Forbidden Falls (Virgin River #9)(86)

“Please,” she said pitifully. “Can’t I take them with me? At least until we can see the judge again? My lawyer filed something, asking for another court date. Soon.”

“I’m a licensed foster parent,” Jo Fitch said abruptly. “I was a foster-care provider and kept up my license. It’s been a few years, but I know these children. And what’s more important, they know me.”

“And your relationship to the family?”

“Ellie has been renting the furnished room over our garage since she’s been working for Pastor Kincaid. It’s on the same property as the house, but it’s not attached. And we have two extra bedrooms. On some of Ellie’s Saturdays with the kids, they spent the day with Nick and I, baking, painting, reading. I think they’d feel safe there—and their mother’s nearby. Listen,” Jo said to the social worker, “all custody orders aside, this is a fine young woman, a wonderful mother. Believe me, I’ve been around the block with parents whose kids were in the system and I know what I’m talking about.”

“We had a total of nineteen,” Nick said, stepping forward, slipping an arm around Jo’s shoulders.

“Oh, God,” Ellie prayed. “Please. I could tuck them in. I could have meals with them. And with Jo, I know they’d be safe.”

The social worker looked down while she considered this. She looked up and said, “You understand, the foster parent is in charge? Even if they’re right next door, even if you have access to them, the foster parent has the last word.”

“That’s not a problem,” Ellie assured her. “I won’t interfere. As long as they’re safe, I won’t interfere.”

“Well, let’s go back to the office and check your credentials,” she said to Jo. “Just so we don’t muck up the procedure and make it worse on these kids, I’ll get a judge on the phone. It shouldn’t take long. Then if everything is in order, you can take them home. Since you haven’t provided foster care in a while, expect a few unscheduled visits.”

“By all means,” Jo said, following behind the social worker.

A half hour later they were under way, herding the kids into the sheriff’s substation parking lot. And there, leaning against his big black SUV, was Arnie. He was glowering at them. It brought Ellie up short with a gasp.

Noah grabbed her upper arm and whispered in her ear, “Say nothing. Absolute silence. Let’s get these kids away from here with Jo and Nick.”

“Right,” she said. She quickly settled Trevor into his seat belt while Jo made sure Danielle was fastened in. And as they pulled away, Ellie leaned against Noah and gave a huge sigh of relief.

Ellie’s relief was short-lived. Noah took the keys from her hand and drove, despite her protest that she was just fine. And they’d no sooner cleared the parking lot of the sheriff’s substation when the headlights of that big, black SUV beamed through the PT Cruiser’s windows, nearly blinding Noah as they hit the rearview mirror. The roar of the engine was loud; Arnie was driving within inches of the back fender.

“What the hell is he doing?” Ellie said, turning to look into the glare.

“Harassing. Don’t turn around. Don’t look at him.”

“Noah, turn around. Go back to the sheriff’s department.”

“Uh-uh,” he said, pulling up to a Stop sign. “Not yet. I want him with us, not with Jo and Nick and the kids.” He sat at the Stop sign for far longer than necessary while Arnie revved his engine. Then he pulled away slowly. “I thought maybe he’d get out, charge the car, pick a fight. I’m a little surprised. Happy, but surprised.”

“I’m not. Noah, he’s going to get us going up the mountain. He’ll rear-end us right off the road, down the side.”

“No, that’s not going to happen.” He adjusted the mirror to get rid of the glare. Then he took a couple of turns, stopped a couple more times and lingered, staying in town. “Eyes front, Ellie. We’re not going to engage him. Um—does Arnie have guns?”

“He said he did, but that they were locked up safe. I never saw them. He didn’t take time to go in the house before following the deputy to the station. Unless he has one in the car…” She slid down in the seat as Noah drove through a motel parking lot, back out onto the main street, the SUV close on his tail.

“Are you sure he never hit you or the kids? While you were with him?”

She shook her head. “Sometimes he looked like he was going to either explode or coldcock me, but he didn’t. He brooded. Pouted. Grumbled and accused and demanded, but he was never physical.”

“He’s a powder keg,” Noah said.

“He’s so close! How does he manage to keep from hitting us with his car?” she asked. “Pray, Noah. Really.”

Noah laughed softly and thought—two boats and a helicopter, and made yet another right turn, that big SUV inches from his bumper. There were only a few Stop signs in town and he slowed down as he approached the only light while it was green. He purposely caught the end of the yellow and forced Arnie to run a red light. “Where’s a cop when you need one?” he muttered.

“What are you doing? Giving me a tour?”

“Giving Jo, Nick and the kids a good head start,” he said. He glanced at the console clock. “You know what? This is a good little car, Ellie. She’s got some zip.”