Her Texas Rebel

“Did the big city affect your memory?” The other woman reached over to squeeze her hand. “We did go to high school together. We were in CNA classes at the same time.”

Sabrina repressed a grin. Marissa had been the first one to faint at the sight of blood. She’d quit after the second week. “Yes, I still have my license.”

“Good. That’s partly why I’m here.” Marissa fished into her purse and slid a business card across the table.

Sabrina read it. “Independent healthcare contractor?”

“Yes.” Marissa nodded. “I work for Crestview Health Care Contracting.”

Sabrina leaned back in her chair. “Are you offering me a job?”

Marissa arched one delicately shaped eyebrow. “Well, technically, I can’t offer you a job until you apply for it. Interested?”

Sabrina’s throat tightened. “Absolutely. What is it?”

“On-site medical assistant for the alternative school in town.”

That was the second time today she’d heard the alternative school mentioned. “What exactly is an alternative school and why do they need someone in the summer? Isn’t school out right now?”

Marissa took a long drink of tea. “Most of the students come from Little Mountain Children’s Home. The home hires staff in the summer while house parents get some leave time.”

“House parents?”

“They want the kids to feel like they’re home, not in a facility, so children live in homes with a couple that serves as their foster parents. During the summer, the couples recharge, so they need a medical assistant on-site to help handle any issues that come up.”

Sabrina’s mind raced back to the times she traveled with her church youth group to volunteer at the children’s home in Cherokee. “Do I have to stay on-site? Overnights, I mean.”

“No,” Marissa said. “The kids double up with other house parents at night, but they like to have one person who is aware of the medical needs of all the students. You know, one constant among the change.”

Sabrina bit her bottom lip. Although she couldn’t remember specific faces from so long ago, there was one thing she did remember about the kids. How eager they were to love. And be loved. “I imagine some of those kids have seen too much change.”

“So, you’ll come to my office tomorrow and apply for the job?”

“Yes. But why me? According to my dad, there are tons of CNAs in the area.”

Marissa pressed her lips together. “The truth? The kids can be a little rough and some of them have some serious issues. So far, no one’s been able to last more than a month.”

“What makes you think I’ll be any different?”

“When we were growing up, you took in every stray animal and every outcast that moved to town. I’m willing to bet some things haven’t changed.”

“I also let people use me as their doormat and take advantage of me. That’ll never happen again.”

“I always knew there was a tough nut under that soft exterior. Are you in?”

Sabrina paused. If she was going to get Levi the counseling he needed, she had to have an income. Maybe working with troubled youth would give her some insight into helping her own son.

Wait. She straightened up. “Do the residents at Little Mountain receive any kind of counseling?”

“They have group sessions every Thursday and a few of the older ones receive one-on-one counseling. Why?”

“I’ll take the job if Levi can participate.”

“Deal.” Marissa grinned. “By the way, does Tony know he has a son?”

CHAPTER FOUR (#ubd1f6704-cb28-576d-96db-ab50cfcebb0e)

TONY STARED AT the television, but had no idea what he’d just watched. He stood up and paced around the living room. He’d finished the breathing treatments the doctor had ordered and was given the okay to start exercising. Lightly. Right. Tony didn’t understand the meaning of light exercise. What good was it if it didn’t make him sweat and leave him tired?

The phone in the kitchen rang and his grandmother answered. “Tony, it’s for you.”

Who would call him here? Most people called his cell. “Hello?”

“Tony Montoya?” an unfamiliar voice greeted him. “My name is Jarrod Butler. I work with the Lampasas County Sheriff’s Department.”

“Hello, Jarrod. What can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if you could meet me for coffee. I’d like to discuss some things with you.”

What did someone from the sheriff’s department want with him? “Yeah, sure. What time?”

“I have time right now. How about meeting me at The Eagle’s Nest in about twenty minutes? I’ll buy lunch.”

The Eagle’s Nest. Any place but there. His first instinct was to insist on discussing this on the phone, but curiosity got the better of him. “Sure. See you in a few minutes.”

He’d been through town several times in the weeks since his return, but this was the first time that he paid attention to his surroundings. It looked the same as it had...well...almost. A few more of the old buildings were boarded up. The drought that had racked the area over the past few years had taken a toll on the small ranching community and many of the smaller mom-and-pop shops had closed. How much longer would the place be able to survive?

When he paused at the town’s only intersection, next to what used to be a dry-goods store, Tony scanned the graffiti on the weathered lumber across the window. A force of habit. There were no gang signs or hidden warnings in the scribbles on the warped wood. Just kids looking for something to do.

The gravel crunched under his tires as he pulled into the café parking lot. He recognized many of the vehicles. More proof that small towns were reluctant to change. Might as well get this over with.

Pausing at the café’s entrance, he tried to shake off the feeling that he truly was about to walk through time. A small bell rang when he opened the door. He scanned the dining area but didn’t see a uniformed officer anywhere.

Nostalgia punched him in the gut as he slid into a booth to wait for Jarrod to arrive. How many hours had he sat in the exact same booth, waiting for Sabrina to finish her shift as a waitress here? He shook his head, warding off the memories.

“Tony? I’m Jarrod Butler, I’m an investigator with the Lampasas County Sheriff’s Department.” He looked up to see a redheaded man with freckles.

Standing up, he shook the man’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” He followed Jarrod to a secluded area at the back of the café.

The waitress greeted them. Makeup pancaked her face in an attempt to cover the wrinkles. “What can I get for y’all?”

The aroma of fried chicken overpowered his resolve to find out what Jarrod wanted and leave. “Give me the special and a glass of sweet tea.”

Jarrod placed his order and then they were alone. He swirled his water glass, watching Tony carefully. “I read the article in the paper about you. Impressive.”

“I was just doing my job.”

“I talked to your captain.” Jarrod leaned his forearms on the table. “He says you’ve got quite a gift for working with troubled kids.”