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Walking away from the engine, she stared out at the pasture dotted with cattle. Low clouds scudded across the horizon ridged by the Mississippi River levee. "Look, Charlie, I know things are scary right now, but you are being taken care of by a sweet lady who will spoil you rotten. You're fine and I can't come home. I have a job and it's how I afford hamburgers at PattyAnn's and getting an Icee at the Short Stop."
He didn't stop crying.
"I have to go. Everything will be okay." Then she hung up.
And felt like the cow patty sitting next to the fence line.
Sweet Jesus, she'd never known how crappy a person could feel by disappointing a kid.
"What's wrong?" Dutch asked, passing by her as he lugged the blue hose they'd used.
"Nothing," she lied.
"Doesn't look like nothing. You never take calls."
"Well, I had to take this one, and everything's fine." She turned, pocketing the phone, pushing her shoulders back. Not as if she could do anything about Charlie being scared, even if she wanted to flag down a car, hop in, and force the driver to take her to Reverend Beauchamp's house so she could scoop her brother into a hug and tell him it was okay. Thing was she wasn't certain Charlie would ever be okay. Losing your father and having a drug addict mother and an uncertain future weren't things that were easily overcome. Sure, he was only six and she was trying to help him, but having such an unstable environment wasn't good for a kid.
She knew firsthand.
She'd been dragged in and out of living situations by her mother. At one time her mother had been the quintessential suburban mom, making crustless sandwiches and organizing carpools, but once she fell out of love with Eva's father, she fell out of love with being a mother. At one point she'd asked Eva to start calling her by her first name. But Eva had refused to say, "What's up, Helene?" when she came home from school to find her mother entertaining the bass player for a local rock band or a weird artist-whoever it happened to be that day. Eva had to draw the line somewhere.
Jake eyed her but didn't make a remark as they loaded up.
As Hank pulled away, Eva set her helmet in her lap and looked out at the rushing scenery, her emotions in a tight tangle. She'd never felt this way. So helpless. She didn't know what to do. Charlie had gone through so much, and like a thoughtless brute, she'd dumped him on the first stranger who'd offered to help.
Okay, Fancy wasn't a stranger, but still, Eva was responsible for her brother and now he was crying and wanting her.
"Eva," Jake said softly.
She jerked her head around.
Concern etched his face. "Everything okay?"
Same question Dutch asked, but somehow when Jake asked it, she didn't feel so prickly.
"Sure."
"Eva," he said again. His voice felt like the sun coming up in the morning, softly probing the world it brightened.
This time she looked at him. "Charlie's crying."
"Why?"
Dutch looked up from where he tapped on his phone. "Is that your brother?"
"Yeah," Eva said, accepting the fact that everyone in town likely knew she was caring for Charlie. That was the negative of living in Magnolia Bend. Once one person knows, everyone knows. "He's six and Jake's mom is watching him while I'm on duty. He called crying. I don't know what to do."
Dutch smiled- a rare occurrence. "Now, this is where I can help you. See, kids know how to yank your chain. They know exactly what to say to make you feel guilty, especially when it comes to things like day care."
"He's not in day care. He's at Fancy's. That's like being at Disney World, but with better cooking and no weird characters."
"Well, if my uncle Carlton shows up, you can strike the weird character thing off the list," Jake joked.
"So you think he's just manipulating me?" she asked Dutch.
"I know he is. Don't you remember how shredded my nerves were a few years back when I had to drop Maisie off at day care? She stood in the window with her hand pressed against the glass crying "Daddy" over and over again. It was brutal. But Mrs. Sandifer said as soon as my truck disappeared she'd skipped over to play with her friends as if nothing was wrong."
Jake pulled his cell phone out of his bunker coat pocket and tapped. "Hey, Dad."
