I have one too?” Chris said.

“Blue or red?”

“Red.”

Mark huffed out a breath, and Ollie saw him on his Grandpa Scott’s lap, blinking back tears. Scott leaned down and whispered something to him.

The house was bursting with people. Jena’s parents. Ollie’s grandparents. Jena’s kids and Allie’s friends. Ted’s mom had come over, along with Alex’s mother and grandmother. The busy hum surrounded him.

Ollie passed Alex and Sean coming out of the kitchen, and he suddenly realized why Allie had been so insistent that everyone come to the house.

Love
surrounded
him. Pressed into him. He could feel the weight of it like one of the heavy, pieced-together quilts his yaya made. Parents and grandparents. Children and friends. His cousin Paul had even brought Ollie’s dog over to the house, and Murtry planted himself at Allie’s feet.

“Ollie?” Loralie whispered into his shoulder, her thumb still in her mouth.

“What’s up, baby girl?”

“Will you stay here when I go to bed?”

“If you want me to.”

She draped her little arms around his neck. “Can you be your bear?”

“Yep.”

So apparently he was staying the night in Allie’s living room in his shifted form. He’d had stranger requests.

He grabbed two Popsicles, making sure one was red and one was green, Loralie’s favorite. Then he carried her past all the grandmas and back into the living room, settling next to Allie again.

“I’m staying the night,” he said, handing the red Popsicle to Chris. “Lala wants the bear.”

Allie nodded. “Okay then.”

“Mama,” Chris asked. “Was daddy a coyote when he died? Did someone hit him with their car?”

Allie’s eyes went wide. “No, buddy. Why would you think that?”

“I saw a coyote when I was driving to Indio with Grandpa. It was dead like Bandit, and I wondered if it was daddy.”

Allie sucked in a sharp breath, and Ollie grabbed her hand.

“That wasn’t Dad, stupid,” Mark said. “That was just a dumb regular coyote.”

“Marky,” Allie’s dad said, brushing the boy’s hair back from his eyes. “Remember what I told you.”

Mark crossed his arms and settled into sullen silence again while Chris and Loralie ate their Popsicles. Ollie heard Kevin sigh deeply and lean his head against the wall.

Low tugged on his sleeve and said, “Hey, let’s go outside.”

“Okay.”

The older boys left, and then the adults began to disperse, but nobody went home. Ollie smelled food drifting in from the kitchen and someone put some quiet gospel music on the radio. Pretty soon, Loralie was wiggling off his lap and asking Jena if she could play with the baby while Chris asked Caleb if he wanted to shoot Nerf guns. Mark went to the boys’ room with Bear. Ted came in the room and refilled everyone’s iced tea.

Ollie put his arm on the back of the sofa, and Allie leaned into his side.

“He wanted to play Nerf guns,” she said to Ted.

Ted crouched down next to her. “Children process grief differently.”

Caleb, who had probably dealt with more grieving families than any of them when he was working as a homicide detective, moved closer to Allie and Ted.

“It’s going to come up at odd times,” he said. “Kids don’t always recognize what they’re feeling.”

“Loralie hasn’t sucked her thumb in years,” Allie murmured.

“She wanted me to stay the night here,” Ollie said. “As a bear.”

Ted smiled. “Bears are so cuddly.”

“And scary,” Allie said, nudging his side. “Sometimes it’s good knowing there’s something scary guarding the door.”

“It’s good she felt comfortable asking Ollie to stay,” Caleb said. “She knows the adults around her are dependable. Allie, I
am
worried about safety though. The papers will get ahold of Joe’s name tomorrow. We don’t know why he was murdered, or if anyone is still—”

“Are they sure he was?” Ollie asked.

Ted nodded. “They found blunt-force trauma to his skull, but also a rib that was cracked. They missed it on the first pass, but Larry is fairly sure it was broken by a bullet.” She glanced at Allie. “Is this too much?”

Allie took a deep breath. “No, it’s fine. I’m kinda… I knew it was him, Ted. I knew.”

“I think the older boys did too,” Ollie said. “And Caleb, we’re watching the house.”

“By ‘we,’ you mean—”

“Bears.” He nudged Allie’s knee with his. “It’s good to have something scary guarding the door, remember? My clan is around. No one’s gonna touch the kids.”

