{"id":1114,"date":"2019-02-12T22:55:05","date_gmt":"2019-02-13T03:55:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/read.whitefire-publishing.com\/?p=1114"},"modified":"2020-06-01T09:07:07","modified_gmt":"2020-06-01T13:07:07","slug":"like-a-love-song","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/like-a-love-song\/","title":{"rendered":"Like a Love Song"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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\n

Like a Love Song<\/h3>\n\n\n\n

by\u00a0Camille Eide<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she finally surrenders her heart, will it be too late?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Susan Quinn, a social worker turned surrogate mom to foster teens, fights to save the group home she\u2019s worked hard to build. But now, she faces a dwindling staff, foreclosure, and old heartaches that won\u2019t stay buried. Her only hope lies with the last person she\u2019d ever turn to\u2014a brawny handyman with a guitar, a questionable past, and a God he keeps calling Father.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Like a Love Song<\/em>is a romantic drama about a fiercely loyal woman and some castaway kids who need the courage to believe in a love that never fails.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

\n\t\t\t\t\t

Chapter 1<\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t

Adoption disrupted \u2026 undisclosed behaviors \u2026\ninability to bond \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Susan Quinn squinted at the new girl\u2019s bio as the words on the page swirled\nin a taunting blur. She rubbed her eyes and refocused on the document. She was\nin no frame of mind for processing the information about Juniper Ranch\u2019s newest\nresident. Not after the unsettling confrontation she\u2019d just had with her\nhandyman. Or rather, former<\/em> handyman.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSue?\u201d Bertie padded into Sue\u2019s office, footsteps muted by Birkenstocks.\nIn spite of her hunched frame, the old woman got around like a flower-powered ninja.\n\u201cShe\u2019s here.\u201d Bertie peered out the window. \u201cThe new girl. But \u2026 I think you\u2019d\nbetter come take a look.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue dropped the sheet on her desk, adding it to the mounds of paperwork\nand overdue bills. What limbs she wouldn\u2019t give for this transfer to go\nsmoothly. But experience had taught her to hope for the best and prepare for\nthe worst. With a sigh, she headed for the office\u2019s outer door. \u201cWish me luck,\nBert.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bertie offered her a waiver form. \u201cHoller if you need me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue frowned at the paper. \u201cWhy do I need this? We\u2019ll take care of everything\nin the office.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWouldn\u2019t bet on it.\u201d Bertie nodded toward the window. \u201cLook.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue opened the door and peered outside.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A late-model Escalade sat in the drive beyond the front lawn, engine\nstill running. A man, barely visible behind tinted windows, remained in the car\nwhile an athletic-looking woman in designer warm-ups dropped two pink suitcases on the front porch of the main entrance.\nA black-haired girl stood beside the bags, shoulders cinched up so tight they nearly\ntouched her ears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jasmine\u2014the new girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue\u2019s heart tripped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman hurried back to the SUV. Halfway across the lawn she turned, said\nsomething to the girl, and then pointed to the front door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue\u2019s breath caught and stung. No.\nPlease don\u2019t. Not like that. Don\u2019t just dump her and go.<\/em> She rushed outside,\ndown the steps, and across the lawn. \u201cHi, Mrs. Walker?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The woman turned with a start. \u201cIs this Juniper Ranch group home?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes.\u201d As Sue approached, she glanced at Jasmine. The preteen was as\nstiff as a fence post.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe got lost trying to find the place.\u201d Mrs.\nWalker crossed her arms like a shield. \u201cWhere do I sign?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue couldn\u2019t answer. Bertie was right\u2014the woman\nwas ready to sign away her child on the hood of a car. Sue stole another look at\nJasmine, who stared at the hot pink bags in silence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Beyond the girl, curtains twitched in the den\nwindow, partially revealing the curious faces of Cori, Edgar, and Tatiana.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While Mrs. Walker signed the papers, the man remained\nat the wheel, shoulder belt still fastened. It took the woman all of six\nminutes to complete the paperwork.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A new Juniper Ranch record.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then the couple drove away. The Escalade\u2019s brake\nlights didn\u2019t blink once.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue joined Jasmine on the porch, feeling oddly\nconnected to the girl who hadn\u2019t uttered a sound. Sue had done this countless\ntimes and still didn\u2019t have the words. What could she possibly say to a kid who\nhad just been dumped off on a total stranger?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m\nsorry, sweetheart. I know the feeling. But you\u2019re among friends here.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue inhaled the dry, sage-scented air and made\na quick study of the new girl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Wafer thin. Cambodian, maybe Vietnamese. About\neleven or twelve. Jasmine\u2019s paperwork was a jumbled maze of inconsistencies and\nmissing information\u2014which was not uncommon\u2014so Sue would have to best-guess her\nage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, Jasmine.\u201d Sue summoned a bright smile\nfor a moment that was anything but. \u201cYou hungry? We\u2019re not serving dinner for a\nwhile, but I bet I can find you a snack.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The girl turned her gaze toward the long\ndriveway leading away from Juniper Ranch. The ribbon of dust disturbed by the\nEscalade rose and spread slowly, drifting in the afternoon sun, bound to settle\nin some other place.