Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter

Twenty-Seven

“I told him to go fuck himself.” Darren Samms

smiled beatifically and took a sip of his coffee. “Not in quite

those words, but pretty damned close. I told him that you helping

out a kid in need was a sign that you were reintegrating just fine,

not a sign that you were a danger to the community. I told him if

he thought you’d committed a crime he should go to the cops, and

they could talk to me about it. But I’m not going to violate

someone’s parole because some homophobic redneck has got a stupid

grudge. Not when you’re doing as well as you are.”

Lucas felt the same swell of confusion he

experienced whenever someone said something nice about him. It was

rude to disagree with them, but it didn’t feel right to let them

keep believing something that just wasn’t true. “Thank you,” he

managed.

“I should be thanking you. My job’d be a lot

easier if everyone on my caseload kept their noses as clean as

yours is.” He leaned back in the cheap lawn chair Alex usually sat

in. “I could just drop by their worksites, have some coffee, catch

some rays, and head on home.”

Lucas tried to relax into his own lawn chair.

He’d gotten to work early and finished all the really essential

jobs before Darren had arrived, but he still felt guilty for taking

a break during his paid hours. Still, the parole officer apparently

wanted to chat for a bit, and Lucas figured he’d better follow that

lead. “I guess they wouldn’t keep paying you forever, if there was

nothing for you to do.”

Darren’s laugh was out of proportion to the

humor in Lucas’s comment, but that was just the way things seemed

to be with Darren. Everything was oversized. Including the gulp

with which he finished the last of his coffee. “You’re right. I’d

better get back to it if I want to earn my keep.” He heaved himself

to his feet and Lucas rose to stand next to him. “Good work, Lucas.

You’re doing well.” Then his face grew a little more serious.

“Look, Lucas, you’re not going to have any trouble from me on the

dad thing, not unless there’s a lot more to it than I’m seeing so

far. But…”

“Yeah.” Lucas didn’t need it spelled out for

him. “I know.”

Darren squinted at him for a moment, then

nodded. “Yeah, I guess you do. This town is like any other—there’s

good and bad. You’ve met good cops, and you’ve met a couple

who…well, a couple who maybe thought they were doing the right

thing. You’ve met people who want to help you out”—and he jerked

his head in the direction of Elise’s house—“people who don’t care

much but don’t want to take the chance, and maybe a few who’d like

to see you fall. You just need to remember that there’s one more in

that last category now, and he seems like he’s ready to work pretty

hard to make something happen. Just because he didn’t get what he

wanted from me doesn’t mean he’s going to give up trying.”

“I’ll be careful,” Lucas said. Darren’s

expression made it clear he didn’t think that was enough, but what

else was there to say, or to do?

“And you’ll call me if anything comes up.

Don’t be a hero, don’t think you need to spare me the trouble.”

Darren stretched his hand out to shake Lucas’s and clapped his

other hand on top. “Seriously, Lucas. Call me.”

“Yeah, okay.” Lucas grinned at Darren’s

skeptical look. “I will. If anything comes up.”

They both turned then to watch a car coming

up the driveway. Darren squinted at it, then swiveled toward Lucas.

“And that’s going okay? He’s not…there was a time when I would have

said Mark Webber was close to the top of the people who wanted to

see you back in jail. Now some angry dad is ranting about the two

of you conspiring together to turn his kid gay? I mean, obviously

the dad’s full of shit, but you and the priest—that’s okay? He’s

not a problem?”

“Of course not!” It came out sounding like

Lucas was outraged. He tried to tone it down. “He’s been really

good. He’s ignoring…you know. What I did. He’s focused on helping

Alex, and he said that because we both want to help Alex we’re on

the same team, so we should work together. Not that I’m actually

any use, but if Alex wants me there when Father Webber talks to

him, Father Webber’s okay with it.”

Darren’s expression was hard to read. “And

you’re okay with it?”

“Me? Why would I… I mean, if he can stand to

be in the same room as me, that’s…it’s a gift, right? What would I

have to complain about?”

“You’re supposed to be moving forward. Not

forgetting the past, but leaving it where it belongs. If you’re

constantly being reminded of your mistakes—”

“No,” Lucas interrupted. “Like I said, he’s

focused on Alex. He’s not reminding me of anything. Not anything I

don’t remind myself of.”

Once again, Darren didn’t look convinced.

“And what’s he doing out here now? The kid isn’t here now, is

he?”

“Maybe he needs to talk to Elise.” But the

priest wasn’t going into the house or coming up to the barn to look

for her. He was just sitting behind the wheel of his car, staring

at a donkey as it chewed on a dandelion. Lucas felt the first stir

of alarm. “Or maybe something’s wrong.”