EVEN when night fell, it seemed that Allie’s house was still surrounded. Tom and Cathy had driven their motor home over and parked it so Allie’s dad could stay the night. Ollie’s cousin took his grandparents to his house, leaving Ollie in the living room staring at a tiny girl in a princess nightgown who was holding a green stuffed dinosaur and staring at him with large blue eyes while her mother oversaw the boys getting ready for bed.

“What?” he said. “Now?”

She nodded, her thumb in her mouth.

“Okay, well…” None of the rooms in Allie’s house were big enough to shift in except the living room, and he didn’t want to strip down to his skin in front of a five-year-old.

He held up a hand. “I’ll be right back.”

Ollie went out to the front porch and off to the side yard, undressing quickly and stowing his clothes on a porch chair. He shifted, his body growing and flowing into his natural grizzly form, the hump rising on his back, his paws spreading to the size of dinner plates. He was the largest bear in his clan; he could hear the smaller creatures in the desert night skittering away when they scented him.

Senses keener, he did one wide circuit around the house, running in a burst of speed to work off some of the tension from the day. Then he shook off as much dust as he could and walked to Allie’s house, climbing the porch and scratching low on the door where Ollie could see other animals had scratched before him. Allie’s and Kevin’s foxes. Joe’s coyote. Even Ted’s cougar.

Allie opened the door. “This must be the bear she’s insisting on before she goes to bed.”

He grunted and squeezed through the door, only to see Loralie still standing with her dinosaur, her thumb in her mouth.

She grinned behind her thumb and held out her arms. “Up.”

Allie sighed. “Do you mind?”

Ollie lowered himself to the ground, and Allie lifted Loralie onto his back, settling her to sit just behind his hump. He felt her tiny hands tangle in his fur and knew she’d hold on. He lumbered down the hall and into the room decorated with mermaids and princesses, with a few random dinosaurs thrown in. Or were they dragons? He grunted and leaned against her little bed; Loralie scrambled onto the mattress and bounced a little, still grinning.

“Can you stay in my room, Ollie?”

Noooo
. He had visions of waking up with pink ribbons in his fur and a tiara perched between his ears.

“No, baby.” Allie tucked her under the covers. “Your room is too small for a bear. Ollie’s going to stay out in the living room.”

He huffed out a breath and leaned his muzzle on the side of her bed.
 

Loralie bent over his snout and gave him a kiss on the nose. “Thank you,” she whispered.

One more contented rumble later, and he was shuffling back down the hall where he ran into Mark.

“Whoa.” Mark smiled, and it was the first true smile he’d seen from the boy all day. “Hey, Ollie.”

He grunted at Mark and nudged him with his massive head. The boy’s hand landed on Ollie’s neck, and he leaned into him. Mark had been reluctant to accept affection from anyone but his grandfather all day. Ollie was hoping he wouldn’t be as reluctant with the animal.

He dug his fingers into Ollie’s fur and kneaded, testing out the weight and texture of the thick pelt.

“You’re, like, the biggest thing I’ve ever seen.”

A chuffed breath.

“I wish I could be a bear,” Mark whispered. “I don’t want to be a coyote.”

A growl from Ollie.

“I know,” Mark said sadly. “We are the animal we are.”

And Ollie knew that though Mark might have put on the best face, the boy felt deeply, and he would need to be watched. Mark might not be the one to act out, but he would carry his pain like silent armor if he didn’t allow the wound to heal. He leaned into Ollie, pressing his body weight against the grizzly, and Ollie felt a bit of the tension seep away.

“Thanks for staying,” he said. “I feel better knowing you’re here.”

Another light growl.

“Hey, Mark, have you seen—” Kevin stepped into the hall. “Oh. Hey, Ollie.”

A low grunt.

“Mark, did you take my deodorant again?”

“I couldn’t find mine.”

“Dude, not cool.” Kevin hooked his younger brother around the neck and dragged him back down the hall. “You cannot go and steal a man’s deodorant like that.”

Letting the affectionate bickering of the boys fade back, he headed toward the living room and lay down next to Murtry, who was sprawled on his back, head lying on a Little Mermaid pillow Loralie had given him, clearly unworried about his dignity. The mastiff already had a purple bow clipped to one of his ears.

Sucker
.

Ollie dozed, naturally lazy in bear form, and wondered in the back of his mind if there were any leftovers from the lasagnas that Cathy and his yaya had made earlier. It didn’t matter how recently he’d eaten as a human; when he shifted to his bear, he was
always
hungry.