Once a Rebel by Sheri Whitefeather Page B

filling in for me. There’s always so much todo, almost more than any of us—the employees and the volunteers—can handle.”
    â€œWhat sort of issues do you cover?”
    â€œEverything. Emotional, spiritual and social problems. Anything a teenager might face today. Sometimes it’s easier for them to call a hotline and talk to a stranger than approach someone they know. And the hotline is available twenty-four hours a day.” The noise from ranch hands repairing a fence made hollow sounds, echoing in the distance. “I need to make a difference, to devote my life to something that offers kids a choice.”
    He sipped his coffee, letting the hot beverage settle in his bones. “What was wrong when you were young, Susan? What happened between you and your dad?”
    She looked up, her eyes suddenly more hazel than green, something that happened when she turned sad. He used to study her, storing all of her gestures, habits and physical traits in his mind. The way she did with him, he supposed. They were both guilty of dissecting each other.
    â€œMy dad was a respected banker in our community,” she said. “But he was also a functioning alcoholic.”
    â€œAnd abusive?”
    She nodded. “Nothing any of us ever did was right. Vincent tried to protect us, but it didn’t help.”
    Ethan waited for her to continue. He knew Vincent was her oldest brother, a man who’d become a security specialist.
    â€œI was primed for a rebellion,” she said. “To prove that I could fight fire with fire.”
    And destroy her own innocence, he thought. Adrinker, a smoker, a girl who’d tried to make boys like her by giving them sexual favors, by laying her young soul on the line.
    She set her half-eaten muffin on top of the wrapper. “My dad and I had a horrible fight one night. I came home late, drunk as a lipstick-smeared skunk, and he blew a gasket. The ironic part is that he was wasted, too. Bleary-eyed from all those proper martinis. But he didn’t see it that way. He always made excuses for himself.” She reached for her coffee and held the cup against her chest. “He kicked me out, told me to go live on the streets. But my mother, passive as she was, reminded him that I was too young to be on my own. So Dad decided to pawn me off on the first relative who was willing to take me.”
    â€œRyan,” Ethan said, tempted to touch her, to absorb the texture of her skin.
    She nodded, her breathing soft and gentle, as light as the breeze that whispered in the wind. “He was my salvation. I spent almost a year defying him, going around this ranch, acting tough and getting into trouble. But toward the end, I realized how much he and his family cared about me.” She smiled at the memory. “Ryan treated me like one of his own children. The way a child should be treated. He held me accountable when I broke the rules, but he praised me when I did something right. He was proud of my academic achievements. He said kind things to me. He encouraged me to apply to prestigious colleges, to show the world what I was made of.”
    Inner strength, Ethan thought. And a reckless nature she’d learned to tame. “How is the rest of your familydoing?” he asked, wondering about her siblings. He’d never met them, not officially, but he knew who they were.
    â€œVincent got married a couple months ago,” she said. “He’s on an extended honeymoon, but it’s mainly to keep his wife out of danger. She witnessed a murder and the killer is still at large.” She paused, frowned. “It’s Jason Jamison, the man who threatened Ryan. You know about him, don’t you?”
    â€œYes. Ryan told me about him. He’s the reason security is so tight around here.” And now he understood why Ryan hadn’t hired Vincent’s company to do the job. Vincent was out of town.
    Susan resumed their conversation.