It Had to Be Him(30)

He’d only hurt her again.





Josh ran through his to-do list quicker than expected. By noon, he’d scratched off: buy Meg a car, set in place a plan to make it look like Meg won the car, and have materials for a new dock delivered. The last remaining item was the one he had the most trepidation about.

Anderson Butte was only a few hours away from the ranch where he’d grown up after his mother had died. He’d never known who his father was. It had been just him and his mother in their small apartment. Looking back, they were probably poor, but the complex had a pool and a park nearby where they played and had fun.

But then one day, his mother never showed to pick him up from school. The principal had stayed and waited with him until it had become dark, then a stranger came for him and took him to his house. After the apartment manager let them in, the lady who’d picked him up told him to pack a bag of clothes and that he’d never see his mother again because she’d been killed by a man who’d robbed the store where she worked. At six years old he’d become a ward of the state, moving from place to place until he’d ended up at the ranch.

The few memories he still had of his mother were good ones.

He didn’t have many fond memories of the ranch, though, and little desire to relive the painful ones, but he needed to close out the circle. Return to that part of his past and do something good for those boys who were like he’d been. Make a positive out of one of the biggest negatives of his life.

And maybe Charlie would still be around.

Mr. Jennings, the only decent counselor he’d ever had, had seemed genuinely happy to hear from him when Josh had called earlier and mentioned he’d like to lend a hand in some way and that he might stop by if he had time.

So, no more stalling.

Josh climbed into his truck and headed south.

With each mile he traveled closer to the ranch, childhood memories of uncertainty and fear about his future kicked around in his gut. Sometimes he’d make himself so sick with worry it’d bring on another asthma attack. If it hadn’t been for Charlie, he’d never have survived all the years there. So, he’d embrace his current physical discomfort, file it away, then use it for when it was his turn to help some lost kid in return.

After just under two hours, he approached the tiny town near the ranch, noting the stark contrast between it and Anderson Butte. The neglect, the boarded-up shops, the tumbleweeds, and the pothole-lined streets. There was no nearby lake or hotel for tourism. It was just another of the fast-disappearing small towns in northern New Mexico.

Bumping down the narrow excuse for a road, he finally spotted the familiar sideways double Ds seared into the weathered wood that framed the entrance to the Lazy D’s Ranch.

As he pulled up to the main house, a group of boys tending to a broken fence stopped working. Four sets of eyes, all sending him suspicious glares, tracked his progress as he parked and got out of the truck. Newcomers usually brought bad news. Either one of their friends was being shipped somewhere else or heading off to a trial and they’d never see the kid again. Or it might be a new counselor. Someone twice as mean as the last one.

“Hey, guys.” Josh lifted a hand in greeting as he approached the tatted-up teens. “Mr. Jennings around?”

The biggest kid in the group crossed his inked-up arms over his puffed chest. “Who wants to know?”

There’d been kids just like this one when he’d lived here too. Mr. Tough Shit.

Just as Josh was about to answer, a familiar voice rang out. “Granger? That you?”

When Josh turned around and spotted the man he’d come to see, he smiled. Mr. Jennings didn’t seem so big and imposing anymore; he looked . . . old. Still the same shaggy haircut but with streaks of gray now. What he’d used to think of as arms as big as tree stumps had gone a little flabby with age and his belly had followed along the same path. But the ever-present kindness in his pale-blue eyes hadn’t changed.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Jennings.” Josh held out his hand for a shake, but Mr. J gave him a bear hug.

“Great to see you, Josh.” He released him, then shook his head. “How did a scrawny little kid like you turn out looking like a ripped NFL player?”

Determination to never be the one others picked on ever again. “Just a late bloomer, I guess.”

When Jennings leaned back to study Josh more closely, his eyes grew wide. “What happened to your face?”

“Forgot to duck. How are things around here?”

“About the same.” Mr. Jennings turned to the kids, who were obviously curious but trying to look too cool to care. “Say hello to Mr. Granger, guys. He grew up here too.”