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pair of suitcases flanked Jasmine\u2019s feet,\nprice tags still attached. A couple of bags that held everything. And nothing.\nMuch like the beat-up green Samsonite that had, long ago, followed Sue to more\nfoster homes than she could count.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue\u2019s stomach growled as she grabbed a\nsuitcase. \u201cAll right, kiddo. Let\u2019s get your stuff inside. We\u2019ll get you set up\nin your new room.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jasmine turned then, her eyes almost level with\nSue\u2019s.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No shocker there. At five-two, Sue was used to\nmeeting preteens eye to eye.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The girl\u2019s face had no remarkable features. Wide\nnose, small eyes. No abnormalities, no physical handicap that Sue could see. No\nsign of the kinds of imperfections that often made Mr. and Mrs. Disenchanted\nback out of an international adoption.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What fears\nhaunt you, little friend? What coping quirks couldn\u2019t they handle?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI no need room.\u201d A frown creased the girl\u2019s\nbrow. \u201cI no\u2014I not<\/em> staying here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, we can discuss that. Just not here on\nthe front porch. Okay?\u201d She softened the question with a gentle smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jasmine\u2019s frown deepened. Thick tears pooled,\nglittering in her dark eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oh,\nhoney, no, please don\u2019t do that \u2026 <\/em>A quiet\nache squeezed Sue\u2019s heart. It wasn\u2019t the first time she\u2019d stood on these\nweathered steps, a silent witness to the aftermath of a \u201cdisrupted\u201d adoption.\nIt came with the job. But no matter how many times she\u2019d done this, she still\ncouldn\u2019t get used to watching a young heart break in the middle of her front\nporch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue shifted the girl\u2019s bag to her other hand\nand motioned with her head. \u201cC\u2019mon, kiddo. This way.\u201d She opened the front door\nand went inside. If she hesitated or looked back, it wouldn\u2019t work. \u201cIt\u2019s not\nDisneyland,\u201d Sue called over her shoulder, \u201cbut at least it\u2019s a place where you\ncan fit in.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The door hung open, letting in cool October air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue headed for the stairs. \u201cFitting in\u201d might\nbe aiming a bit high. But she would do whatever it took to make Jasmine feel\nlike there was one place in the world where she wouldn\u2019t be an outsider. Sue\nreached the staircase and paused.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No sounds of footsteps came from the porch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dragging a girl inside and forcing her to stay\nwasn\u2019t high on her list of favorite things to do. Come on, Jasmine. I\u2019m offering you some dignity here. Please take it. <\/em>Fighting\nthe temptation to look, Sue headed up the staircase, straining to hear sounds\nof Jasmine following.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Fourth step. Sixth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Take it\nfrom me, little one. The sooner you learn to stop longing, the sooner the pain\nwill go away.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ninth step.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The urge to look back reached a cresting point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then, shuffling footsteps and the click of the front\ndoor.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue turned and gave the skinny girl with the\npink suitcase a smile. \u201cC\u2019mon, slowpoke. Follow me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While Miss Elena\nintroduced Jasmine to the kitchen crew, Sue dashed to her office and grabbed the\nnew paperwork. Maybe she could learn something else about Jasmine while the kids\nwere occupied with dinner duties.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey, boss.\u201d Bertie came from the dining hall, trailed by the scent of\ntoasting garlic bread. \u201cBowman clocked on, but he\u2019s not\u2014hey, you okay? I didn\u2019t\nwant to mention it earlier, but you look like something not even Ringo would\ndrag home, and that dog\u2019s not picky.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThanks, Bert.\u201d Sue tugged the band from her frazzled braid and combed fingers\nthrough her blonde waves. \u201cYou know, you ought to try saying what you really\nthink instead of bottling it all up like that. It\u2019s not healthy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bertie snorted. \u201cYou think you\u2019re joking, but you have no idea what I\nhold back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHa.\u201d Sue returned her attention to the paper. Actually, after the day\nshe\u2019d had, she probably looked like she\u2019d been thrown under a tractor and dragged\nacross one of the neighbors\u2019 alfalfa fields. She needed no reminder that her\nprofessional look had taken a long departure from her social services days of\npantsuits and heels. But for running a place like this, a braid, sturdy boots,\nand a pair of well-worn jeans was <\/em>her\nprofessional look, and the only one that made any sense.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Besides, who was there to get all dolled up for? Juniper Valley, little\nmore than a speck of dust in the wide expanse of Oregon\u2019s outback, wasn\u2019t\nexactly swarming with eligible guys. Not that she had the time\u2014or the need\u2014for\nany of that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue massaged her throbbing temples. \u201cAbout Bowman\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe clocked on at three, but I haven\u2019t seen him. I think he might have\nleft.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bertie froze, her look instantly wary. \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue scanned the file once again. \u201cMr. Bowman no longer works here.\u201d When\nBertie didn\u2019t comment, Sue looked up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The thin line of the dorm supervisor\u2019s mouth made her look like a Muppet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSomething you want to tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bertie\u2019s gaze darted away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHave you seen him hung over at work after he was warned?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