“You want me to walk down with you? See what

he’s up to?” Darren had parked his car near the barn, so there was

no reason for him to go toward the house. And Lucas found himself

feeling almost protective of the priest. Father Webber shouldn’t

have to hear a lecture from Darren about leaving the past behind,

or whatever else he was likely to come up with.

“No. It’s fine. I don’t know what he needs,

but it’s nothing to do with me.”

“Okay,” Darren finally agreed, and Lucas

walked him to the car. “But remember,” the large man said as he

wedged himself behind the steering wheel, “if anything comes up,

you call me.”

It was sweet, Lucas decided as he watched

Darren edge his car past the priest’s. Weird to be getting this

level of mothering now instead of when he’d been younger and could

have really used it, but still…sweet.

He watched as Darren’s car pulled out of the

driveway and headed down the dirt road. It was almost out of sight

by the time Lucas turned back toward the house. The priest was

still sitting behind the wheel of his own car.

What if the guy was sick or something? Maybe

he’d had a heart attack? He looked pretty fit, but who could say

for sure?

Damn it. Lucas started down the path. He

wasn’t especially quiet and the car window was rolled down, but the

priest didn’t seem to notice his approach. When he was a few steps

away, Lucas scuffed his feet in the gravel, then coughed, and

finally the priest’s head swiveled.

“Are you…” Lucas started, but he stopped when

he saw the priest’s face. He looked like he’d been told that he’d

been denied parole after having thought it was a sure thing. It was

stupid to ask this man if he was okay. But what else could Lucas

say? “Do you need anything? Are you looking for Elise?”

The priest shook his head as if trying to

come out of a daze. “I don’t…I guess not, no.” He looked blankly at

Lucas, then managed to pull himself together. “I’m sorry. I’m not

sure what I’m doing here. I was just driving, and somehow I ended

up…here.”

That sounded way too loose for someone as

controlled as Father Webber, and Lucas tried to make it into

something more rational. “Alex should be here pretty soon. Maybe

you were going to check on him?”

“I guess so,” the priest hesitantly agreed.

He looked at his watch. “How much longer, do you think?”

“Maybe half an hour?”

“Okay.”

And that should have been that. But there was

something not right about this, and Lucas was reluctant to just

walk away. “Or Elise is around somewhere. I could try to find her,

if you want.”

“No, I don’t want to bother her. I’m

fine.”

Except Lucas was pretty sure he wasn’t. “Alex

has shown you the animals already, right?” So that wasn’t going to

be a way to distract the man. “We got a new bird in last night. Hit

by a car. That’s what Elise says. He’s a turkey vulture—a pretty

big bird. People say they’re ugly, but I don’t really think so.

He’s got a broken wing, and Elise says flying is really important

to them, so she’s not sure if we’ll be able to get him back into

the wild.” What else could he possibly say about the damn bird? He

was sorry he’d started. “I guess flying is pretty important to most

birds.” Yeah. “Except penguins, I guess. Ostriches.”

Well, at least the priest wasn’t staring out

through the windshield anymore. Instead, he was squinting up at

Lucas as if trying to discern his home planet.

“Chickens,” Lucas said.

The priest raised an eyebrow.

“And those other ones that are like

ostriches.”

A blank stare until finally the priest said,

“Emus?”

“Yeah. Emus.” Lucas wanted to crawl

underneath the car.

“Why are we talking about emus?” the priest

asked, but he didn’t seem upset. In fact, he looked a bit better

than he had when Lucas had first approached.

“I’m not sure.” But there had to be more.

This conversation, such as it was, seemed to be doing the priest

good. So Lucas needed to keep it going. “Because they don’t fly, I

think. And neither does this turkey vulture, right now. But we’re

hoping he will someday. We’ve got his wing splinted, and the vet

said it was a clean break.”

The priest was looking at Lucas pretty

intently now. “You really enjoy this, don’t you? Working here?

Terry was right when he set this up for you.”

“Yeah. He was right. I mean, I needed a job.

But this job? It’s great. I owe Father Groban a lot.”

“What about if it were a different kind of

job? If you were still helping animals, but not as directly. Like

if you were working in the office of a charity that funded places

like this. It’s important work, and somebody needs to do it.”

“It wouldn’t be the same. I mean, this

job—I’m good at this.” It felt strange to say it, but he was pretty

sure it was true. “I’m not saying I’m special or anything, but I

like the animals, and they like me back, usually. And I can do

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