“What’s wrong with you?” Rachel asked without preamble.
“Wrong?”
“Yes, genius. Kealey’s been assigned as caseworker to the kids. Which means she has control over whether you can keep them.” Her tone grew caustic. “Couldn’t you have dipped her hands in acid, or set fire to her shoes to really show your feelings?”
Exasperated, Luke stared at his sister. “She was on the date with me. She knows we didn’t hit it off.”
“If there was the slightest possibility she’d forgotten, it was certainly diplomatic of you to remind Kealey that you can’t stand her.”
“Do you think she’ll hold it against me?”
“You’d better hope not. For the children’s sake.”
Luke glanced toward the living room. In a matter of hours he’d turned his life upside down. And now the fate of three innocent children depended on whether he could change his tone with Kealey Fitzpatrick.
He shook his head, knowing he had a better chance of getting rid of his sisters before they drove him crazy.
Dear Reader,
As a hopeless romantic, I am always drawn to a hero who protects and inspires. Luke Duncan is that kind of hero. Protector of children and animals, he is a man without equal.
Enter stage left, a heroine who no longer believes people with integrity like his exist. Throw in three orphans, a menagerie of pets and strays, and you have Substitute Father.
This book is special to me for many reasons. I hope you will fall in love with the characters as I have, perhaps even reserve a spot in your heart for the pets who love us for who we are, rather than who we wish to be. And, most of all, I hope you enjoy the journey I’m about to take you on.
Sincerely,
Bonnie K. Winn
Dedicated to my brother, Gary Yedlovsky, a true hero in every possible way.
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EPILOGUE
Greenville, Texas
LUKE DUNCAN IDLY scanned the metallic streamers that hung over the cash register of the grocery store’s film counter. It looked to him as though the booth contained enough lottery tickets for half the smallish town.
“Feeling lucky?” the clerk asked, following his gaze to the lottery tickets.
Luke glanced at the sacks of groceries resting in his cart. “Actually, I need to pick up my pictures. Name’s Duncan.”
She nodded and turned to a drawer holding the developed film. As she did, he maneuvered his cart to the end of the counter to clear a path for the other customers. It was clever of the store’s management to position the film and lottery counter so close to the exit. The location made it easy for patrons who had already paid for their groceries, to pause and purchase a bit of the state-run fantasy.
“Did you say Duncan?” the clerk asked, sifting through the drawer.
He leaned over the counter, trying to read the names on the plump yellow envelopes. “Yes, Luke Duncan. I brought in my film about a week ago. I had two rolls.”
“Here’s one of them,” the clerk announced, placing the packet on the counter.
Eager to look at the photos, Luke opened the envelope, letting the pictures spill out into his hands.
The clerk rummaged a bit more, then spun back around with the other packet in her hand. Her flirtatious smile faded as her brows drew together. “Isn’t that your cart?”
Distracted by the pictures he was viewing, Luke didn’t glance up. “My cart?”
“Look!” She pointed toward the exit.
Belatedly, he saw what she was talking about. “What the…?”
Luke spotted a young boy wheeling his grocery-filled cart out the door. Shock held him still for a moment, then he hollered. “Wait!”
The boy turned for an instant. But instead of slowing down, he began to run, pushing the loaded cart across the lot with remarkable speed.
Luke watched for a few seconds in disbelief, then fumbled with the slippery pictures filling his hands. Dropping the photos on the counter, he barely paused. “Keep an eye on these, will you?”
The clerk, looking equally dumbfounded, nodded.
Luke tore off toward the door, still unable to believe the boy was stealing his groceries. That sort of thing didn’t happen in their midsize Texas town. Greenville was big enough that you didn’t know everyone, but small enough that you could leave a cart of groceries unattended and expect it to be safe. But that same cart of groceries was barreling across the busy street.
Luke sprinted the length of the parking lot, but the light was red when he reached the curb. Fast-moving cars and trucks filled the road since it was shift change at the local machine works factory.
Luke’s feet scarcely remained on the concrete as he waited to cross the street, determined to catch the little thief. But when the light changed and the traffic cleared, the boy wasn’t in sight.
