The Still of Night (22 page)

Stan nodded. “I will.”

They all sat down that evening to blackberry-glazed pork chops, scalloped potatoes au gratin, fresh string beans, and oatmeal muffins. She complained, but Morgan insisted Marta sit at the long table with them.

“None of that hiding in the kitchen, Marta. You’ll eat with the rest of us or the deal’s off.” He gave Rick a taunting wink.

Rick frowned. What was the deal? He’d get it out of him one way or another.

Noelle clasped her hands at her throat and gazed at the fare on the table like Cinderella at the ball. “Now I know I’ve starved my husband.”

Rick gave her a smile. “I did not marry you for your cooking.” “Good thing.”

Rick bowed his head and blessed their meal with special thanks for Marta, who prepared it. For the second time that day, his heart swelled inside him. God was good. He glanced at Todd, pleased to see a sem blance of appreciation on the boy’s face. And close to hero worship when the kid looked at Morgan.

Stan had a fight ahead, but something inside told him Morgan was playing a part there, too. Just as he had with Noelle.

Still riding the wave of the coup he’d accomplished, Morgan winked at Todd, although the kid had been sullen and silent throughout the meal and seemed less appreciative than he ought to be. Once he had more of Marta’s great cooking to fill him out, he’d be more than grateful. The rest of them already were, especially judging by Stan’s portions.

Morgan smiled to himself. When he’d shown up at Marta’s door, she had literally shaken him by the shoulders. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you called or written? I hear from Rick and from Noelle. Do I hear from you?”

“I’m here now.”

“And full of mischief, I’m sure.”

Morgan gave her his best smile. “No mischief, Marta. Just a little of the devil.”

“You don’t fool me.” She’d tugged him inside. “Come see my angels.”

So he’d met the family, all suitably impressed by the things Marta told about him. And he’d shown equal appreciation for the boasts she made on the children. Then he’d thrown the offhand, “By the way, I’ve come to kidnap Marta.” They had argued of course, though he could tell she was not only flattered, she was tempted. But what had really gotten her were the small educational trusts he’d promised to set up for the two grandkids. Yep, he knew her soft underbelly.

Once she’d decided, they all seemed open to the break and Marta had packed up her things and said good-bye. She’d actually teared up with joy when he drove her into the ranch. She’d dabbed her eyes furiously. “Don’t you tell.”

He’d kissed her cheek. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

After the meal, while the others chatted in the dining room, Todd cornered him on his way up the stairs. “Why’d you leave?”

Morgan leaned his hip to the banister. “I needed to go home.”

“Where’s that?”

“California.”

Todd stuck his fingers into the loosely woven throw across the back of the couch. “You just flew there and back?” The use of his prime swear word in that sentence betrayed some fresh animosity.

“That’s right.”

“You have your own plane or something?” There it was again.

Were they starting from scratch?

Morgan dislodged a shred of pork chop from between two molars with his tongue. “I flew Delta. Is that all right with you?”

Todd scowled. “You just took off. I didn’t even know you’d gone.”

Morgan shrugged. That’s how he operated. He came and went as he pleased.

“Why’d you go?”

“I felt like it. Missed the waves on the rocks.” The control of his own place. And of course he’d had all the medical reasons, which he was not about to elaborate to Todd.

Todd kicked the bottom edge of the couch, a nervous rhythm.

“?ick said you had something happen. He thought maybe you wanted to be alone.”

“Maybe I did.”

“What happened?”

Morgan considered the kid, saw more behind his questions than nosiness. But he was not ready to discuss his daughter. He’d spent every day at home trying to figure it all out. The second matching test had determined a lot more than Kelsey’s immediate future; it had altered his.

“How did you and Stan like having the ranch to yourselves?”

Todd swore again.

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck. “Why don’t you come up and see what I brought you?”

“You brought me something?”

Morgan started up the stairs, Todd following. Part of what he’d brought should make Todd ecstatic. The other part would be a tougher sell. With Todd’s present mood, it would be tougher yet. Morgan hadn’t realized how much he’d shaken the kid by leaving. That was not a good sign. Todd needed to attach to Stan, develop that trust.

They went into his room, and Todd immediately honed in on the laptop on the dresser.

