Reflection Point: An Eternity Springs Novel (25 page)

He’d been down this road before.

The first time Dad got sent away, the kindly, criminally incompetent Social Services people sent him to live with foster parents, the beautiful Susan and movie-star-handsome Alexander Rowe.

Or, as TJ now thought of them upon the rare occasions he didn’t try to block them from his mind, the pervs.

Thinking of them made him want the plane to crash.

But he’d survived, and Dad had come home, and life had been good for TJ. He’d been doing okay in school. He’d made the middle-school basketball team.

Then his father got laid off, went back on the booze, and back to jail.

And I lose my home
.

The plane rolled to a gentle stop, and the pilot came on the intercom and said, “Welcome to Gunnison–Crested Butte Regional Airport.”

At that, the nausea in TJ’s stomach did another roll. Next to him, F-wad Fisherman rose and rummaged in the overhead compartment for the round tube that TJ figured held his fishing pole. TJ remained seated. He didn’t even unbuckle his seat belt. He’d almost rather face another takeoff than drag his ass off the plane.

Then he was the last one left. The flight attendant stood in the aisle, watching him expectantly. “Son, is everything okay?”

I’m not your son!

He gave no verbal response, but sullenly stood and grabbed his backpack from the overhead bin. The flight attendant gave him a fake smile, then stepped back into her little galley area to give him space to walk by her. Then he was walking up that long hallway thing toward the terminal. His aunt was supposed to be waiting for him at the baggage claim.

Aunt Jailbird. Sister of Uncle Jailbird, Uncle Ran Away, and DUI Dad. For all TJ knew, she’d been best friends with OD Dead Mom.

Did he have great genes or what?

TJ followed the signs toward baggage claim, his spine growing stiffer with every step. If, deep inside himself, the naive kid he used to be nurtured a seed of hope that this time might be different, he refused to recognize it. Approaching the security exit, TJ donned his defenses
like a suit of armor. He’d spent years building them, and going through puberty had helped with that. Now when people looked at him, they didn’t see a skinny little kid with blond hair and brown eyes and a dopey grin. They saw a tall guy with a spiked multicolor Mohawk, seven earrings, a nose ring, and a tongue stud. They didn’t see the young, vulnerable kid; they saw the don’t-f-with-me teen. He’d survived Alex Rowe. He’d survived the night the uniforms knocked on the door to arrest Dad. He’d survived the effing airplane ride.

He would survive Savannah Moore and the middle-of-nowhere town where she lived. Eternity Springs. What sort of stupid name was that? Sounded like the name of a freakin’ cemetery.

He saw her through the glass wall that divided the baggage claim from the terminal, and a brief memory flashed through his mind.
You want me to push you higher? Really, Tommy?

Really, Auntie. I do! Push me high! High to the moon!

Hold on tight, then, but don’t worry. I’m your auntie Savannah. I will never let you fall
.

“Get ready to put your money where your mouth is, lady.”

SEVENTEEN
 

Savannah saw the boy behind the glass window that separated the secured area of the airport from the baggage claim. Her gaze skidded away from the bright orange and lime spikes of his hair and the glint of metal from piercings in places that made her wince. That boy dressed in black clothing adorned with silver chains was tall for fourteen. That boy wasn’t her Tommy.

When he stepped toward the exit, her stomach sank. Not her Tommy, but undoubtedly TJ. The hope that she had nurtured for an easy transition evaporated. Were those shadows around his eyes real or was he wearing eye makeup?

This was a boy in full rebellion.

“Uh-oh,” Zach murmured. “Maybe it isn’t him.”

“It’s him.” Savannah offered the boy a smile and tried really hard to get it to reach her eyes. She doubted she succeeded.

He carried a canvas backpack slung across one shoulder and a chip the size of Colorado balanced on the other. He crossed the space with a loose-limbed, insouciant stroll, and the look in his brown eyes was flat. Savannah knew she should probably move to meet him halfway, but her feet remained rooted to the spot.