Cursing to himself, Luke thought he’d lost his quarry, but then he caught a glimpse of the cart as it whipped around a corner. Luke bolted across the street, gaining speed as he neared the spot he’d last seen the cart. But when he turned into the alley, it was empty.
Then his eyes narrowed. One screen door in the deserted lane stirred ever so slightly, possibly the result of being slammed shut. Luke approached cautiously. It occurred to him that the boy might not be working alone. Perhaps it was a ruse orchestrated by an adult who wanted bigger pickings than groceries.
His gaze alert, Luke pushed open the door. It was dark inside, but as his eyes adjusted to the dim interior, he could see that it appeared to be an abandoned store. Empty metal racks and cardboard boxes were scattered through the musty space. But there were no signs of an ambush.
Still, Luke didn’t lower his guard as he stepped farther inside. Then he spotted it—the shiny metal of a grocery cart gleaming through the dust motes. Although it was partially pushed behind a curtain, there was no mistaking the distinctive buggy. The kid was clever, but not clever enough. He’d picked the wrong sucker to steal from.
Luke ripped open the curtain. “All right you…” The words died away as Luke stared at the young robber. The terrified boy stared at him defiantly as he shielded two younger children, a boy and a girl. As Luke fumbled for words, the girl burst into tears.
The child who had stolen his cart pulled her closer, but she continued crying.
Luke knelt down, patting her shoulder. “It’s okay now, no need for tears. No one’s going to hurt you.” Then he met the oldest boy’s eyes. “Why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”
For a few moments the boy stood mute, his mouth set in a stubborn line.
Luke, however, didn’t back down.
Finally the boy wavered a fraction. “You didn’t need this stuff.”
Seeing how frightened the children were, Luke kept his tone mild. “That’s not the issue. I want to know why you stole my groceries.”
“They gotta eat!” the boy burst out.
Luke stared at the child, a sickening pit forming in his stomach. “What do you mean?”
“We don’t have no food,” the youngest boy explained.
The pit in Luke’s stomach hardened. “Were you planning to take the groceries home to your parents?”
The oldest boy momentarily looked panicked, then his mouth thinned again, a determined if futile gesture.
The younger boy wasn’t as stoic. “We don’t have no parents.”
For a moment, Luke just looked at the children. “Why don’t you tell me your names?” he urged finally, heartsick at their plight.
“I’m Troy,” the youngest boy offered.
Luke nodded, then smoothed one hand over the girl’s matted hair. “And how about you?”
“Hannah,” she managed to say, her tears beginning to subside.
Luke leveled his gaze on the oldest boy.
Reluctantly the child spoke. “Brian Baker.”
“And I’m Luke Duncan. Where have you been staying?”
Brian’s gaze traveled to a few ragged sacks on the floor.
Luke had to take a deep breath to hide his shock. Luckily the August nights were warm, otherwise the kids could have become seriously ill. Straightening up, he withdrew his cell phone. “I’ll call the police and get you some help.”
“You can’t do that, mister!” Brian hollered, before Luke could dial.
“You can’t!” Hannah echoed, then started sobbing again.
“Whoa!” Luke replied. “I just want to get you some help.”
“They’ll separate us!” Brian shouted. “We can do just fine on our own!”
Luke’s gaze encompassed the bare, dirty space. “I can see that. But if your parents abandoned you—”
“They didn’t!” Brian shouted in reply.
“Mama died!” Troy told him. “She wouldn’t just go off and leave us!”
Even more perturbed, Luke slowly lowered the phone. “When did she die?”
“Couple weeks ago,” Brian answered sullenly. “They were coming to take us away when we left.”
“Maybe the authorities had found relatives who could take you in. That doesn’t mean you’d be separated.”
“They were going to put us in foster homes,” Brian replied. “Separate foster homes. We heard ’em.”
“What about your father?” Luke asked gently.
“He died a long time ago,” Troy told him solemnly. “When I was borned.”
Luke glanced from face to face, seeing pain, terror and worse—a disheartening lack of hope. No doubt they were hungry and tired as well. “Okay, I won’t call the police. For now.”
