NOMAD (Sons of Sanctuary Book 3) Read online

  “Okay. You name ten things a person such as yourself might go to college to learn and I’ll guess which one you’re interested in.”

  She contemplated that while finishing her bite of fish sandwich. “Alright. Ten things. Astronomy. Medieval literature. Mandarin Chinese. City planning. Special education. Psychology. Computer programming. Theater. Architecture. Zoology.” She picked up a couple of French fries and said, “Go,” before putting them in her mouth.

  “I get three guesses.”

  “Do not.”

  “It’s my game. I get three guesses.”

  “It’s my life. You do not.”

  “So you’re saying I have to nail it on the first try or I’ll never know?”

  “Never say never, Johns.”

  “Sage advice. It’s not Medieval literature or Mandarin Chinese or special education.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you added details to throw me off. If it was one of those things you would have just said literature, Chinese, or education.”

  “Huh.”

  He smiled inwardly, knowing that response meant he was right. “So that leaves seven. There’s nothing laughable about computer programming or architecture or astronomy. So that leaves four possibilities. Zoology. That might be funny. Theater. Definitely funny. Psychology. A lot of people, including me, think that’s funny. But I’m going to guess city planning.”

  She gasped. “How did you do that? Are you like psychic or something?”

  He smiled. “Just worked it out logically.”

  “No. No. No.” She was shaking her head. “You didn’t just work it out logically. There’s more to it than that.”

  He glanced out the window. “I’ve been on the road for a long time. Mostly alone. Lots of people-watching. I guess I picked up some instincts.”

  “Instincts.”

  “Yes. My instincts about you say city planning.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, for one thing, being seventeen and completely without support or resources, but determined to keep a baby the dad doesn’t want? That means you’re optimistic about the future. I think city planners need to be optimistic about the future.”

  “Wow.” She put the rest of her sandwich in the sack and settled back with the French fries. “So why have you been on the road? Alone?”

  “Long story. Maybe another time. You want to drive for a while?”

  “Um. Sure?”

  “You do know how to drive, right? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have a license.”

  “I do. I really do. I’ve just never driven on the highway.”

  Cann slowed down and pulled over. “Well, little mama, it’s high time you did.”

  Five minutes later, Bud’s seat and mirrors were adjusted and she was pulling back on the highway.

  The two-lane State road between Lubbock and Sweetwater wasn’t heavily traveled. An occasional pickup truck or tractor were the only interruptions to a fairly constant landscape.

  “You can go faster than forty?”

  “You sure?” she asked.

  He snorted softly. “You’ve really never driven a car faster than this?”

  “First time,” she affirmed.

  “Well, at this pace, we’re not gettin’ to Austin until tomorrow.”

  She took a deep breath. “You’re taking our lives into my own hands.”

  “You ever play video games?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Then I’m not worried. Just gradually increase your speed until you feel comfortable goin’ faster.”

  “K boss.”

  He left her alone to concentrate on driving for a while, but when it seemed that she had relaxed into road trip mode, he said, “So why did you think I’d laugh about city planning?”

  She wagged her head from side to side. “Because it sounds high and mighty, I guess.”

  He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “All dreams sound high and mighty when there’s a big distance between where you are and where you want to go.” She smiled. “What?”

  “You’re a biker philosopher.”

  “Not really.”

  “What are you really?”

  “This and that.”

  “What does that mean, Johns?”

  He sighed. “I used to have a business. Online. I was a matchmaker.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Not that kind. I matched up vintage auto parts with people who were lookin’ for ‘em.”

  “Oh. What happened?”

  “Walked out. I think it’s still goin’ on though.” He laughed softly. “Business is probably gonna outlast me.” He gave the landscape a rueful smile. “So. How does a girl from El Paso get interested in city planning?”

  “That’s the part where you’ll laugh.”

  “Oh that’s the part.”

  “Promise you won’t laugh.”

  “Not gonna promise that, but I’ll say this. If you can get a laugh outta me, you should get a prize for it.”

  “Why? Nothing is funny to you?”

  “Spill it.”

  “Okay! Your license says you’re twenty-five. Happy birthday, by the way. But you act like an old man.”

  “I am an old man who’s not interested in birthdays. You gonna tell me or not?”

  “Yes. I’m gonna tell you because there’s nothing else to do in this car and I think you’re right. Nothing I say is gonna make you laugh.”

  “It’s a van. Not a car. And I think you should go into sales. You can talk around somethin’ without sayin’ what you mean more than anybody I’ve ever met.”

  “Huh.”

  He laughed.

  “You laughed!” she said.

  “All right. You get the prize.”

  “Look. I’m going sixty-five.”

  “Tryin’ to keep my heartrate steady.”

  “Well, speed may not be new to you…”

  “Stop right there. This, what we’re doing here, is not speed.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re not driving.”

  “That makes no sense.”

  “Whatever.”

  “City planning.”

  “SimCity.” He shook his head. “That doesn’t mean anything to you?”

  “No. Should it?”

  “Well, yeah! You never saw the Sim games?”

  “No.”

