Her Texas Rebel

Jarrod had talked to his captain? Why? He gave the man a level stare. “It’s not a gift. It’s experience. I’ve been where those boys have been. I understand what they’re going through.”

“He says you’ve helped more boys get out of gangs than the rest of his staff combined. Sounds like a gift to me.”

“I like to think I’m using my rebelliousness to allow me to connect with the kids no one else wants to deal with.” Was Jarrod aware of Tony’s teenage reputation in this town?

“While you’re here, I wondered if you would be willing to put your experience to use.”

“Surely you’re not having gang trouble in Salt Creek?”

“No.” Jarrod shrugged one shoulder. “At least, not yet. But we are experiencing some issues.”

“Issues?”

“Vandalism, theft.”

Tony shook his head. “Sounds like typical teenagers.”

“I thought so at first. But we’ve received reports of drug activity in the area. Maybe linked with a group home here in town.” Jarrod leaned back in his chair. “Some of the teenage boys have suspected gang ties.”

“So what do you want from me?” Bitterness soured his sweet tea. Was Jarrod looking for someone to tell him it was okay to send the kids away? Pack them up and ship them out. That’s how everyone wanted to deal with kids in the foster care system.

Jarrod reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He slid it across the table. “I want to help them. But I don’t know how. I’ve tried to get to know these boys but—”

“You were shot down.” Boys like that didn’t trust easily. Especially a deputy sheriff. Tony studied the list of names, complete with ages and where they were from.

The platinum blonde waitress appeared with their order. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Jarrod and Tony said in unison.

She started to walk away, then stopped and turned back toward Tony. “Don’t I know you? You look real familiar.”

He narrowed his eyes as he tried to place the woman. “Could be. I lived here for a few years.”

She studied him for a moment before a toothy smile brightened up her chubby face. “You’re Antonio Montoya’s grandson, ain’t ya?”

She set the coffeepot down and grabbed him by both arms. “Stand up, boy, let me get a look at ya.” She clicked her tongue. “I guess I just lost a bet.”

Betty. She’d been best friends with Sabrina’s mom and had taken Sabrina under her wing when her mom died. “What bet?”

“I figured you’d end up in jail ’fore you were twenty-one, but Sabrina always said you’d come back here one day and prove everybody wrong.”

“If it wasn’t for her, I probably would be in jail,” he told her honestly.

“When Sabrina lit out right after you, we was sure you two had run off together.”

His gut wrenched. No way had she tried to follow him. He’d made sure she wanted nothing to do with him. From her reaction yesterday, he had done a good job.

A customer across the café called her name and Betty gave him one last bear hug before leaving.

“You okay?” Jarrod’s face was one of concern. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“This town is full of ghosts.” He slipped the list into his shirt pocket. “Thanks for the lunch, Jarrod. Can we talk tomorrow?”

* * *

THE WARM SUMMER breeze flowed through the windows of Tony’s SUV. For the last two hours, he’d been touring the back roads of Salt Creek. His own trip down memory lane. But more recent events were troubling him. It’d been almost a week since he’d seen Sabrina. Why didn’t she ever come into town?

The setting sun bathed the cab of his truck in an orange glow, and his stomach growled. Time to head home. He slowed down as he approached the outskirts of town. The large brick school that housed kindergarten through twelfth grade looked the same, but the area surrounding the school had changed. The residential houses across the street had been replaced by mobiles. A sign identified one of the buildings as an alternative school. Code for the place where the troubled kids had to go.

Was that where they would’ve sent him? A small dirt road branched off the main one and disappeared over the top of a hill. One more stop down memory lane. Tony turned his SUV onto the gravel and followed it to the end. Little Mountain. The namesake of the children’s home.

Tony got out of his vehicle and climbed onto the warm hood. Leaning against the windshield, he listened to the wind rustling through the tall oak trees surrounding the area. The stars twinkled as the heat from the day began to ebb.

This was the first place that he’d been alone with Sabrina. He had done nothing but complain about Salt Creek and she’d been desperate to make him see the beauty of small-town life. So she brought him to Little Mountain. After a brief history lesson on the town, she’d spread a blanket out in the back of his old pickup truck. They were there for hours. Just talking. He never even held her hand, but it was the closest Tony had felt to anyone in his entire life.

Now, as he lay against the windshield and searched for the constellations she’d loved to point out, a sense of peace washed over him. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to look at the night sky? Too long. It was almost impossible to see stars through the glare of city lights.

His time in Salt Creek was slipping away. It was the middle of June. Half of his six-week sentence was over and he didn’t want it to end. He took a deep breath, and the smell of cedar trees, wildflowers and mesquite enveloped him. By the time he got back in his truck and headed slowly down the hill, lightning bugs were dancing in the tall grass.

As he approached the school, the lights on the outside basketball courts drew his attention. A group of boys tossed a ball around on the center court. He pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. Jarrod wanted him to get to know the boys in town. The best way to learn about someone was to watch them when they didn’t know they were being watched.

The group home was just on the other side of Little Mountain. How many of the boys on the court were from the home? And were they here unsupervised?

A few scantily clad teen girls chatted on the benches while watching the game. Another group of boys huddled together in the far corner of the parking lot.

One shadowed figure straightened up and turned toward Tony’s vehicle. His companions followed suit. When three of the boys broke off from the group and headed to him, Tony pulled out his smartphone and pretended to be sending a text.

Aware of every move made close to his truck, Tony didn’t look up from his phone until he heard a sharp rap on the window.

“You lookin’ for somebody?” Long brown hair fell in the young man’s face.

“A place, actually.” Tony looked down at his phone. “Little Mountain Group Home. Ever heard of it?”

“I’ve heard of it. Nothing there but a bunch of losers.”

Yep. This kid was definitely trouble. It was in the way he moved and talked. Tony recognized it because he’d been like that once. “I’m supposed to start volunteering there tomorrow morning and I want to be sure I know where I’m going.”

The boy placed one hand on the roof of Tony’s Durango. “Why would you do that?”

Tony shrugged. “I have to.”

He was purposely vague. Someone used to trouble would assume he’d been ordered to do some type of community service.

“Kyle,” one of the boys on the court shouted at a kid walking away. “Where you going? We need you.”

Tony remembered seeing a Kyle on the list Jarrod had given him and looked up to see a lanky kid strutting across the concrete. He stopped next to Tony’s truck.

“Wassup, Nick?” The kids bumped fists.