Brian looked suspicious but relieved.
Luke considered his options and knew he had only one. “You’re all going home with me.”
“We don’t want nothin’ from you,” Brian asserted. “We’ll pay you back for the food.”
“I have a better idea. We’ll take the groceries to my house and cook some supper. Then you can help me figure out how to work my PlayStation.”
Although Troy looked intrigued, Brian was still resistant. “We’re fine here.”
Hannah hiccuped. “I’m hungry.”
Obviously torn, Brian stared first at his younger sister, then at Luke.
Taking charge of the situation, Luke tugged the cart from behind the curtain, turning it toward the door. After shifting the groceries, he picked up Troy and deposited him in the cart. Then he lifted Hannah to rest on his hip. Luke kept his tone mild as he met Brian’s gaze. “You coming with us?”
With no other choice, Brian nodded.
“Where are your things?” Luke asked.
Brian shrugged and again Luke felt his heart constrict. Not even a change of clothes among them. “Traveling light has its advantages.”
Brian nodded, but Luke could see the boy’s throat working, either from gratitude or shame. Casually, Luke draped one arm over Brian’s shoulders. “I’ll need your help to get the younger ones across the street.”
Brian straightened up and nodded, obviously relieved to be assigned some responsibility. Briefly, Luke wondered at the hand of fate that had placed these kids in such a predicament. Then he concentrated on getting them out of the alley.
It didn’t take long to get them into his Bronco. Luke wasn’t certain if it was fatigue or fear that kept the children quiet once inside.
Within a few minutes, Luke drove the short distance from the grocery store, then stopped the SUV in front of his rambling, old Victorian home. The large house looked imposing, but he’d purchased it for a song, doing most of the renovation and restoration work himself. It had proven perfect for both his home and his veterinary practice, which was located in the front of the house.
“You live here?” Troy asked, obviously impressed by the proportions of the house.
Luke unbuckled their seat belts. “Yep. It gets kind of drafty in the winter, but otherwise it’s okay.”
“Okay…” Brian repeated in awe, staring up at the third-floor dormer windows of the attic.
Luke wanted to chuckle at their reaction, but realized the children would think he was laughing at them. Instead, he handed each one a sack of groceries, then shepherded them up the walk.
Once inside, they stared upward at the impressively tall ceilings. Luke remembered a similar feeling when he’d first stepped inside the house. Then it was run-down, in danger of being condemned. But he had seen past the ramshackle condition to the possibilities contained beneath layers of peeling paint, torn wallpaper and threadbare carpet.
“Put the sacks on this table,” Luke instructed, showing them an old drop-leaf hall table that had once belonged to his grandparents.
Although they complied, each one was trying to take in the unusual house.
“Who else lives here?” Brian asked, still gaping.
Just then several dogs started barking ferociously. All three children turned to stare.
“That you, Luke?” Wayne Johnson called out from the clinic portion of the house.
“Yep! Come on out here.”
Curtained French doors swung open. A fortyish man stepped out, wiping his hands on a towel. The volume of the dogs’ barking increased with the opening of the doors. Wayne carefully looked over the trio of children. But he didn’t show more than mild surprise. “Howdy.”
The kids responded with a variety of greetings.
“I don’t suppose you all are here to help me with the critters,” Wayne commented.
Luke smiled, realizing his assistant had accurately assessed the situation. His calm demeanor was helping defuse the tense atmosphere.
“Critters?” Troy asked.
“Yep. Dogs, cats, a raccoon, couple of ducks and even a snake.”
The kids faces reflected varying shades of fascination.
“Snakes are icky,” Hannah announced. But the boys didn’t look as though they agreed.
Relieved to hear her speak without crying, Luke sent his assistant a look of gratitude. “Tell you what, guys. If we can talk Wayne into giving you the grand tour, I’ll start some supper.”
“Be my pleasure,” Wayne told them. “Course I might need a volunteer or two to help with the ornery animals.”
Their eyes grew even rounder as they trailed Wayne into the clinic.
