Chapter Twenty-Five
brEANNA
I’M PRETTY sure this woman will argue with a stump if it makes her feel important. Anger is making my head hot, but the last thing I need to do is piss off the woman who has control over the kids.
She asks Mato questions that she probably doesn’t need answers to tonight, and I look over my shoulder at the two little bodies crowded in the corner. The poor little girl looks just as neglected as Koda and I turn to go to them.
Filth and trash are all around us, and the smell, it’s terrible. Before I kneel in front of him, I look down at the carpet; there are smashed-out cigarette butts, and the fibers are caked together with years of spills and dirt.
Disgust makes my skin crawl and a voice in my head is screaming at me to not touch the carpet, but these two kids have been living in this. For God’s sake, the little girl is barefoot. I can tolerate it for a few minutes.
Lowering to my knees to sit on my heels, I’m in front of Koda, the knife still clutched in his hand at his side.
Big brown eyes are peeking around his arm from behind, looking at me with curiosity.
She’s tiny, too small for a five-year-old and half the size of Koda, and I wonder if she’s ever known a full belly.
Some of the anger has drained from Koda’s eyes, exposing the fear he’s been hiding. He’s been strong for so long, taking care of himself and his sister. Pushing a lock of hair off his eyebrow with my finger, I smile at him. “Would you like to come to my house for tonight?”
“With Nova?” His brown eyes are pleading with me.
His protectiveness of his sister reminds me of my brothers, but we always had our dad to make sure all was right with the world. He’s been doing it all alone.
Tipping my head, I look around his arm, and the brown eyes retreat behind his body more. “Is this Nova?”
He nods. “She’s my sister.”
Slipping my hand around his small one that is still clutching the knife, he lets me pull it from his grasp, and I set it on the couch next to me, taking his warm, slender hand in mine.
I’m surprised he doesn’t pull away. My heart swells when his fingers lightly curl around mine. “Have you been taking care of Nova?”
He nods his head. “I’m all she has.”
Giving his fingers a squeeze, I say, “Okay. Is there anything you would like to bring with you tonight?”
“Nova sleeps with a stuffed animal.”
“Okay. Why don’t you go get what you need for tonight while I finish up with the nice lady?” I almost choke on the words, but Marley’s always going on to everyone about being a good example for the kids.
He nods and turns to grab her hand before he leads her down a hallway with trash and dirty clothes on the floor, and sheets over the doorways. I watch them until they step behind one of the sheets.
It’s got to be close to freezing outside, and it might be cold in here because the door is open, but it can’t be over fifty or sixty degrees in this house.
That little girl is in a pair of pajama shorts that are frayed around the legs, and a capped-sleeve shirt that is too small for her. Her bare feet must be freezing.
After the ridiculous questions the woman demanded we answer, and then the minor argument because I don’t have a car seat in my truck, I had to promise I would buy one tomorrow as the sheriff backed me up.
Luckily, I have blankets in my truck for when they are needed in emergencies, even if they are horse blankets.
Now, Mato is following me to my apartment.
It wasn’t discussed. He just looked at me as we put the kids in my truck and said, “I’ll follow you.”
I’m not sure what to think. I went to bed earlier tonight knowing my routine plans for tomorrow were to go to the ranch for dinner and to see my dad, who just got home from the hospital and is giving everyone hell about being forced to take it easy.
Now, as I look in my rearview mirror at a little boy holding his sister, who is asleep against him, I’m wondering just how much things are about to change.
Offering to let the kids stay with me tonight was impulsive, and the right thing to do, but I can’t ignore the voice in my head asking me if I know what I’m doing. How am I going to incorporate two small children into my already busy life?
A voice in my head reminds me of what it felt like to grow up without a mom.
I was in therapy for half of my life because I was angry and scared because of her absence, but I always had Marley and Kinley to help me.
Trying to imagine not having them in my life, taking care of myself every day with no guidance, and the fear created from the environment Koda and his sister have lived in makes my heart ache.
Yes. This is the right thing to do.
When the woman said she couldn’t let the little girl go home with Mato, I knew I had to act because I wasn’t leaving them with her.
After hearing the distress in Koda’s voice, I couldn’t let them take her from him.
Especially after seeing the relief cross his face when he saw me and Mato walk in the door.
