Ranch Manny - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,33

I’m here.”

The little girls started crying, and he gathered them close. “Hey. Hey, Jakob’s worn out. We’re going to be on the road in a hiccup, huh?”

Shit, he’d just started his shopping. He ought to grab Bisquick, milk, and a new waffle iron.

“I’m so sorry, Brent. I needed to make sure. This is the new nanny, hmm? Are you going to press charges, Mr. Redding?”

“Brent?” He didn’t want to make waves and make life harder on the kids and Brent.

“I want the incident recorded with the police, at least. She’s always been bad, but she hurt my son. I want her on the radar.”

“I’ll call someone, then. I’m very sorry.” Mr. Keane scurried off, and Trace had to fight to meet Brent’s eyes.

Brent shook his head. “Don’t you get all hangdog on me. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I didn’t. I swear by all I hold holy. I wasn’t going to let her get out of here with Jakob.”

“Of course not.” Brent shifted Jakob to one arm, stepping up to put a hand on Trace’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I tried to ease the situation, but—”

She’d taken one look at him and it had been all over. She’d seen his hair, his piercings, and lost her incredibly dramatic shit.

“She’s a mean old drunken nutjob,” Brent snapped. “She needs to mind her own damn business.”

Caroline sniffled. “I want to go home.”

“I know, baby girl. I have to talk to the police and grab a couple of things for supper.” His head throbbed.

“Why don’t you stay here, and I’ll run get your list?” Brent said. “Have a sit.”

“Take the cart. I don’t think Jakob’s going to let go of you.”

“Sure. Come on, kiddo.” Brent and Jakob headed off, and he rocked his three girls, humming under his breath.

“Dad-O?” Caro whispered. “Can Suzy still be my sister?”

“Yes. Of course. You two are family, honey. Breathe. We’re okay. That lady was just mean.”

“Okay.” She leaned against his side, kissing Daisy’s head.

There they were. Lord, what a mess.

“I called the sheriff. He’s on his way.” Keane handed him a Dr Pepper.

“Thank you. Very much. I’m sorry for the trouble.” And he was too.

“I am too. I’m kinda horrified.”

He found a grin for Mr. Keane. “Yeah, I’ll be in here with the kids a lot. You know me now.”

“I do. I swear, I never thought you were a kidnapper. You hit all her hot buttons.”

“Gay, long hair, ink, piercings, X-Files T-shirt?”

“Your daughter too.” Keane sighed. “I hope you believe me when I say she’s the exception.”

“I know.” And he’d thought this place would be safer. The fact was, there were assholes everywhere.

“Do you need anything else?”

When he said no, they sat in awkward silence until the sheriff came.

“So, Mrs. Whitehouse beat you up, son?” The big man rolled his eyes and huffed and puffed like the big bad wolf.

Trace eased the girls from his lap and stood with Daisy. Seriously, he’d stood up against pissed-off parents and Taneshia when the cancer had gone into her brain and made her violent. “No, sir. The lady in question hurt the little boy I’ve been hired to take care of, she upset the children, made racially charged comments to my daughter. I’m not interested in pressing charges, but I do want it on record that she attacked us, and we were simply doing our shopping.”

The sheriff seemed a no-nonsense type. He just nodded and started firing off questions about times and injuries.

By the time the sheriff was done, Brent was there, flames shooting out of his eyes as he showed off Jakob’s poor arm.

The man’s mouth tightened. “Keane said her husband is coming. I’ll have a word.”

“I appreciate it. Trace here, he’s one of my guys.”

“Yes, sir, hair and all.”

“Yep. He’s one of mine. I got the kids, Curly—I needed help.”

“Welcome to town, son.” The man stuck out a hand.

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate it.” Son. Asshole.

“Well, let me take a couple of pictures, and then y’all are free to go.”

“And then Daddy Brent said we could all still have Dairy Queen.” Jakob looked proud of himself and his wounds now.

“Oh, I am jealous.” The sheriff winked. “Hold out your arm, Jakob.”

“Yes, sir. I bet Daddy Brent would let you come to lunch too. You could even have an ice cream.”

“You think? I’ve got a lunch date. But thank you.”

“Yes, sir.” Jakob smiled at the sheriff, and Trace fought not to roll his eyes.

“Thanks for grabbing supplies. I appreciate it.” And thanks for the rescue, because obviously I look like a child-thieving,

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