Not bothering with the groceries, Luke strode quickly into the kitchen. In moments he was dialing the phone. His sister, Rachel, a social worker for the county, answered her office phone on the first ring.
Quickly he filled her in on the situation.
“Do you want me to send someone to pick them up?” she asked, concern filling her voice.
He paused. “Actually, Rach, I want to keep them here until you can find their relatives. That shouldn’t take too long. I was hoping you could get me some sort of temporary permission.”
“Why you?”
“They’ve been through so much already. They’re scared to death of being separated. They were tired, hungry. And if you could see their faces…”
Rachel’s own compassion was felt in the sigh that reverberated over the phone line. “Enough said. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Rach. Oh, do I need to call the police, let them know the kids are here?”
“No, I’ll take care of that. If they’re telling the truth, there’ll be a record of the mother’s death.”
“Why would kids lie about a thing like that?”
“You forget, I’ve seen more kids in trouble than you have.”
“Granted. But I don’t think these kids had any trouble until their mother passed away.”
“Maybe not.” She hesitated. “Luke, you’ve been bringing home strays, animals and people, since pre-school. Don’t get too attached. This won’t be more than a temporary solution.”
“Yeah, I know. And that’s all I want. You’re bound to turn up some relatives soon. But until then, someone needs to give them a break. Besides, I have a sister in Social Services who can pull a few strings.”
“Actually, I think that’s called a conflict of interest. I can probably get you the temporary permission, but I can also guarantee that if anything more is involved, my supervisor will assign the case to someone else faster than the ink can dry.”
“Do what you can, sis.”
“Don’t I always?” Rachel questioned wryly. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
After thanking her, Luke retrieved the groceries from the front hall and started cooking. Having been raised with seven brothers and sisters, he’d learned early on how to cook huge meals. While he chopped and diced, Luke called his oldest sister, Mary. Hearing about the orphans’ plight, she offered to bring pajamas and clothes, which was what he had been hoping she’d do. Since she had five children of her own, she had plenty of hand-me-downs.
Soon the aromas coaxed the children back from the clinic to the kitchen. Luke’s dogs, Bentley, a golden retriever, Miles, a border collie mix, and Ginger, an undefinable mix, followed them. His cats, Spencer and Kate, made separate appearances.
It was clear from the children’s ravenous appetites that they’d missed many meals. They’d barely finished eating when his sister Mary and her oldest daughter rang the bell. Apparently, Mary had called his other sister, Ruth, who came by shortly afterward with three of her children.
There was something about a big family that defied quiet.
In typical Duncan fashion, the house vibrated with noise as they opened boxes filled with clothes, blankets, pillows and toys. Not much later, his brother, Peter, arrived in his pickup truck. It was loaded with a set of bunkbeds his children had outgrown along with a twin bed he’d collected from another brother, Matt, who had ridden along to help unload and set up the beds.
The children looked overwhelmed by all the people and attention. Just then the doorbell rang again. It was Rachel, his younger and favorite sister.
She shook her head as they entered the living room, gazing at the confusion. “How’d they find out about the kids?”
“My big mouth,” he admitted. “I was just hoping for pajamas and a change of clothes.”
Rachel didn’t restrain her chuckle. “You know what they’re like. Didn’t you tell them this was just for a few days?”
“Yep. I don’t think anyone was listening, though.” His gaze sharpened. “I hope you’re not here in person because you have bad news.”
She screwed her face in a noncommittal expression.
“Rachel?”
“It’s not exactly bad.”
The doorbell rang yet again.
Luke swore briefly beneath his breath. “What now? Or should I say who now?”
“Luke—” Rachel began.
“In a minute. I’ll get rid of whoever that is and be right back.”
Luke yanked open the door, but his greeting was never uttered.
Kealey Fitzpatrick stood on his front porch, looking as stiff and uncomfortable as she had on their disastrous blind date months earlier. But what was she doing here?
Then it struck him. He turned to stare at Rachel, who had trailed him to the door.
“I tried to explain,” Rachel began.
“Explain?” he growled.
“I told you the case would probably be assigned to someone else.”
