Chapter 12

Tina seemed more at ease and less afraid after a bath, a good night’s sleep and two meals. She and Cary giggled about school and puppies and boys all through breakfast. The atmosphere was so kind and gentle that I didn’t have the heart to ruin it by questioning about her family and the circumstances that brought her into our lives.

We spent Sunday playing in the front yard, running in and out of the sprinkler. We hadn’t taken enough time to let our hair down and just hang out at home. Tina was good for us that way. I picked up a watermelon from a truck farmer who was selling his vegetables beside the road. I put it in the fridge until it got cold. When I finished carving it up, we ate until we were all covered with watermelon juice and needed baths.

Edwina and Cary took Tina for her bath, which gave Tara and me some privacy. We bathed together, then ran down to Michael’s old room and used his bed to make some noise and have some fun. Tara was extremely passionate, probably due to having a little one to mother. Once her mom juices started to flow, I figured it made her body crave one of her own, which led to arousal and passionate sex. We enjoyed the time alone until we were exhausted. After all that sex we had to shower all over again before bed.

Tara stayed with Tina Sunday night. I could hear them bonding through the wall. Every once in a while they would giggle up a storm, and then they would giggle some more trying to quiet down. It was precious.

Edwina wanted to snuggle but Cary needed more than a cuddle. I started to take Cary back to the basement, but Edwina stopped us. “Stay. I want to watch.” She said nothing else. Pretty soon Cary’s arousal overcame her reluctance and we made slow, caring, gentle, long lasting love. Our bodies were bathed in sweat from the exertion, even with central air conditioning. Cary drifted off to sleep and I needed to clean up.

Edwina joined me when I slipped out of bed to shower off. She hugged me like she was afraid that I’d disappear. When I looked closer, she was crying.

“Sweetheart ... What’s wrong? Did I do something bad?”

He tears almost kept her from replying, but she sniffled, and said, “I love you, Michael. I really, really do. But I feel like I don’t do ... you know ... IT ... I don’t do it with you and I’m afraid you think I don’t love you enough to...”

“You are so special to me, Edwina. There is nothing about you I would change except for this. You never need to worry about me not loving you enough. And you never need to worry about me. I know you love me, Baby. It’s all I need. If you want more someday, that’s just fine. If not, that is too. But, please stop worrying about it. I’m not.” And that was my final word on the subject.

Cary slept through the time it took me to rock Edwina’s world before we slept, too.

Monday morning brought not a Deputy Sheriff, but a phone call from the Sheriff himself. “Michael, this is Sheriff Cowell. I heard that you people picked up a stray child on Saturday and kept her for us over the weekend. What I have to tell you is going to sound harsh, but it is what it is and you need to tell me how you wish to proceed.” That sounded unpleasant.

He went on, without waiting for a reply. “We came across the body of a young woman who had been beaten to death. Her injuries were all made by fists and she was worked over very roughly before she died. There was significant evidence of old bruising so it looks like she had been handled that way often. The car where we found her was littered with luggage and things that clearly indicate they belonged to a young girl.

“When your Aunt called Detective Fowler, she stated that the child said that her mother’s boyfriend beat her until she went to sleep. I am reading Fowler’s report word for word. She reported that the child has no idea what her last name is, or where she came from, and that she can’t help us identify anything, or anyone, except that the her mother was injured by a man and she was thrown out of the car.

“Did I leave anything out?”

That seemed like a good time to tell the Sheriff that Tina said her mother’s name is Francine and her boyfriend is George. “That’s all we can come up with, Sheriff. I am so sorry to have so little to help you with.”

“Michael ... The body and the car are all we have, and they lead us to the conclusion that your little border is an orphan now.” He hesitated like the hard part as just about to come.

“We – our Deputies – had a confrontation with the driver of that car. They started to follow him after he drove through several stop signs and traffic light. He chose to try and run. Then he gave that up and decided to shoot. Neither of those options worked out for him. What happened is that my men killed him.

“This gets stranger. There is no registration, or license plate in the car. It has no identifying serial numbers that we can find, which means it was probably stolen, and neither body had a shred of identification on them. Your little one is completely alone, because have no way to look for relations who might take her in.

“Judge Ward says that your lawyer was in to file a petition giving your family custody until we find relatives, and that’s what he decided to do. You get to keep her for as long as it takes for some relative to come forward and claim her. Alistair is still with the Judge but he asked me to give you the news.

“Thank your aunts for being so kind and considerate. If we hear anything I will be sure to let you know.”

He was gone and we were parents.

When I told the girls they hooped and hollered for almost twenty minutes, twirling Tina around and giving her kisses, hugs and tickles. When I took them out of the room one at a time to tell them that Tina’s mother was murdered and that George was dead, the mood turned somber.

My only sadness at the sudden turn of events was that I wasn’t there put the bullet in George’s skull. That and I wished I’d been out on the road before George hurt Francine to death. He deserved to experience what he must have loved to dish out.

With an almost - or so we thought - five year old and school coming up, we took the court order and registered Tina Ryan for kindergarten held at the local Baptist Church. The first day of school was only a few weeks away, and we spent the time making sure that Tina got over missing her mother, looked forward to starting school, and we started the transition that she had to make to think of herself as part of our family. We did not speak to her, or speak about her as anything except our little girl, Tina. It took almost no time for the few people we were friendly with to begin to accept her as ours.

I did not want anyone wagging their tongue and causing her any embarrassment, or hurt, because they felt the need to be vicious gossips. Tina had enough to deal with without abuse from stupid woman with too little to keep them occupied.