With a shrug, Bertie took the paper from Sue and read it, frowning. \u201cHard\nto say what someone\u2019s been doing on their day off, boss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue stared at Bertie. \u201cYou\u2019re kidding, right? You know the rules.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYep.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI made it clear he\u2019d be gone if he ever showed up like that again. And\ntoday he\u2019s not only hungover, he\u2019s half hammered.\u201d Sue glanced out the window\ntoward the shop. If only she could go back to the first time she\u2019d talked to\nhim about the issue and follow her gut. \u201cI can\u2019t believe I gave him a second\nchance.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bertie glanced up. Sympathy radiated from behind her round lenses.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But in Sue\u2019s mind, another face came into view.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He won\u2019t do it again, Suzy. He just\nhad a li\u2019l too much. You know how he is \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

No, Mom,<\/em> ten-year-old Sue had finally\ngotten up the nerve to say. How should I\nknow how he is or how any of them are? Most of the time, I don\u2019t even know\ntheir names \u2026 <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, if he was warned,\u201d Bertie said, shutting\ndown Sue\u2019s ancient memory, \u201cthen he had it coming.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If anyone had earned the right to question Sue, Roberta \u201cBertie\u201d Hayes\nhad. \u201cHe knew the rules and signed the ranch\u2019s conduct agreement like everyone\nelse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019re right. Absolutely.\u201d Bertie\u2019s forehead pleated into a frown.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It wasn\u2019t like Bertie to hold back. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bertie tossed the paper onto the desk with a long sigh. \u201cIt\u2019s just\u2014what\nare we going to do? We got a mile-long list of repairs, and being short on care\nstaff, we were already pulling doubles, and now\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNowwe get creative and figure\nsomething out, just like we always do.\u201d Sue rubbed her temples. \u201cI won\u2019t\ncompromise safety just because we need a body. I\u2019d work myself to the grave\nbefore I\u2019d keep a guy like that on staff.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bertie locked Sue in a hard stare. \u201cTrouble is you\u2019re working the rest of\nus into the ground right along with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The pasty gray patches beneath Bertie\u2019s eyes matched the ones Sue had noticed\non her own face. The work had been harder lately, no doubt. She and the\nremaining core staff had to shoulder the load with the constant turnover of\ncollege interns, and worse, the loss of Emily, her best dorm counselor. Had it already\nbeen a year since Emily left?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cListen, Sue, I\u2019m not trying to add to our troubles. But in case you\nhaven\u2019t noticed, Elena and I are nearly shot from running short-handed. And now\nwe\u2019re down another staffer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our <\/em>troubles? <\/em>Sue studied Bertie. The care staff at\nJuniper Ranch shared Sue\u2019s heart for outcast kids but did they have the same vested\ninterest that she had in making this home work?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNow Elena and I will have to split the boys\u2019 dorm shifts,\u201d Bertie said.\n\u201cAnd I\u2019m not even going to bring up adult-to-child ratios.\u201d Arms crossed against\nher faded tie-dyed shirt, she pinned Sue with a steady look. \u201cWe need help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue nodded. \u201cYou\u2019re right, I\u2019m sorry. I\u2019ll get us some help. Right away.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