  “Well, this guy who knew my dad from work gave us some of these computer games. You can build virtual cities, but you have to take all the details into account, like commercial zones, residential zones, where to put the streets and parks, what the buildings should look like and what their functions are. You have to figure out quality of life. Where people work in relationship to where they live and where they play. Where should schools go? Where should water treatment go? What about garbage? And you have a budget you have to work with.

  “Then later there were all these other editions like SimCity Amusement Park. That one was really fun.” She laughed. “It even had a little guy who yakked after he got off the roller coaster. It was hysterical.” Cann looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Oh and SimCity of the Future.

  “I loved those games. I could spend a whole weekend fooling around with this and that, trying to make it perfect, and I never got tired of it.”

  “But that’s not the way cities get built in real life.”

  “I know. But…”

  “But what?”

  “Modern cities are reconceiving themselves. They’re hiring people to figure out how to repurpose or renew to keep the population closer to where they work and play. That’s way more challenging than building a virtual city from the ground up. And way more exciting because it’s real people and real lives.”

  Cann took over the driving after a restroom stop, but Bud continued to talk about the ins and outs of city planning until they stopped at a barbeque buffet in Abilene, but took the food to go.

  When they were back in the car with brisket sandwiches, she said, “So Au
stin is home?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t been back for a while, but I was born there.”

  Since they were only three hours away, he thought it would be a good time to figure out what he was going to do with her when they got there.

  “You thought about where you want me to drop you?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “Since you know the town and all, I thought you could recommend a semi-safe neighborhood with a good walk score.”

  “What the hell is a walk score?”

  “It means it’s a place where you can live without a car. You can walk to work and get groceries and stuff like that.”

  He harrumphed, which did serve to support his claim that he was an old man in a young man’s body. “Look. I don’t have to tell you this ain’t New York. The only place that has a good ‘walk score’ is the University of Texas and I’m tellin’ you right now you can’t afford to live around there.”

  Her shoulders sagged as she slumped back against the front passenger seat. “Bus score?”

  He snorted and shook his head. “Last time I was home, we had some junkers out back at Rides and Wrecks. Maybe we can find you somethin’ that runs. And you can pay us back when you’re a famous city planner.”

  She turned to look at Cann in the gathering twilight. She felt emotion pressing behind her eyes and felt tears trying to form. She took in a deep breath and determined she wouldn’t cry.

  “You’re an awful nice man, Johns. You gave me money. For no reason. Now you’re saying you might find me a car and let me pay it out? I’m not so unlucky, ‘cause you’re the one who found me.”

  Cann was on the verge of being embarrassed. He didn’t feel like a nice man. He felt like a wretched man.

  “Now just stop that business right now. Everybody needs a hand up now and then. It’s no big deal.”

  “It is a big deal.” He waved her off by spreading the fingers on the hand that gripped the steering wheel. “What is Rides and Wrecks?”

  “It’s an outfit my club owns. Makes custom vehicles for celebrities and rich people who need shiny toys.”

  “Sons of Sanctuary?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What does nomad mean?”

  Cann didn’t answer for a few minutes. “It means you got no home.”

  “But I thought you were going home?”

  “I am.”

  “So you’re not going to be nomad anymore?”

  “That’s right. I’m done.” He was done with being nomad and he was done talking about the subject. “Now about tonight. I can take you to a motel if you want to dive into some of that cash you’ve got in that thing you carry. But we’ve got a guest room at the club where you could stay if you want. Just for tonight. Nobody will bother you. Tomorrow morning we can fix you up with a ride and maybe you can find a job.” He looked for the headlights since they hadn’t come on automatically. “And a doctor.”

  “A doctor.”

  “Remember when I told you babies are work?” She nodded. “It starts now. You have to take vitamins and eat good and go to appointments to make sure everything is okay.”

  “Okay,” she said softly, touched that he actually seemed to care what happened to a stranger and her baby.

  It was around eight when they blew past the Austin city limits. Just before they reached the club compound, he realized that, for the first time in years, he’d spent several hours awake and not sad. But that revelation didn’t bring him either relief or satisfaction. It made him feel guilty, like he’d deliberately betrayed the memory of Molly and the baby.

  When he pulled up to the SSMC gate, a voice on the box said, “Cann. That you?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. Let me in.”

  A kid came trotting over to open the gate. After they parked, Bud got her bag and followed Cann inside. What happened next was hardly the kind of homecoming he’d imagined.

  There on the giant screen TV was a freeze-frame image of him with Bud at the bank in Barburnett. Several club members including Brant and Brash were standing and sitting around the bar, looking unhappy to say the least.

  When Cann saw the image, he froze in his tracks and gaped. “What the…”

  “You’re a wanted man,” said Brant with alarming calm. “Everybody’s looking for that little girl. After her picture had been plastered on the news, the bank at Barburnett called in a report that she was in the bank, probably under duress, with a shady character who’s a member of a motorcycle ‘gang’.”

  Brant practically spit that word. He hated having his club referred to as a gang.

  “Needless to say,” Brant continued, “you will not be staying long. But we’d like to enjoy your company long enough to find out what the fuck is going on.”

