“Yeah,” he murmured, “that’s more like it. Nice pony. Caballito. That’s how we pet the pony.”
His head came up when he heard a car engine on the road. The vehicle wasn’t either the pickup or SUV with tinted windows he and Henderson had seen coming and going from the neighbor house. This one, he could tell even before it turned into Lia’s driveway, was aging and needed a tune up.
The car was a big old Buick, almost old enough to beg for restoration if it weren’t for the fact that it probably got twelve miles to the gallon. Besides, who’d want it? The door squealed when the driver opened it. Conall wondered what shape the shocks were in and how the car had handled the potholes.
A Hispanic man who might be in his forties stepped out, his dark eyes going right away to Conall who, carrying Julia, strolled over to meet him.
“Lia expecting you?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m Mateo Gonzalez.” He had a slight accent. “And you are?”
“Conall MacLachlan. Julia and I were visiting el caballito.” He grinned at the little girl, who grinned back.
“I’m here to pick Julia and her brother up. Her, er, aunt has arrived to get the kids.”
“Has she,” Conall said blandly. “And here I thought Lia said their mother would be back for them. When she could make it.”
The guy was sweating. Conall knew he shouldn’t toy with him, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.
Lia burst out the front door, and both men’s gazes swung to her. “Mateo. You’ve met Conall? I’ve got their stuff, but I’ll have to go back for Arturo. Oh, and their car seats are still in the Subaru.”
“Right. I’ll go get them,” Conall said.
Julia indignantly declined to go into Mateo’s arms. Accordingly, Conall carried her to the barn where the Subaru was parked, handing the other man one of the child seats while Conall grabbed the second one with his free hand. Mateo had buckled both into the back of his Buick by the time Lia returned, breathless, with Arturo. While Mateo loaded their limited possessions into the trunk and slammed it, Conall watched as Lia settled Arturo into his car seat and said her goodbyes. Her eyes were glazed with tears as she took Julia from him and circled the car to put her in, too. Then she and Mateo talked quietly, giving a couple of quick glances at Conall, before Mateo got in and drove away. Lia watched it go with one hand pressed to her mouth.
“How long have you had them?”
“Only…uh, three weeks.” She gave a tiny, resigned sniff. “I know I’m being silly, but I hate to say goodbye.”
“But you do it all the time.”
She nodded.
“It must be a hell of a lot harder when you’ve had the kids for months.”
“Yes.”
“Why? Why foster if it kills you every time they leave?” He didn’t begin to get it.
Her eyes were still shiny when they touched on his, then slid away. “It’s…complicated.”
Complicated. What did that mean? And why did it matter to him?
He shook his head. “You need to learn not to get attached.”
Lia’s laugh was small and broken. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Why would I be kidding?”
“How can I make them feel safe and loved if I don’t get attached?”
“Pretend,” he said, with a shrug. “Say the right things, cook for ’em, rock them to sleep if you have to, but don’t let yourself feel anything.”
Her eyes searched his. “So easy.”
He shifted, not liking the pity he saw on her face. “It has to be when you do my job.”
After a minute Lia said, “I suppose you’re right. But you know, it’s a lot easier to pretend with adults than it is with kids.”
Conall guessed that might be true. Maybe that’s why kids usually made him uneasy. The way they’d stare so openly, laying their emotions out there as foolishly as a wild animal that didn’t guard its scent from predators.
When he didn’t say anything, Lia started for the house. “I need to check on the boys.”
To her back, he said, “Lia.”
She stopped without turning.
He made his voice hard. “Tell me Matteo doesn’t know who I am and why I’m here.”