Page 77 of The Way Back Home

“You stay here, boy. You ain’t going anywhere with her.”

“Tell me, Sheriff, what is it about me that you hate so much? Is it the fact that I took your nephew in when you wouldn’t, to save him from his father? Or is it the fact that I’m white that annoys you more? Would it make a difference if my skin was black?”

“Don’t you sass me, missy.”

“That kid has no one. No one stepped up to take care of him, not even his own aunt, so he’s coming home with me, whether you like it or not.” I turn and walk away, but she calls out behind my back.

“It ain’t right you taking an interest in a young boy like that.”

I whirl around, glance at the stragglers and patrons that remain, and stalk toward her. “Don’t you dare turn this into something it’s not. The only interest I have in this boy is protecting him from his own family, and making sure that he gets the hell out of this town, and as far away from you and your brother as possible, before either one of you can pollute him any more than you already have.”

I turn around. Josiah is leaning against the car door with a shocked and maybe even slightly awed expression on his face. I stalk around the hood and make a shooing gesture “Get in the car.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and ducks his head as if to hide his grin from me. Once I make sure Dalton is okay, I start the engine and throw a glance at the boy in my review mirror. He’s all-out grinning now, and I shake my head and release a shaky breath.

“Don’t start with me,” I snap, but even I wind up smiling a little, though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified of seeing those flashing lights in the rearview coming to cart me off to jail. I’ve just started a very public war with the sheriff, and I’m certain it isn’t going to end well for me.

I let out a deep breath and glance at the kid in my backseat. He’s so carefree these days, so changed and polite, and I know that some things are worth fighting for. Some people are worth the risk. Some are even worth risking everything for.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Olivia

IPULL UP TO THE FRONTdoor of Dalton’s cottage. Inside the one-room shack, Xena barks and scratches at the front door until Josiah gets out of the car and lets her out. She bolts for the passenger side, jumping at the door that Dalton hasn’t yet bothered to open.

“You need to let her in,” I say, maybe a little too sternly for what he’s endured this morning. “You need to stop shutting her out. Right now, that dog exists to make you happy.”

“I don’t t-t-think it’s working out,” he murmurs in a monotone.

“You’re not giving her a chance,” I say honestly. “I can give you the tools to get through this, but at the end of the day, it’s up to you how you use them. You have to take your meds.”

“I d-d-don’t like the way that t-t-they make me f-f-feel. I can’t be alert and on m-m-my guard with them. Can’t as-s-sess p-p-possible t-t-threats.”

“You’re not in danger, Dalton. You’re not back in Sangin, and you don’t need to keep your guard up anymore. You can let it go—”

“No, I c-c-can’t.” He shakes his head and yanks open the door. Xena gives a little yelping cry, as if he’s hit her. She whines and skitters away from the car. I’m assuming Dalton had forgotten she was even there, because the alternative gives me some cause for concern. He climbs out, and she follows after him, jumping up and weaving in and out between his legs, despite the fact that a second ago she was scampering back in the other direction. She can sense his unease, and she’s just trying to do her job, but it appears that Dalton isn’t letting her. I wonder how long that’s been going on. She’s been in his care for days now, and even though we’ve only done a handful of training sessions, they should have a stronger bond than the one I’m seeing. I sigh and follow him inside, and Josiah sticks closer than my shadow.

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