But now, if this goes beyond tomorrow, which I have a feeling it might, there’s a direct tie to Mato that I’m not sure is a good idea. Just seeing him as much as I have lately is making me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling.
Pulling into my space at my apartment, butterflies are swarming in my stomach so fast that even my hands are shaking. How is this going to work?
His broad form in the dim light of the parking lot appears behind me as I quietly open the back door, and I whisper through my finger pressed to my lips. “I have a fold-out couch. If you’ll carry her, I’ll get it ready for them to sleep on.”
Koda is still awake, his eyes drooping, but he seems determined to know what is going on, like a sentinel guarding his ward.
He watches Mato unbuckle Nova’s seatbelt and wrap the blanket around her small body as he picks her up, princess-style.
A stuffed unicorn is against her chest in her tightly hooked arm.
Holding my hand out to him, I whisper, “Come on, bud, you can help me set up the pull-out couch.”
He nods sleepily and slides across the seat, the bookbag I gave him tightly clasped in his hand. He lets me hold his free hand as we walk up the one flight of stairs to my apartment.
Mato sits on the edge of the loveseat, holding Nova, as Koda helps me put sheets and blankets on the mattress. His movements are automatic, like a robot, and I sit on the edge of my recliner. “Are you okay?”
I can feel Mato’s eyes on us as Koda stops in front of me, his bony shoulders drooping. “What’s going to happen to us?”
Trying to pull from the resolute, reassuring memories of my father, I clear my throat and put on the same brave face he used to show us. “That’s what we’re going to find out. For now, you’re going to stay with us.”
Us.
I haven’t referred to me and Mato as an ‘us’ in ten years.
His eyes glass over as he stares at me. “Our mom died.”
Proof that even a negligent parent holds their children’s hearts in their hand, even if they don’t realize or care.
He lets me take his hands in my grasp, his long, slim fingers curl around mine. “I know she did, baby, and I’m so sorry.”
The tough act he carries as a shield has fallen away, and a scared little boy stands in front of me. His face is slack, and his big, brown eyes are looking at me, no, pleading with me for help.
Sliding off the edge of the recliner to my knees in front of him, I lock eyes with him. “I’m going to do what I can to help. Okay?” I nod my head, wanting him to mirror me.
Instead, his words reach into my chest and settle in the space around my heart. “Can we live with you?”
My eyes fill with tears, and I think we all hear when I swallow around the lump in my throat. How can I promise him that?
Mato gets up and gently sets Nova on the bed.
Her black hair fans across the pillow, and he squats next to me.
“Hey, bud.” Koda’s eyes slide in Mato’s direction.
“There’s a lot of stuff involved with a lot of people.
What I can promise you is that we are going to do everything we can so that you and Nova can stay. Okay?”
Koda’s eyes have filled with tears, and I squeeze his hands to get his attention. “For now, while we are dealing with all these people, you and Nova can stay. Okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He lets go of my hands and leans against me, his arms going around my neck and his head resting on my shoulder. As I wrap my arms around his small form, tears slide down my cheeks, and I can’t control the wobble in my chin.
Mato lifts his hand, and my eyes flick to him as he uses the backs of his fingers to wipe my cheeks.
Is this what a mother feels like? Is this what they carry inside every day of their lives as they love and guide their children?
Mato smiles at me, and for the first time I see the pain in his eyes. I’ve had ten years to grieve the child I lost, and I realize his grief has just started; it was his child too, so I smile back at him.
After a few minutes, Koda lets go with a yawn, and I push the hair off his forehead. “Come on, it’s late. I’ll tuck you in.”
It doesn’t take long to get him situated, and within minutes, Koda’s breathing evens out, and he’s sound asleep. Nova moved close to him when he lay down; even in her sleep the little girl moves to the safety of her brother, her hand closed around the material of his shirt.
In the quiet, I become very aware that Mato is standing in my living room.
He seems to fill up the room with his… largeness, and I’m not sure what to do.
Trying to pretend that every nerve in my body isn’t buzzing under my skin, I flick my eyes to meet his for just a second before I move past him to the kitchen.
Even though I’m keeping my back to him, I can feel him behind me. His presence seems to even take up all the space around me, and I quietly take a deep breath to steady my nerves as I set a coffee filter in my old coffeepot.