Linc slammed a fist down on the rusted car trunk. Kids are not just kids. Okay. Okay, you didnt know Id freak out over it. But you havent heard the last from me about this, thats for damned sure!
Linc snapped his phone shut, took another deep breath and dredged up a semblance of his old self. Mr. Tucker, uhGeorge. ErLydia Lincs usual aplomb faltered. Im the last guy equipped to deal with small kids. Wont you please stay? Just until I straighten out this mess with Oasis. Shouldnt take a day. Two, max.
Forget it, George snarled. We stuck it out long enough. As far as my wifes concerned, four months was too long. Theyre yours, with our blessing. Oh, the wife says theres meat in the freezer. Should last until you can get to town. With that, the old car rumbled off in a trail of blue smoke.
Linc felt as near to breaking down as he had since losing Felicity to a life he desperately hoped to change for other teens. Teens! That was the operative term.
Then, as if his day wasnt already in the toilet, Linc saw a band of scraggly teens ambling toward him along one side of the rutted lane. Five in all, preceded by a yappy dog of indeterminate origin. This couldnt be happening! He needed at least two weeks to ready the place for occupation, as John had been well aware. Clearly hed jumped the gun. John must have contacted his cop friend. How else would these kids know to come all the way out here?
Linc unleashed a string of colorful curses, which he bit back the instant he caught a huge grin lighting the dirty face of the boy on the porch. Had to be the biter.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Linc smacked his forehead hard with the heel of one hand. This was definitely not turning out to be his finest hour. What in hell was he supposed to do now?
A ray of hope glimmered and he snatched up his phone again. The solution was simple, really. Ted Gunderson from Oasis would just have to come and collect these leftover children. Tonight. That was all there was to it.
CHAPTER TWO
MIRANDA ADJUSTED her heavy backpack on already aching shoulders. Several miles back, shed ceased having any feeling in her blistered heels. No matter what negative things people might say about street kids, somewhere around Fresno it became clear to her that they couldnt be faulted for lack of stamina.
She, Jenny and her pals had been on the road for more than a week. Sometimes they hitched rides, but because they refused to split up, mostly they relied on shanks mare, as her daddy used to call hoofing it.
Eric, Shawn and Greg had started complaining in earnest after the last town disappeared and theyd entered this desolate road. If not for the fact that the nights were pitch-black and cold, Miranda wouldve been content to let the others turn back. She felt most sympathetic toward Jenny, whose thin jacket was no barrier against the weather. Midweek, long-haul truckers they encountered at a rest stop said it was spitting snow atop the Siskiyou mountain pass. Practically overnight, Mount Lassen, visible in the distance, looked like a vanilla ice-cream cone sparkling in weak sunlight.
Hey, look over there! Mirandas excited voice rose above Shawns griping about the driver whod just passed. Shh! Again she tried to compete with Shawns swearing and the barking dog. Theyd voted to name him Scraps to depict his throwaway status.
Making little headway, Miranda placed two fingers between her teeth. Her whistle garnered the attention of all but the dog. Sparing the dog a last exasperated glance, Miranda pulled out the battered flyer shed kept as a guide-post. I think weve found it. The ranch. Doesnt that house at the end of this lane look like the one pictured here?
Scraps scampered on ahead while the road-weary teens circled around Miranda to peer at the badly crumpled paper.
Its about time, Eric grumbled. Jennys got one sneaker worn all the way through.
Shawn, the heftiest of the three boys, rubbed his belly. I hope they havent already eaten. Im starved.
Greg punched his arm. Youre always starved. You think we didnt see Randi slip you half a pack of the hot dogs we bummed off those hikers yesterday?
The always-hungry boy glanced guiltily at his companions. I cant help it that my bones weigh more than your whole body, Greg. We didnt all have itty-bitty Korean moms. And for all we know, your dad couldve been a squirt. Not all sailors are bruisers, you know.
Miranda uttered a cranky sigh. A guaranteed way to create dissension was for anyone to bring up the shortfalls of a parent. Before starting out, theyd made a pact, agreeing that attacks of this nature were taboo, which had suited Miranda. Eric, who obviously had mixed-race parents, and Greg, who admittedly did, were touchiest. Before Miranda joined their ranks, Greg had confided to the others that his mom had made him learn English and had sent him to California, hoping her great-uncle would help Greg find the sailor whod left her pregnant and alone in Seoul. But the relative, an elderly man, had passed away. And Greg soon ran out of cash. Alone, hed had no luck locating the sailor in a grainy snapshot. His only clue other than the photo was the name Gregory Jones, which might or might not have been valid. The navy had a plethora of Gregory and G. Joneses, none of whom claimed to have fathered a child out of wedlock. But thanks to his early experience in Seoul, Greg was adept at street living. Even so, he was defensive as hell about almost everything.
Shawn, by contrast, was apparently the product of a wealthy but abusive dad and an actress whod flown the coop. Miranda would have thought hed be more sympathetic toward poor Greg. Instead, the boys bickered constantly, and she was getting fed up.
Guys, she cautioned, lets try and be on our best behavior when we meet the ranch owner. I, for one, am too beat to want him kicking us out of his program.
What do you mean, program? Eric narrowed perpetually angry dark eyes. The flyer didnt say we had to join any program to stay here.
Jenny curled a hand around Erics suddenly rigid forearm. Im cold, Eric. And Shawns starved. Can we quit arguing long enough to check out this guys gig? Back in L.A., we agreed Benny Garcia was right when he said wed be happier bunking here than hustling cots at fleabag shelters.
Who agreed? Eric, his thin face framed by shoulder-length dreadlocks that tended to make people view him as a hoodlum, grimaced. I let you talk me into it.
Miranda hadnt witnessed more than a close friendship between Eric and Jennycertainly not a romance. He was prone to fly off the handle, and the younger girl provided a calming influence for the boy. But shed discovered that all small homeless pods had a leader, and Eric, despite his moods, was theirs. So she was doubly relieved when, by tacit agreement, they moved in the direction of the sprawling ranch.
The barn, which they passed first, looked sturdy, even though it needed paint. Two long outbuildings flanking the main house were equally weathered but appeared to have new roofs. One, if not both, could house teens and/or serve as sleeping quarters for ranch workers. Miranda doubted Jenny and the boys had taken notice of the amenities, and she wouldnt bring it to their attention. Being older, and possessing a great deal more travel savvy that she needed to conceal, she took care during this trek not to preacha trait that ranked low with street kids. Nor did she want them speculating that she wasnt really one of them.