Until Zach’s hand at the back of her waist gave her a little shove. “Go,” he said softly.

She stumbled forward a step, then drew a bracing breath and shook off her unease. “TJ?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m your aunt Savannah. I’m so glad to see you again.” Her instincts told her to hug him, but when she opened her arms and stepped forward, he stepped back.

He pulled his backpack into his arms, holding it between them in an obvious effort to ward off any embrace. “I checked a duffel bag.”

Feeling helpless, Savannah kept her smile pasted on as she glanced toward the baggage carousel. A light flashed, a buzzer sounded, and the conveyor began to move. “What color is it? We’ll help you look for it. Oh, and TJ? Let me introduce you to my friend, Zach Turner.”

Zach offered a casual, friendly smile as he extended his hand for a handshake. “Welcome to Colorado.”

“Whatever.” TJ ignored Zach’s hand and stepped toward the carousel.

Savannah turned a despairing look toward Zach, who gave her a reassuring wink and mouthed, “Patience, Peach.”

She dug deep for it when TJ rather rudely ignored Zach’s offer to help him carry his gear. She kept hold of it by a string when her nephew veered into the men’s room without so much as an “excuse me.” But when they walked out into the parking lot and Savannah gestured toward the Range Rover with the sheriff’s badge on the door, explaining that they were riding with Zach, the boy stopped abruptly and snapped an obscenity, and Savannah had enough.

“That’s it. Stop it right now,” she declared, bracing her hands on her hips and scowling at the boy. Though only fourteen, he was almost as tall as she, so this was close to being an eye-to-eye standoff. Without shifting
her gaze away from TJ, she asked, “Zach, would you please excuse us for a few moments?”

“Sure. I’ll go check the score of the Rockies game.”

She waited until he’d moved beyond earshot, then said, “This is not how I wanted to begin, TJ, but begin we will. I am sorry that your life has been upended. Believe me, I understand how difficult that is. However, you need to get a couple of things straight from the start. You don’t have to love me. You don’t have to even like me. What I will demand is that you respect me. That includes acting respectful toward my friends. Zach is my friend, a dear friend.”

While Savannah spoke, TJ’s expression grew set and sullen. “He’s a cop,” TJ spat, his tone filled with disdain.

Compassion fluttered through Savannah. Cops had arrested his father, hadn’t they? “Look, it was hard for me to get past that myself. But he is a good man and can be a good friend to you if you give him a chance.”

“Like I’d want a cop for a friend,” he scoffed.

“Actually, he’s a sheriff, and there are times in life a friendly law enforcement officer can come in very handy.” Savannah’s gaze drifted toward the man sitting behind the wheel of his truck. Very handy.

“Yeah, right.”

“Look, you and I have a lot to talk about. We need to establish a common ground of what each of us expects and requires from this relationship we’re entering into, but the conversation can wait until we’re home in Eternity Springs.” She folded her arms and added, “In the meantime, I expect you to be respectful to Sheriff Turner. Got it?”

She took his shrug to be an affirmative answer, decided they’d work on “yes, ma’am” and “no, ma’am” pretty quickly, and headed for the truck. TJ shuffled slowly behind her, so she and Zach had a moment alone. “You okay?” he asked.

“What was it you said earlier about my being able to meet challenges?”

“I didn’t say anything about it being easy.”

The back passenger door opened, and TJ threw his duffel and backpack inside, then climbed in. He didn’t say a word, but in the wake of the comments he had made earlier, Savannah considered that a good thing.

They stopped at a Mexican restaurant for lunch before heading back. Savannah didn’t have much of an appetite and only picked at her taco salad. Both males seemed to inhale their meals. Nobody wasted much effort with conversation.

She and Zach made small talk during the first portion of the return trip to Eternity Springs, but once they made the turn onto the two-lane road that would take them over Sinner’s Prayer Pass, Zach gave her a reassuring wink, then glanced into the rearview mirror and asked, “Do you like to fish, TJ?”

