Page 14 of Families and Other Enemies

“Maybe not. But you’re old.” Sophia wasn’t being mean; she was sixteen, and she was making a flat statement of fact. “If that guy from the fountain comes back and brings friends, like he said he would, what are you going to do about it?”

Ralph laughed, a brief, amused sound that trailed off into a wince. Reaching inside his shack, he pulled a baseball bat out from under his blankets. “Does this make you feel safer?”

Sophia shook her head. That wasn’t good enough, yet she had no alternative.

Kellen thought briefly of her attic with the king-size bed and the electric blanket, of the soaking tub and the heated towel rack lined with fluffy white towels and of tomorrow’s scrumptious breakfast she had been promised. She straightened up, looked at Sophia and—

Ralph shook his head once, firmly.

Of course not. Kellen couldn’t ask every person at the shelter to come home with her, and the sad truth was, if she tried, Sophia’s mother could try to sue her, and probably succeed.

Kellen sighed. Modern life was complicated, indecipherable and sometimes ugly. “Sophia, would you feel better if I stayed here with you, as well?”

Sophia looked so grateful that Kellen smiled. “Okay.”

Kellen bid a sad farewell to a great night’s sleep. Oh, well. From deep inside, she heard the echo of Rae’s voice. Kellen had responsibilities and duties. Solemn ones.

“Come with me, Sophia,” Ralph said, nodding at Kellen in way of thanks. “We need to find you some useful employment for the daytime.” Ralph and Sophia walked back toward the food bank.

Kellen followed in their wake.

When the small group reentered the food bank, a petite woman stood in the doorway of the office.

“Mrs. Soderquist.” Ralph nodded in greeting. “This is Sophia. We’re going to the prep kitchen to wash dishes and learn other useful kitchen skills.”

Mrs. Soderquist gestured them forward, then offered her hand to Kellen. “I’m Bridget, director of the food bank.”

BRIDGET SODERQUIST:

FEMALE, MIDTHIRTIES, 5'3", CAUCASIAN ANCESTRY, THIN, TONED, WELL DRESSED. BROWN SKIN, BLACK HAIR, GREEN EYES. SELF-ASSURED, PROUD OF HER POSITION, CLEARLY COMPETENT AND A LEADER. COOL SMILE; KELLEN FELT JUDGED.

Kellen shook hands. “Kellen Adams. Good to meet you. Sheriff Kateri Kwinault sent me here to work while I handled some family problems. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course. We always need volunteers for the food bank. I am surprised Ralph came for you to help with Sophia. He doesn’t usually trust so quickly.” Her words were a critique.

“I was in the military. He knows that. And an officer. That’s kind of a bonding thing between us.” Kellen waited to see if Bridget would respond with the information that Ralph wasn’t a veteran.

Instead, Bridget looked Kellen over from head to toe, a cynical twist to her mouth.

My God.Bridget didn’t believe her. In a fury, Kellen snapped out, “Captain Kellen Adams of the US Army. Served in Afghanistan, Germany, Kuwait.”

“Oh!” Bridget straightened her shoulders. “Of course. You really are a veteran. Sometimes I forget that there are... Sorry. Thank you for your service.” Words that were nothing but a platitude, but were an acknowledgment of Kellen’s background.

“Ralph asked me to go talk to Sophia because of my experiences in the military, I think.” Kellen knew better, but she wasn’t about to confess any of her troubled past to Bridget. “Either way, she’s going to need plenty of help.”

“They usually do.” Bridget gestured Kellen toward the back. “Let’s get back to work. I have boxes of onions that need to be sorted.”

More onions. Kellen suppressed a heavy sigh.

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