Ranch Manny - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,31
salute, but he was moving off to the house, clearly as worried as he was.
None of them wanted to lose Trace, for a bunch of reasons. None of them.
He loaded the saddle in the truck, got Grace in the trailer, made sure he had her bridle and his ropes. Then he went to get his son. It was time to go throw a loop.
Chapter 9
“Lord have mercy, does Brent know y’all kids are with…” The peroxide blonde with her hair jacked to Jesus and the ever-so-disapproving expression on her face was staring at Trace like he was a bug.
He blinked at the woman. He had Daisy in a backpack, the girls in the basket, and Jakob was picking out a bag of apples. “Pardon me?”
“Well, I can’t imagine Brent letting you take care of his kids. Are you a friend of Lisa’s? I told Brent that girl was trashy and she would just hand off her daycare to anyone.”
“I’m not, but I’m sure I will be. Does Brent know you?” He smiled at Jakob when he brought the apples. “Thank you, son.”
“You’re welcome, Dad-O.” Jakob gave the woman the side-eye. “Miz Whitehouse.”
“Jakob. Are you going to introduce me?”
Jakob sighed. “Miz Whitehouse, this is my Dad-O. Dad-O, Miz Whitehouse. She’s a church lady.”
Whoa. He’d never seen Jakob be so disgusted. Huh.
He held out one hand. “Ma’am.”
“Do you have a real name?” She grasped his hand with the tips of her fingers.
“Trace Redding. Pleased.” Oh, she looked like she was smelling onions.
He kinda wanted to laugh, but the kids were all wide-eyed and staring. “Well, you have a nice day now,” Trace murmured. He had promised the kids ice cream if they were good at the summer reading club deal at the library, and they’d been good as good.
“Jakob, are you sure your uncle knows that you’re with this—” She looked him up and down. “—person?”
“Yeah.” Jakob wrinkled his nose. “We’re buying groceries and some toys after we went to the library.”
She reached out and grabbed Jakob’s arm. “Come with me.”
“What? No! Dad-O, help!”
Trace stared over, eyes fixin’ to bug out of his head. “What the hell? You let him go!”
“Jakob!” Caroline went off like an air raid siren, screaming for her brother.
Trace had to push the cart after her, chasing the woman down, and Daisy started to cry as well.
“Where the hell are you going with my kid?”
“He’s not yours!” she screamed. “They’re not yours!”
This woman was crazy. He chugged after her, all the kids wailing, and he grabbed out his phone. “I’m calling 911!”
“Good. I’m telling security you’ve kidnapped these babies, you sick sex freak!”
“What?” He texted Brent with 911. “I live at the ranch. Brent knows I have the kids. What is wrong with you?”
“Excuse me.” A man in a uniform stepped up to the end of the aisle, stopping their headlong flight. “What’s going on here?”
“This bitch is dragging my—” Fuck, not son. “—my ward around. I’m the nanny for Brent Mowry. Call him.”
“He is the cousin to three children! Where did you get this other little girl from? The Black one?”
“Pardon me?” I’m going to beat you until your face-lift stitches pop. “This is my biological daughter.”
“Dad-O! Make the mean lady let my brother go!” Susannah stood at the edge of the cart, reaching for Jakob’s arm.
“Sister! Get him!” Caro screamed.
“She’s not your sister!” Mrs. Whitehouse screamed, and Susannah just leaned down and bit the fire out of the woman’s arm.
That was basically when shit went to hell.
His phone started ringing.
“Hello? Brent! Some woman is trying to steal your children from me.” He had to shout, but he wanted Brent to know what was happening.
Jakob ran to hide behind him, the woman took a swing at Susannah and he blocked her, tugging the buggy out of the way.
“You don’t belong here! No one would hire you looking like a filthy drifter!”
“Mrs. Whitehouse!” An older man rounded the cashier area and snapped out the words. “You are making a scene. You stop it right now. You’ve made all these children cry.”
“Trace? What’s happening? Where are you?” Brent was hollering from the phone.
“Walmart. You get down here. She tried to hit Susannah!”
“I’m on my way.” Brent hung up, and by then, the woman had stopped screaming.
The man, who was obviously a store manager, put himself between Mrs. Whitehouse and Trace. “Now. Sir, can you tell me what happened?”
“This…woman came up to me and asked me whether I had permission to take the children shopping. I introduced myself, and she