Someone else, yes. Kealey Fitzpatrick, no. The woman had the warmth and personality of tumbled marble. Still, he kept his voice low as he turned back to Rachel, so that only his sister could hear. “If this is some sort of convoluted way of trying to fix me up with her again—”
“No, Luke. It was just the luck of the draw. I didn’t have any control over who my supervisor chose.”
He groaned, then turned back to Kealey, reluctantly opening the door wider. “Come in.”
She hesitated, but only for a moment. “I will need to speak to the children.” Glancing past Luke, Kealey met Rachel’s eyes in silent acknowledgment.
“They’re in the living room.” Luke closed the door, then led her inside. He hoped she wouldn’t snatch them away tonight, eager to put them in some cold institution.
Kealey paused as they stepped across the threshold. It seemed noise and movement came from every square inch of the room. Mary and Ruth didn’t skip a beat, continuing to outfit the kids with clothes and accessories. It was something Luke was accustomed to.
But Kealey seemed to pale at all the chaos. She turned to Luke. “Which ones are they?”
Since Brian, Hannah and Troy were surrounded by his nieces and nephews, Luke could understand Kealey’s confusion. “I’ll introduce you.”
He did, and the noise subsided considerably.
Before the children could grow fearful of another stranger, Kealey smiled gently at them. “Hi, I’m Kealey.”
Three small heads bobbed up and down cautiously.
Her smile, warm and reassuring, surfaced and Luke stared at her in amazement. He hadn’t guessed she possessed any warmth. As quickly, it occurred to him that she might have a difficult time keeping her job if it became known that she was cold and uncaring with kids.
Kealey knelt down beside the children. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling?”
“Okay,” Brian answered for the trio, still assessing her.
“We’re going to help Luke with giving them baths,” Mary offered with a tentative smile. “And we’ve brought over pajamas.”
“Fine,” Kealey replied, before turning back to the children. “Then maybe we can talk some more.”
Luke leaned close to Kealey. “Could I speak to you for a moment?” Not waiting for a reply, he cupped her elbow, guiding her out of the room and into the entry hall. “Look. They’ve had a helluva day. Can’t we wait till tomorrow for the third degree?”
Something flickered in her eyes and he wondered if his words had penetrated her icy exterior. Surely they hadn’t offended her, had they?
Then she spoke and he dismissed the notion. “Fine. I’ll be back in the morning.”
He walked her to the door, drawing it open. “I’m sure you will.”
Again that unfathomable expression flickered deep in her eyes and then was gone. She nodded, turning away.
Closing the door, Luke turned around. To his surprise, Rachel stood in the hallway. And everything about her stance promised trouble.
“What’s wrong with you?” she asked without preamble.
“Wrong?”
“Yes, genius. Kealey’s been assigned as caseworker to the kids. Which means she has control over whether you can keep them on a temporary basis, or if she’ll insist on putting them in a state home.” Her tone grew caustic. “Couldn’t you have dipped her hands in acid, or set fire to her shoes to really show your feelings?”
Exasperated, Luke stared at his sister. “She was on the date with me. She knows we didn’t hit it off.”
“Well, by all means, if there was the slightest possibility that she’d forgotten, it was certainly diplomatic of you to remind her that you can’t stand her.”
“Rachel, that’s a bit extreme. What I can’t figure out is why you ever set me up with a cold fish like her. More importantly, why you’d want her for a friend.”
“That’s the point, isn’t it?” she retorted. “You didn’t bother to find out.”
“Granted. But Kealey didn’t want me to get to know her. She was equally relieved to have the date end.”
“That’s not exactly a glowing review of you, either!” Rachel reminded him.
“So it’s not.” Luke hesitated. “Do you think she’ll hold it against me?”
“You’d better hope not. For the children’s sake.”
Luke glanced back toward the living room. In a matter of hours he’d turned his life upside down. And now the fate of three innocent children depended on whether he could change his tone with Kealey Fitzpatrick.
He shook his head, knowing he had a better chance of getting rid of his older sisters before they drove him crazy. And from the increasing noise level in the other room, that, too, would be damn near impossible.
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.