fingerprints to see if the kids are in the database.”
He figured as much, but wasn’t sure Bobby would be keen on cooperating. It didn’t matter. There were ways. “I’ll get them.”
“Okay, then. I’ll email the application form. Fill it out and send it to me as soon as you can.”
After hanging up, he went to the kitchen to refill his coffee. When he returned to his office, the application was waiting for him.
Wondering if he’d bitten off more than he could chew, he completed the form, hesitating only briefly before hitting the send button.
*
A week into her enforced sojourn on Russell’s ranch, Jane woke before dawn, restless and unable to stay in bed a moment longer. Despite hammering and painting her way through the outbuildings until she was so weary, anyone in their right mind would think she’d fall face first into bed and sleep without dreaming, she climbed out of bed with more on her mind than when she'd gone to bed.
Being raised in the orphanage had taught her a thing or two. One of them was that very few older children were ever fostered or adopted. There were probably statistics. She’d never bothered with them, since she wasn’t one of the lucky ones.
Abby was cute. She stood a chance of being picked up by loving parents. Bobby, on the other hand, had as much chance of that as a raindrop had of lasting more than a second in Hell.
She didn’t for a minute question if the kids came from a stable home. Once on your own, always on your own, was Jane’s experience.
When she was younger, she’d envied the kids who, one way or the other, found families, but even then she knew there was something about her prospective parents didn’t find appealing.
She smirked. She was more like Bobby than Abby - liking to walk on the wild side. A rebel from the get go. Okay, to call a spade a spade - defiant.
Her chances of being taken in by a normal, loving family had been zip. Nada. A big fat zero. Bobby had the same chance.
She had to do something about that. An idea she couldn’t get rid of lurked in the back of her mind. She went downstairs to make coffee strong enough to grow hair where it wasn’t wanted, and finding it already made, poured a cup. Bless Russell for liking his brew strong. She followed the faint light to his office.
He hunched over the keyboard, his overlong waves of hair brushing his collar, begging her itchy fingers to resume their exploration. His strong jaw was locked in fierce concentration on the screen in front of him. The shadow of a mustache and beard he hadn’t removed that morning had her clamping down on the sudden blast of desire to see if he could be enticed into another round of foreplay.
The irony didn’t escape her. She’d come to the ranch to, with this man’s help, dig at the roots of her own problems. Instead, she was about to champion two kids who basically meant nothing to her.
She tapped her knuckle on the door jam. Russell looked up, then leaned back in his chair.
Pulling up a seat, she sank into it. “You look like you’ve been at it awhile.”
“Couldn’t sleep. Too much to do.” He scrubbed his face with one strong, male hand.
She’d have to proceed with caution to get him to buy into her scheme. “What are you working on?”
He shrugged. “Checking a national register for missing children to see if Bobby or Abby are on it.”
She nodded. Too many kids went missing each year. What would happen to these two if they left Russell’s care?
Jane wasn’t good at the subtle approach, but before she could come up with an opening, the man claiming more than half of her attention leaned forward on his elbows, his admirable intensity focused completely on her. “Tell me about Madrid.”
They had more important things to talk about. Like making a future for Bobby and Abby on the ranch.
She sighed heartily. “I’d been in Madrid a year when I literally ran into Linus in the local bazaar. Or, he ran into me. He was living on the streets,
He figured as much, but wasn’t sure Bobby would be keen on cooperating. It didn’t matter. There were ways. “I’ll get them.”
“Okay, then. I’ll email the application form. Fill it out and send it to me as soon as you can.”
After hanging up, he went to the kitchen to refill his coffee. When he returned to his office, the application was waiting for him.
Wondering if he’d bitten off more than he could chew, he completed the form, hesitating only briefly before hitting the send button.
*
A week into her enforced sojourn on Russell’s ranch, Jane woke before dawn, restless and unable to stay in bed a moment longer. Despite hammering and painting her way through the outbuildings until she was so weary, anyone in their right mind would think she’d fall face first into bed and sleep without dreaming, she climbed out of bed with more on her mind than when she'd gone to bed.
Being raised in the orphanage had taught her a thing or two. One of them was that very few older children were ever fostered or adopted. There were probably statistics. She’d never bothered with them, since she wasn’t one of the lucky ones.
Abby was cute. She stood a chance of being picked up by loving parents. Bobby, on the other hand, had as much chance of that as a raindrop had of lasting more than a second in Hell.
She didn’t for a minute question if the kids came from a stable home. Once on your own, always on your own, was Jane’s experience.
When she was younger, she’d envied the kids who, one way or the other, found families, but even then she knew there was something about her prospective parents didn’t find appealing.
She smirked. She was more like Bobby than Abby - liking to walk on the wild side. A rebel from the get go. Okay, to call a spade a spade - defiant.
Her chances of being taken in by a normal, loving family had been zip. Nada. A big fat zero. Bobby had the same chance.
She had to do something about that. An idea she couldn’t get rid of lurked in the back of her mind. She went downstairs to make coffee strong enough to grow hair where it wasn’t wanted, and finding it already made, poured a cup. Bless Russell for liking his brew strong. She followed the faint light to his office.
He hunched over the keyboard, his overlong waves of hair brushing his collar, begging her itchy fingers to resume their exploration. His strong jaw was locked in fierce concentration on the screen in front of him. The shadow of a mustache and beard he hadn’t removed that morning had her clamping down on the sudden blast of desire to see if he could be enticed into another round of foreplay.
The irony didn’t escape her. She’d come to the ranch to, with this man’s help, dig at the roots of her own problems. Instead, she was about to champion two kids who basically meant nothing to her.
She tapped her knuckle on the door jam. Russell looked up, then leaned back in his chair.
Pulling up a seat, she sank into it. “You look like you’ve been at it awhile.”
“Couldn’t sleep. Too much to do.” He scrubbed his face with one strong, male hand.
She’d have to proceed with caution to get him to buy into her scheme. “What are you working on?”
He shrugged. “Checking a national register for missing children to see if Bobby or Abby are on it.”
She nodded. Too many kids went missing each year. What would happen to these two if they left Russell’s care?
Jane wasn’t good at the subtle approach, but before she could come up with an opening, the man claiming more than half of her attention leaned forward on his elbows, his admirable intensity focused completely on her. “Tell me about Madrid.”
They had more important things to talk about. Like making a future for Bobby and Abby on the ranch.
She sighed heartily. “I’d been in Madrid a year when I literally ran into Linus in the local bazaar. Or, he ran into me. He was living on the streets,
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