“Don’t touch it.”

“Why not?”

“It’s booby-trapped.”

“Liar.”

“Calling me a liar, kid?” On impulse, Morgan grabbed him around the shoulders, wrestled him over, and tossed him down onto the bed.

Todd’s face reddened and he flailed wildly. He was scrappy but too small to defend himself. He hollered, “Cut it out.”

“Why should I?” Morgan pushed him down, grinning.

Todd pressed him back with his fists, but he had little natural strength. He’d be an easy mark for any bully. As soon as he sat up, Morgan pushed him down again like an inflatable toy with a sand bottom. “You think you’re so tough.”

Todd resisted the next push. “You think
you’re
so tough!”

Morgan leaned his hip against the pine log that formed the foot post. “Uh-oh. You’ve got my number.”

Todd grinned in spite of himself, gave Morgan’s arm one last shove. “So where’s my present?”

Morgan cocked his head. “Actually I have two. One you’ll like more now, and the other you’ll appreciate the rest of your life.”

Todd glared. “Great. It must be
good for me
.”

“And the deal is, you can’t have one without the other.”

Todd swore.

“You have to agree.”

“No way.” Todd shook his head. “I don’t even know I want the first one.”

Morgan walked over to the closet and eased out a box. He set it on the bed beside Todd and watched the kid’s eyes widen. Todd tore open the carton and pulled out the portable TV. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me!”

He’d gauged that one well. Rick, and even Stan, might spend their days just fine with no television, but Todd had griped constantly. He let the kid ogle the set until he’d satisfied himself, then looked up.

“What’s the other thing?”

Morgan went to the closet again and pulled out the phonics and reading program he’d ordered from the radio after hearing the ad.
Any

one of any age can learn to read with our back-to-basics program
. He set it on the bed beside Todd. “The deal is you work on this with Stan and learn to read.” Stan was a teacher, after all. “The TV’s your reward.”

Todd stared at the plastic carton that held the reading program and chewed his lower lip. “I know how to read.”

“That’s not what you told me before.”

“I can read some stuff. I just don’t know how to figure all of it out.”

“So here’s your chance.” Morgan hoped the lure of the TV would be enough to win him to the idea.

Todd stared at the TV a long moment, then shrugged. “I guess.”

Morgan smiled. “Let’s run it by Stan.” He slid the TV back into its carton and handed it off to Todd, then took the reading program and led the way downstairs.

Rick and Stan were still in the dining room, though Marta and Noelle had gone into the kitchen. Both men looked up as Morgan motioned Todd in around him, gripping the carton protectively. Morgan waited in the doorway as Todd approached his foster dad.

“Morgan gave me this.” He looked at Morgan, then back. “I can have it if you teach me to read.”

Not exactly the words Morgan would have chosen, nor the tone, confrontational and defensive at once.

Stan drew his brows together. “What do you mean?”

“You probably thought I was stupid. But I didn’t get to school much when they taught the kids how to read. Morgan thinks that’ll help.” Todd jerked his chin toward the reading program. Morgan handed it over.

“You never told me you couldn’t read.” Stan looked from one to the other of them as he took the program.

“Yeah, well, I don’t really care. But I don’t get the TV unless you teach me, so are you going to?”

Morgan winced. Maybe he should have spoken for Todd.

Stan looked down at the package, turned it over and read the back, then looked up. His expression was similar to Jimmy Stewart’s in
It’s a
Wonderful Life,
sort of pleading and betrayed. Didn’t he see it was his chance to bond and help Todd succeed? What kind of teacher was he?

Stan swallowed, then spoke softly. “I’ll be glad to help you read, Todd. But we’ll have to talk about the TV.”

“The deal is I learn to read, I get the TV.” Todd turned to Morgan. “I can have it while I’m learning, right?”

This was not going the way he’d expected. What was Stan’s problem? “Why don’t you leave it on the table for now.” Morgan jerked his head toward the doorway. “Let us talk.”

Todd did not want to let loose of the set, but Morgan sent him a confidential look that penetrated his resistance. Todd put the TV down and stalked out the door, swearing under his breath.

Morgan turned to Stan. “He told me a while ago he couldn’t read very well. I thought this was an opportunity to correct that.”

