A Man She Can Trust. Roxanne Rustand

raised, angry voices, and then Beth came back on the line. “She says her name is Ashley, and that she’s your niece. She…um…has a teenage son with her who isn’t very happy with her right now. I already notified security…but should I call the police?”

      Grace tossed the brochures aside, launched out of her chair and headed for the coat closet. “Is the boy’s name Ross?”

      “Yes, ma’am.” Beth sounded worried.

      “They’re my relatives, but they might have trouble finding my house in the dark. Tell them to calm down, and I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

      Remembering Ashley’s volatile temper and her great-nephew’s rebellious nature, Grace made it to the hospital in eight minutes, despite the six inches of snow already on the ground and the deepening drift at the corner of Maine and Oak.

      Instead of braving the staff parking lot, where the wind had piled snow into dunes near the building, she pulled up into the crescent drive at the front.

      Inside, she stamped the snow from her boots, shrugged out of her coat and gave Beth a nod. “Quieter, now?”

      The girl tipped her head toward the waiting area. “I brought the woman some coffee, and gave her son a Coke,” she said. “Are they really relatives of yours? I mean—well—” She blushed.

      “Yes, they are,” Grace said, frowning. At twenty-two, Beth brought fresh enthusiasm to the job, but she was also prone to being a bit too personal. “I’ll take them back to my house once we get things settled down.”

      Beth’s blush deepened. “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Thanks for calling. I imagine the trip was stressful for them, coming all this way in such bad weather.” Grace smiled at her, then headed for the corner of the waiting room where Ross had pulled a chair up in front of the TV. Only the top of his black, curly hair showed over the backrest.

      Ashley sat on the edge of a chair near him, her hands knotted in her lap and her eyes revealing both her tension and exhaustion. She looked up as Grace drew closer, clearly relieved.

      “Aunt Grace—I’m sooo happy to see you!” She stood and hurried over for a quick hug, then a much longer, second embrace. “I never expected all this snow. The roads were so slick—and the tires on my friend’s car aren’t all that great. We nearly went in the ditch twice.”

      “It’s good to see you again, honey.” Grace rested her hands on the younger woman’s shoulders and took a half step back to look at her. She had to be twenty-nine by now, but deep lines bracketed her mouth and fanned from the corners of her eyes. She looked forty, and from the stiffness in her spine she was here with news that wasn’t good.

      Ross twisted around and glared at his mother, then slumped back down and continued watching the sitcom on television.

      “Please—can we talk over there?” Ashley pleaded, motioning to a far corner. “I-it’s important.”

      Ross slumped farther down in his seat and cursed under his breath. “Like I don’t know everything you’re gonna say?”

      Ashley’s eyes filled with tears. “Please. He’s just upset right now, and so am I. It’s not what you think.”

      But Grace already had a pretty good idea, as she led Ashley over to a sofa and loveseat arranged for greater privacy. The girl had led a troubled life, starting with her own rebelliousness at school and a pregnancy at fourteen, then the loss of both parents the year after she graduated from high school.

      Ashley seemed to melt into the soft cushions of the loveseat as she stared down at her tightly clasped hands. “We were doing okay, Ross and me. I’ve held a good job as a teacher’s assistant, and I’ve been going to night school. By summer I’ll be done with a whole year of college credits. But then…” Her eyes filled with renewed tears. “Ross started cutting class, and he got in some other trouble at school. He got suspended twice this year. The county says it will file charges against me if I don’t make sure that he goes to school every day. But I’m working, and going to school…”

      “So he’s home alone.”

      “He’s got a key,” Ashley snapped. Her gaze met Grace’s for a split second, then dropped back to her hands. She lowered her voice to a ragged whisper. “It isn’t good, I know. He’s only a sophomore, and he’s already got friends who’ve dropped out. Friends who…use.”

      “Sounds like a bad situation.” Grace thought back to some of the troubled teenagers she’d taken in over the years. She’d been younger then, able to cope and keep up, but some of those kids had been a full-time job unto themselves. Even so, the drug scene hadn’t yet swept into this part of the world.

      “I can’t be at work and school, and know where he is every minute. He’s getting an attitude like his daddy had, the just-try-and-make-me sort of sneer teachers hate. And…” She shifted uncomfortably. “He and his buddy were caught shoplifting in December.”

      “Oh, dear.” Grace glanced over at the boy slouched in the chair. He was probably a good five foot nine already, much taller and heavier than his diminutive mother.

      “A caseworker got involved,” Ashley added hastily. “Ross isn’t being sent away. Not this time. But if he messes up again, the judge will send him to a detention center. He’s only got one more chance, and I’m scared he’s gonna blow it.”

      Grace gave one fleeting thought to those travel brochures on the coffee table back home, then dismissed them without regret. “If you need money, I do have some put by.”

      A man in his early thirties appeared at the entryway of the hospital, jingled a set of keys and fixed Ashley with an impatient look.

      She nodded to him, then turned back to Grace. “I don’t want your money. Come this fall, I should have some student loans set up—me and Ross will be fine.”

      “Then…”

      “I won’t even have him by then, if he screws up any more. I need to get him out of Chicago, away from his friends—until the end of this school year.”

      Ashley leaned forward and took one of Grace’s hands into both of her own. “Please. Will you take my son?”

      “PRETTY SLICK, HUH?” Ross slouched on the couch in Grace’s living room, his mouth twisted in a sneer. “Five-minute intro, and you’re stuck with me.”

      “Stuck isn’t the word I would use. Not at all.” Grace propped her elbows on the armrests of her recliner and steepled her fingertips under her jaw.

      “Like you really wanted to find yourself saddled with a kid you barely know.” He turned his head to look disdainfully at her from the pile of crocheted pillows. “I bet you woke up this morning thinking, ‘Geez, I wish I had a fifteen-year-old hanging around. For months.’”

      “It honestly hadn’t crossed my mind. But, that doesn’t mean you aren’t welcome—or that I don’t look forward to getting to know you better.”

      “Ri-i-ight.” He drew out the sarcasm.

      “I still think your mother and her…friend should have stayed overnight. Chicago is over six hours away in good weather. Tonight, it might take twice as long.”

      “Tony owns a bar. He’d never miss being there on a weekend. And Mom wouldn’t miss her tips.”

      Surprised, Grace cocked her head. “She said she works as an assistant teacher.”

      “Part-time. Nights Thursday through Saturday, she tends bar and hangs out with Tony. She usually turns up at home on Sunday.”

      So Ross was unsupervised on weekends. Not a good thing, for a boy his age. Especially one who’d already been in trouble.

      “First thing, we’ll have to get you enrolled in school,” Grace said briskly. His jaw stiffened, and despite his bravado, she knew it had