The Four Stages of Loving Dutch Owen - Debra Kayn Page 0,16
She was always afraid of starting at school and everyone finding out.
Now that she was a woman, maybe he'd start to trust her more and give her the information she needed.
She'd waited forever.
By now, her mom wouldn't even recognize her. She'd grown. Her body had changed. She wore a bra, and the ends of her hair still had temporary highlights from six months ago.
Dutch stopped in front of her with a frown. "What the hell have you done to your face?"
She touched her cheek, then remembered the makeup Alyssa had put on her. Lifting her chin, she looked at him through her longer, darker lashes. "I'm wearing makeup."
"Jesus Christ," he mumbled, looking away.
Not wanting him in a bad mood, she flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his broad chest. "I've missed you."
She closed her eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of leather, sunshine, and tobacco. He cupped the back of her head. Her throat closed, and she swallowed the lump of emotions only he brought out in her.
If she ever lost him...
She squeezed him harder, not willing to let that happen.
"All right. Enough of that." He pushed her away. "Where's Rachel?"
She wasn't ready for him to talk with anyone else. "Don't know."
"Where did you see her last?"
"In the car, when we arrived." She slipped her hand inside his and held on. "Are you staying at the house?"
"We'll see." He frowned and shook his head. "Go wash your face."
She followed him a few steps and bounced in front of him, making him stop. "Don't you think I look prettier with makeup? Older?"
His mouth tightened, making his beard move. "I think you should wait to grow up."
"I can't stop." She laughed, skipping beside him when he started walking away again. "How old are you?"
"Old."
"I know, but how old?"
"Thirty-three." He reached the front of the clubhouse. "Now, go play. I need to take care of business."
Her shoulders sagged, and she pouted, staying outside, as he went inside the clubhouse and the door shut behind him. She hung around in front, hoping he'd come right back out, but he never reappeared. Remembering Alyssa, she trudged to the side of the building and found her friend playing with the other kids.
She stayed back. Most of the time, she'd join in.
Looking over her shoulder, she searched for Dutch again.
Even though she was friends with everyone, she never really belonged here.
Everyone knew she showed up in Bellevue when she was ten years old, and suddenly Rachel and Skull were telling everyone she was their child.
They told the school.
They told their friends.
They told her. All. The. Time.
But Dutch never pretended she belonged here. He knew where she came from.
He knew her as Marla Marie Smith.
She wasn't Marla Richard, the way Rachel and Skull told her to write her name.
Chapter 8
MARLA MARIE WALKED the top of the fence line with the balance of a cat. Dutch stood in the kitchen of his sister's house, looking out the window. For once, Marla hadn't run to the door when he rode up.
She was probably mad. She'd had her hopes up he'd sleep at the house last night.
Instead, he decided it was better to crash a few hours in one of the clubhouse's spare rooms after drinking too much.
And the reason for him tipping back the whiskey bottle played outside with the weight of the world on her slim shoulders.
"How's she doing?" He took a healthy swallow off the coffee mug in his hand.
Rachel stepped up beside him and looked out the window. He waited to hear what he already knew. Marla Marie never gave up her desire to return to Moses Lake and find her mother.
He understood that without being told. She was a child, believing she was stolen from a life she was meant to live—even though she couldn't understand how her past life would've eventually killed her. At the least, kill her innocence.
If the hardships hadn't physically done her in, someone else would've hurt her.
"You know..." Rachel sighed. "She's a good girl."
"But?"
"She's lived with us for three years, and she still doesn't see me as her mother or Skull as her dad. I've tried to get her to understand how much we love her, but she holds back. I can't seem to break that wall she puts up."
He looked at his sister. "She knows you love her."
"Oh, I know she does." Rachel stared outside. "But will it be enough?"
"What are you saying?"
His sister turned her back to the window. "I'm going to lose her."