Stan’s gaze was more direct than he expected, and there was a flicker of anger. “I don’t believe in bribing kids.”

“It’s not a bribe. It’s a reward. Something to strive for.” Hadn’t Stan ever heard of incentives? What thriving company didn’t offer a bonus program for achievement? What teacher didn’t stick stars on a chart?

“And what if he needs to raise a math grade? Do I get him an Xbox? Or a go-cart if he gets to class all week?”

Morgan glanced at Rick, typically silent but listening and observing it all. “The kid’s going crazy with no TV. What does it hurt to let him watch an hour or two?”

“It’s the precedent.” Stan bore down on him doggedly. “I can’t keep up with you, and I don’t want to.”

Morgan dropped his chin. So the TV was a big deal. He’d wanted a big deal to get through to Todd. He hadn’t expected Stan to get worked up. It wasn’t about keeping up or impressing Todd. It was to motivate, encourage him. But Stan did have a point about future expectations.

Morgan rested against the doorframe. “It’s your call.”

Stan stood up, still holding the reading program. “I appreciate your concern and your letting me know there’s a problem. I just wish you’d’ve come to me first.” He didn’t add that Todd was his responsibility, but that was implicit.

Morgan nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s my style to find a solution and act on it.”

“Sometimes there isn’t a quick fix. Putting a Band-Aid on a rotten limb won’t keep gangrene from spreading. I could buy Todd’s trust. But I’d rather earn it.”

An admirable sentiment, which Stan was not accomplishing. But Morgan had overstepped. “What do you want to do?”

Stan shrugged. “I’ll think about it, and pray about it.”

And in the meantime Todd might combust. Morgan stepped out of his way. Stan left with the reading program under his arm. If he tried to make Todd learn and refused the TV, Morgan did not want to witness the result. He turned to Rick. “Hope he makes the right choice.”

“You put him on the spot.” Rick’s voice was low as always, softly controlled yet annoyingly firm.

Morgan pulled out a chair and sat down. “It’s called incentive. Everyone works better when there’s something in it for them.”

“Morgan …”

“I know. I made Stan look bad. But he didn’t have to. He could have seen it—”

“Your way?”

Morgan leaned the chair back on two legs. “What’s he so uptight about?”

“Come on, Morgan. You drive in here with a hot new convertible, take Todd off for all kinds of fun—”

“Nothing Stan couldn’t do himself. He thinks a thirteen-year-old kid wants to sight-see and scoop horse manure.”

“It’s his kid. At least his responsibility. What are you trying to prove?”

Morgan’s throat tightened. “I’m not proving anything. I just want Todd to have what he needs.”

“Why?”

Morgan looked hard at Rick. What kind of inane question was that? “You think a kid should go through life dropping out or misbehaving because he’s lacking a skill that could turn it around?”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“What, then?”

“Why does it matter to you? You drop in here on a lark three, four times a year, but you think this kid’s trouble is yours to solve?”

Morgan rocked on the back chair legs, Rick’s words penetrating.

“Stan has the kid every day of the year. He’s volunteered to raise him, to deal with his language, his attitude, his physical, spiritual, and emotional needs. And you come in like Santa Claus buying the kid gifts and making promises and undermining everything Stan’s trying to do.”

What really stung was how the truth sunk in. He had done that for years professionally. He could go in and blaze, then move on to the next project with little thought for the dimmed leaders in his wake. But Todd was not a project, a consultation; he was a person with a whole life ahead of him, a life that Morgan would not be a part of.

When had simply befriending Todd become a mission to right every wrong in his life? When he learned about Kelsey and felt the overwhelming helplessness? He’d been on a crash course to save the world since he entered Wharton, graduated with honors, and accepted the kind of positions men would kill for. A few years of that and he knew he wanted to be out on his own. His mind was tailor-made for turn-around management, but that didn’t always apply to personal life.

He set the chair legs down and rested his elbows on the table, head dropped, hands clasped behind his neck. “You’re right. I was way out of line.”

“Your heart was in the right place.”

“Doesn’t make it easier for Stan.” Morgan blew a slow breath through puckered lips. “Good thing I’m leaving.”