It took him a good thirty seconds, but TJ finally responded, “I guess.”

“Angel Creek is a stone’s throw away from Savannah’s house, and fishermen pull some nice trout out of there. Our friend Cam can get you fixed up with gear and a license.”

Savannah watched her nephew in the vanity mirror mounted on the visor and noted interest that the boy tried to hide but couldn’t.
Good instincts, Zach
. Following his lead, she brought up other outdoor activities that Eternity Springs and the surrounding environs had to offer. Zach picked up where she left off, and they basically tag-teamed TJ like tourist office employees. He acted disinterested, but Savannah could see through that look.

She knew that look very well. She’d seen it in the mirror a million times. TJ was interested in the possibilities that awaited him here in Colorado, but he wasn’t going
to get his hopes up over anything. He’d been burned before. Until he stood at the banks of Angel Creek with a rod in his hand and fish on his line, he wouldn’t believe he could go fishing. Same for camping, zip-lining, snowmobiling, and skiing. However, she and Zach had successfully planted the seeds, and the boy would think about it.

One they’d exhausted the activities travelogue, Zach struck up a conversation with Savannah designed to pique TJ’s interest in the people of the town. He spoke about Celeste and Nic Callahan, and when he talked about Jack Davenport he made sure to drop those three little letters guaranteed to catch a boy’s interest: CIA. He mentioned Colt’s summer baseball league team, but it wasn’t until he mentioned basketball that TJ abandoned all pretense of disinterest. “Basketball camp? With Coach Romano? Which one? There are two of them.”

Finally, he speaks
, Savannah thought.

“Both Anthony and Lucca Romano will be here,” Zach said. “They are my deputy sheriff’s brothers. The basketball camp is a fund-raiser for the summer camp the Davenports are opening later this year. It’ll be sometime in August, right, Savannah?”

“It’s actually over Labor Day weekend. Gabi said it was the only time both her brothers could arrange time off together. Apparently basketball recruiting season has become a year-round thing, just like football.”

“I’ve played some one-on-one with Gabi Romano. I’m no slouch on the hardwood, but she can whip my butt. She helped me with my hook shot, though. She wants to get me into shape for a pickup game with her brothers.”

“I suppose this camp is just for high-school-age kids?” TJ asked.

“Yes, it’s for varsity-level players.”

Crestfallen, TJ slumped back in his seat. Savannah twisted around and studied her nephew, sensing that she’d been handed a golden opportunity. Gabi had already offered to help Savannah with TJ in any way she could. It appeared she’d just been handed a bargaining chip. “Gabi Romano has become a special friend of mine, TJ. I expect we could arrange a private lesson or two with the Romano brothers if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

He went still, then narrowed his eyes. “What’s the catch?”

She couldn’t help but grin. Of course there would be a catch. For Moores, there was always a catch. “You have to give me, give us, a chance. I know this has been a terrible time for you and I understand why you arrived here with a chip on your shoulder, but life will be so much better for both of us if you’ll try to make a life here, try to make a home with me.”

Temper flared in his eyes. “Screw that. My life and my home are in Georgia. I’m going back there real soon.”

“You’d rather be in the system there than living with family here?” Zach asked.

“I’d rather be on my own at home. They had no business making me leave. I can take care of myself. I was doing just fine at home on my own. I didn’t need supervision. I’ve been getting myself to school—and making good grades, by the way—for months now. I kept groceries in the house and cooked and did laundry. I even mowed the lawn. I sure as hell didn’t need to go into foster care. I didn’t deserve that. If not for a busybody cop, I’d still be home and we’d all be happy. It’s not like you want me here anyway. I got forced on you.”

“That’s not true,” Savannah said. “I could have said no.”

“At least you had a choice. Everyone else gets to make choices. I should, too.”

Anger rolled off the boy in waves and Savannah decided now was not the time to argue with him, or even to try to reason with him. “Well, if you decide you want to put down your chip and pick up a basketball, let me know.”