A Cowboy at Heart. Roz Fox Denny

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СКАЧАТЬ already explained that you’ll have a home here until I can get in touch with the area’s new social worker. Not only that, I intend to grill her about a system that leaves children living in squalor.”

      “Yeah, I know that’s what you said. But you don’t want us. We’re—” the boy screwed up his face and hesitated “—we’re a comp…comp—something I heard the fat dude say.”

      “Watch who you’re calling fat.” Shawn’s face erupted in fury as everyone swung toward him. “So shoot me for thinking the kid had left the room before I said those little farts were a complication for you, Parker. They are. I didn’t say anything that’s not true.” He thrust his jaw out pugnaciously.

      “Are not…whatever you said!” Wolfie yelled, descending on Shawn with fists flying and teeth bared.

      “Are, too,” Shawn shot back, holding the wiry boy off with a stiff arm.

      “All right! Enough!” Flinging out his own hand, Linc hooked Wolfie around the waist and easily dangled the fist-swinging boy three feet off the ground. “Hold on there, pardner. Remember what I told you earlier about biting not being how men solve things?”

      For a few seconds, Wolfie actually looked chastened. “You didn’t say nothin’ about kickin’ or hittin’.”

      “I didn’t then, but I am now. And, Shawn, I don’t want any pissing contests going on, understand?” Linc leveled a stern glare at the older boy as he turned Wolfie loose. “Everyone, go climb into my SUV. You’ll have to keep quiet during the drive so that on the way to town, I can tell you my house rules.”

      Shawn led the charge to the door. He stopped and said to Linc, “The kid calls me a fat dude again and I’ll kick his ass.”

      Linc took a moment to study the unkempt overweight teen with a face full of zits. Cutting through the bluster, it wasn’t hard to see the unhappy boy underneath. “Look, Shawn. I know the kid’s abrasive, and you’re tired. We all have our hot buttons. I’m not planning to implement a lot of rules. But number one is respect. Respect for the other guy’s person and his space. The rules apply equally across the board. Anyone who can’t live with them can hit the road.”

      Shawn nodded shortly and stalked out.

      Linc eyed the next two boys getting ready to pass him. Eric and Greg. They hunched over their packs. Eric clutched a guitar case, while Greg carried a narrower case that obviously held a keyboard.

      “No need to lug that stuff along. We’ll only be gone one night. And I’m locking the house.”

      Greg leaned his keyboard up against the couch. Eric elbowed him sharply. “Me and the guys don’t go nowhere without the tools of our trade, man.”

      “Tools of your trade?” Linc all but sneered. “Like you’re such frigging successes.”

      Miranda sensed a fight in the making. And although it’d suit her if music was downplayed here at the retreat, she’d had her fill of bickering. In an effort to distract the participants, she tucked Scraps inside her partially buttoned jacket and stepped between the combatants. “Do you think they’ll mind if I have a dog in the motel?”

      Linc’s eyes shifted away from the hostile kid with the awful dreadlocks. He wasn’t at all prepared to see that scruffy dog nestled against his young charge’s generous breasts. For a moment, his tongue tangled with his teeth. What came out sounded like a stutter.

      Randi waited, not sure what Parker was trying to say.

      “Hell, take the dog! Take everything,” he finally managed to spit out. Afraid he was in deep trouble when it came to playing houseparent to this particular group, Linc put some space between himself and Randi. He waved a hand toward the open door, through which the heavyset boy had already disappeared.

      Linc disliked starting his new endeavor by losing control. Especially since turning a blind eye and deaf ear to Felicity’s behavior had been his big mistake. One he didn’t intend to repeat. But maybe after a meal and a good night’s sleep, he’d be on more certain footing.

      Pocketing his house key, he made directly for the driver’s door of the Excursion. He veered off course when it appeared no one was helping Cassie. Linc lifted her out of her wheelchair and set her gently down in the middle row of seats, buckling her in. He folded her pathetically small chair, then went around and tucked it in the space behind the last row of seats. Wondering what had caused her condition, he slammed the door and returned to watch as the others climbed inside.

      Earlier, when he’d convinced Wolfie to leave the bunkhouse, Linc had considered that his first small victory. But now, as Eric knocked into him with his guitar case, determined to sit in the very back of the big SUV, Linc tasted the bile of defeat. He foresaw his tussle with Eric as the first of many. After learning these kids were bent on becoming rock stars, the way his sister had, he could no longer stand the thought of listening to their music. John Montoya had intimated Linc was deluding himself to think he had a prayer of guiding kids like these away from the fickle field of music or acting into other less risky pursuits. Once again, Linc was afraid he’d been right.

      After they were all seated in the SUV, Greg demanded a rundown of Linc’s rules. Eric dissented loudly at Linc’s order that they needed to buckle their seat belts or the Excursion wasn’t going anywhere.

      “Wearing seat belts isn’t my rule.” Linc raised his voice over their grumbling. “It’s California state law. And while I’m in charge, we will obey the laws of the land.” He segued right into his vision for the group. “Being law-abiding citizens is in sync with my idea of rules to live by. I assume you’re all too young to drink alcohol and buy cigarettes. Weed and other drugs are against the law. Those head my list. It goes without saying that I expect everyone to pitch in with the chores. I’m not going to harp at you or mete out punishment. Shirkers will, however, get privileges taken away. That’s about the extent of my rules for the moment, especially since we already touched on respecting the personal privacy of your neighbors.”

      Jenny let silence settle inside the vehicle before she spoke. “What kind of chores, Mr. Parker? I already told Randi I can’t cook.”

      “Asking you girls to cook tonight was because of our unusual circumstances. I plan to hire a cook-housekeeper. In fact, I’ll look into it tomorrow.”

      “What chores, then?” Shawn persisted.

      Linc glanced into his rearview mirror. “I’ve ordered a tractor and all the attachments needed to plow enough acres to grow a vegetable garden, plus olives and walnuts, which I hope will help defray some of the operational costs. I plan to keep a few head of beef, mostly to teach responsibility. And chickens, for eggs. Don’t you agree a little honest labor ought to rid us all of our city pallor?” He shot them a smile via the mirror.

      “We’re only staying here through the winter,” Shawn said, breaking off suddenly when someone—Eric, Linc saw—cut the heftier boy off with a solid jab to his solar plexus.

      “I’m figuring kids will come and kids will go,” Linc said with a shrug, looking forward to the day this particular group would pull up stakes and leave. “I’ve arranged to have cattle feed delivered for the winter. The guy who sold me the farm implements was very helpful. He said there should be enough nice days before the snow hits to till the soil and plant the olives and walnuts.”

      “How many acres?” Eric asked as if he’d taken an interest.

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