  Cann turned to Bud. “Do you know anything about this?”

  His stomach roiled when he saw that she looked sheepish. “My daddy may be abusing his office some.”

  “His office? What does that mean?” Cann practically boomed.

  Bud took a tentative step back and looked around the room anxiously. “He’s a Texas Ranger?”

  “Jesus Christ!” Cann turned his back on her, ran a hand through his hair, and pulled on it in a way that looked painful. “You’ve brought the Rangers here?”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t. I just got a ride.”

  “To the Ranger capital of the world?!?” He was full-on shouting.

  “How’d you end up with this girl, Cann?” Brant interrupted what was building up to a full-on tirade.

  “She’s pregnant and a week shy of eighteen. Says her daddy was gonna force her to get rid of it. She’s tryin’ to avoid him until her birthday.”

  Brant shook his head, but looking around the room he could tell that any one of them, in the same circumstance, might have done the same thing.

  “Just a week?” Brant directed the question to Bud. She nodded solemnly, looking a little scared. “You healthy?” She looked confused by the question, but nodded again.

  “Where’s your bike?” Brant asked Cann.

  “Inside the van.”

  “Where’d you get the van?”

  “Bought it used in Amarillo at a Chevy dealership.”

  “Why?”

  “Looked like rain.” It was Cann’s turn to look sheepish. Axel and Burn, who were sitting at the bar, turned away but didn’t do a very good job of hiding their laughter.

  “Well,” Brant said, “chances are the folks at Chevy saw you, too.” He glanced at Bud. “So here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna take Arnold’s new dually that still has paper plates on it and go out to the safe house in Big Bend. It has spare tanks so you won’t have to stop for gas. Go shave that beard off and cut your hair so you won’t be recognized. Do not wear your cut.”

  To Bud he said, “If you gotta go, you’re gonna have to go by the side of the road.”

  She stared at Brant, too scared of him to say anything.

  Turning back to Cann, he continued. “Take enough provisions so you don’t have to leave that house until she’s eighteen goddamn years old. Am I understood?”

  “Jesus Christ,” said Cann.

  “What was that?”

  “Yeah, boss,” Cann corrected.

  “Good. While you’re making yourself look like a nice clean-cut tradesman, we’ll be loading the truck.”

  “You hungry?” he asked Bud. She shook her head vigorously. “You worth all this trouble?” She stared at Brant for a few beats and then grinned. “You got somethin’ to say to me?”

  “Thank you?” she said.

  “If we all get out of this,” he pointed toward her belly, “him or her included, without charges being filed, you can name him or her after me.”

  “No promises,” she said.

  Brant looked at Cann. “World of shit, brother.” Cann was wearing an expression that said he agreed completely. “Oh,” Brant chuckled, “there’s no electricity at the safe house. There were some old dusty books last time I was there, but it’s been a long ti
me.”

  To the room in general Brant said, “Come on everybody. Hop to. We’ve got to get them on their way outta here before the Rangers track Cann to us.” He looked at Cannon pointedly. “Which will be any minute. Give me the keys to the van.”

  When Cann handed them over, Brant threw the keys to Burn. “You and Axel get that thing outta here and make sure it isn’t found.”

  “My bike’s in there. And my stuff,” Cann told Burn.

  “They’re not lookin’ for the bike. Park it in plain sight and stow his stuff in the dually. Give me your phone.” Brant passed the phone on to Axel. “For Christ’s sake, get that out of here, too.”

  Brant turned to Bud and she had to resist the impulse to step behind Cann’s body for cover. “You got a phone, young lady?” She shook her head no, looking a little wide-eyed that she was being addressed directly by the guy who was apparently king of all he surveyed.

  “She tellin’ the truth?” he asked Cann.

  Cann looked down at Bud. “Truthfully, I don’t know.”

  Bud narrowed her eyes at Cann like he was a traitor, but her more logical half agreed that he had no way of knowing who she was, what she’d do, or why she’d do it.

  She put her bag on the ground, unzipped it and left it open for them to look. Then she unzipped her jacket, held it out to the sides and turned around slowly.

  That seemed to satisfy everybody because they turned to going about their assigned tasks.

  Brash called his wife to come quick because she was pretty handy around a pair of scissors. She was there in ten minutes.

  When Cannon walked out into the club’s main room, Bud had to do a double take. He looked ten years younger without the beard and the cut. He was wearing a gray knit hoodie. But his youthful look was overshadowed by the menace of the glower he was wearing. She was having second thoughts about not mentioning her daddy’s profession, but she really hadn’t thought the old man would pull strings to make it look like she was a kidnap victim.

  “All loaded,” Brant said as they walked toward the dually. “Take the back way and don’t poke your heads up until that girl is legal. Here’s directions to the house.” Cann took the map and printed directions. “We’ll call the caretakers. There’s a family close by that will tidy up, make sure the sheets are clean, stock firewood. This time of year might be cold at night. Might be hot as blazes durin’ the day. They’ll leave you some gallon-size bottles of water and bags of ice in coolers. Closest thing to a refrigerator. Maria’ll stop by once a day to see if you need anything.”