* * *<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On her way out to\nthe work shop, Sue mulled over the day\u2019s events. She did not regret her decision\nto fire Bowman\u2014the kids\u2019 safety came first. And the ranch would bounce back. It\nwould take more than a staff shortage to topple the system she\u2019d spent two\nyears building. Discipline and routine not only kept Juniper Ranch running\nsmoothly, it gave the kids a sense of stability, of normalcy. And these kids\nneeded to feel normal and stable even more than they needed food and shelter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But Bertie was right. Losing Bowman was a blow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue straightened the cardboard over a busted-out shop window, then made the\ncall to Layne Stevenson. Getting through to a DHS district manager was a lot harder\nnow than it was when Sue and Layne worked family<\/a> cases for the county.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Layne answered with a cheerful \u201chello,\u201d then listened as Sue asked about\ncollege interns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe didn\u2019t get many interns this term, but I\u2019ll see if I can figure out\nsomething.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue slipped inside the shop and flicked on the fluorescents. \u201cThanks,\nLayne. I owe you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSpeaking of help, I was going to call you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cReally? You\u2019re finally coming to work for me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTempting, but no.\u201d Layne chuckled. \u201cI\u2019m a newlywed, remember? I like going\nhome every night to a warm body. You oughta try it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue shook her head. Layne\u2019s \u201cwarm body\u201d was a former NFL linebacker who\nmade King Kong look like a Happy Meal toy. She shivered. \u201cI\u2019m plenty warm,\nthanks.\u201d She picked her way around the mess.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her Suburban sat in the center of the shop under a film of high desert dust.\nHer old Harley stood behind the Suburban, streaks of sunset glinting off the\nchrome, and her Honda dual sport was parked next to it. In one corner, the\nriding mower lay in pieces. In another, discarded car parts were piled in a heap\nlike a dismantled carcass, and most of her tools littered the shop as if\nthree-year-olds had been playing tune-up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSue, I hate to mention it, but your last licensing inspection\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know.\u201d Sue heaved a sigh. \u201cI\u2019m on it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Layne\u2019s end went silent for several seconds. \u201cReally? You\u2019ll have all the\nrepairs done in time for the follow-up?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue leaned against the Suburban. The latest list of repairs the state\nrequired to keep her license was the toughest she\u2019d ever received. With Bowman\ngone, Sue had no idea how she was going to get the repairs finished in time.\nShe groaned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll take that as a no,\u201d Layne said. \u201cListen, I\u2019ve got the perfect solution\nfor you. My brother\u2019s boss from Alaska is in the area, and he\u2019s looking for\ntemporary work until the first of the year. Dan said he\u2019s absolutely the best\nguy\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBoss of what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUm, well \u2026 an offshore oil rig. But he\u2019s\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAn oil rigger<\/em>?\u201d Sue hacked out\na laugh. \u201cA roughneck? Great. Who are you going to send next, a lumberjack and\na couple of bikers? Maybe they can pull night watch in the girls\u2019 hall.\u201d Sue\nyanked open the driver\u2019s door of her Suburban, climbed in, and cranked the key.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few feeble chugs, then nothing. Big surprise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m serious, Sue. Joe is an all-around handyman and knows how to manage\na crew.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure he\u2019s charming, Layne. On an oil rig. But I need someone with\nexperience handling kids with special needs. You know that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, in the long run, in optimal circumstances, absolutely. But you\u2019re\ngoing to give old Bertie a stroke if you don\u2019t get some help. You have to hire someone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sue rested her aching head on the steering wheel. Pain and fatigue rolled\nover her in a cold fog. Why couldn\u2019t Emily have stuck around instead of running\noff to Scotland?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSue?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She slipped out of the Suburban. \u201cSorry, Layne, but Juniper Ranch isn\u2019t\nhiring oil drillers. If you want to help, find me some experienced temps or at\nleast a couple of interns. Just make sure the interns know they\u2019ll be living in\nthe desert a hundred miles from the nearest club. Thanks.\u201d She let herself out\nof the shop and trudged the path back to the porch.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From somewhere inside the house, a metallic crash rang out, followed by shouts.<\/p>\n\n\n