Two Guardians for Little May (2 page)

"No
arguments here. Do you really want to live here?" Layton glanced down the
quiet street. "Do they even have a physician? I've seen a vet's office. Do
you know how to deliver a cow?"

"Yeah,
smart ass. To both your questions. I happen to be very efficient in bovine
birthing. There is even a hospital a few miles north of here. I'd like to
return to doing house calls, though. There are a bunch of rural areas that need
health care and I can offer that."

"You've
got a good heart, little brother. I wish I could say the same for myself. I'm
too practical. Turn left at—let me see what he wrote—oh yes, the
old tree hit by lightning," Layton said mockingly. "There is nothing
like small town sensibilities. Slow down. There's someone along the
roadside."

"Excuse
me, Miss," Caine rolled down his window, "Do you know where the Old
Marshall place is?"

The
slight, blonde-haired woman paused to look at them. Her large, green eyes
against pale, slightly freckled skin, gave her a doll-like appearance.
"What's it to you?"

"We
own the place," Layton said, leaning across to look at her through Caine's
open window.

"Like
hell you do!" the girl yelled, before taking off in a dead run through the
copse of scraggly ancient oaks.

"What
was that about?"

"Beats
me. But she sure is adorable," Caine shrugged, pulling the truck back onto
the road. The paved road turned to gravel with dense, Spanish moss-covered oaks
and thick underbrush lining both sides. They drove another quarter of a mile
and the view opened to a large, blue lake.

"Nice,"
Layton whistled, "looks like there might be some decent fishing here.
That's a plus. Lots of nice horse trails, too."

Caine
grunted. "You are the only person I know who would notice things like
fishing and riding over a cute girl. And since you haven't engaged in either of
those activities in years, I would venture to say that you're useless in the
love department."

"Maybe
I need to rethink taking up a hobby. Fish and horse don't talk back or give me
grief, while women and kid brothers won't stop with the aggravation.
Shit," Layton leaned forward. "Do you think that's the place?"

Before
them stood a small, single-story, stone structure that reeked of years of
neglect. Broken windows and falling shutters suggested that it had been
abandoned to the elements for decades.

"It
is definitely a fixer-upper," Caine commented, exiting the vehicle.

Layton
was directly behind him. "Demolition is more like it."

"Looks
like someone is hanging out here, too. There's smoke coming from the
chimney," Caine pointed out.

"Maybe
it's the squatters we were warned about. Hello?"

The
sound of running footsteps caused both brothers to glance at each other, before
heading in opposite directions. They cornered their quarry in the hall behind
the termite-ridden wooden staircase.

"So,
we meet again," Layton said, looking down from a healthy height of
6'2".

The girl
they had met on the road glared up at him with about a foot difference.
"You have no right to be here. This is my home!"

"Well,
I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but we have every right to be
here." Layton narrowed his eyes.

"What's
your name?" Caine intervened. "I'm Caine and this old grouch is
Layton. This property belonged to our dad."

"Lyle?
Lyle was your father?" The girl's eyes grew large.

"Why,
yes, he was. He passed away one week ago today."

She
paused, then her face reddened. "Well, good riddance to him!" The
girl spat on the floor. "He was no better than the rest of the landlord
scum of this world."

"You
knew our dad? How?" Layton asked, blocking her path as she began to stomp
away. "No way, youngster. You aren't going anywhere until you answer some
questions."

"I
don't have to tell you nothing. And don't talk to me like I'm a child. I happen
to be twenty years old."

"The
phrase is 'tell you anything', and I beg to differ. As for speaking to you as
though you were a child, common sense has it that if you act like an adult,
then you will be treated like one. To start, adults do not spit or stomp
away," Layton corrected. "Start talking. How do you know our
father?"

"Go
to bloody hell," the girl hissed, standing her ground.

"I
think we are getting off to a bad start," Caine intervened. "Please,
tell us your name."

"May.
Maybelle Corinne Wright."

"It's
good to meet you, Miss May," Caine said. "Have you been here
long?"

"Long
enough. Tell that big clout to stop looking at me like I was something to
eat," May ordered.

"Eating
you was not on my mind. I was thinking more along the lines of paddling your
backside for having such a fresh mouth," Layton grumbled aloud.

"You're
just one big bully!" May screeched, suddenly kicking Layton in the shin and
diving out the window. The broken, jagged glass ripped her thigh and left
behind a piece of her old jeans, spotted with blood.

"Now
you've done it," Caine scolded his brother. "Why is it so impossible
for you to act like a human being?"

"Me?
The little imp bruised my leg," Layton complained, rubbing his shin.

"You
scared her. We need to find her. She cut herself up on this glass and who knows
what crap got into her wound."

"Damn
it, Caine. When are you going to stop trying to turn me into someone's hero? I
really don't care what happens to her. She's trespassing."

"She
knew Pop. That means that he was well aware of the existence of this place. I
just can't believe that he would have permitted anyone, especially a little
girl, to live in this dump for any reason."

"Maybe
she kicked him in the shin and he stopped giving a shit."

"Nah,
he would have blistered her behind and then went back to normal, like nothing
ever happened. I just find the whole thing very strange and not at all
congruent with his character. I'm curious as to what other secrets are hiding
out here, aren't you?"

"Not
really. I have no interest in secrets, just facts. Moreover, facts that are
handed to me, not ones I have to search for. I'm also not in the mood to deal
with some little vagrant with a bad attitude."

"Layton,
I have yet to see you in the mood to deal with anyone, no matter what their
attitude is. You go and follow that path into the woods, and I'll go along the
edge of the lake. If you find her, try to be pleasant for crying out
loud."

Layton
kicked away stones from the path, not paying any attention to his surroundings.
Finding the sassy-mouthed brat was not a top priority. Despite his comment to
Caine, Layton was far more curious about the story surrounding this place, and
the extent of his father's involvement. Lost in thought, he failed to duck when
an object flew straight at his head. "Ow!" he shouted as something
smacked him in the cheek. "What the…"

"Go
away!" the girl shouted, throwing another pine cone and catching him in
the shoulder. "You don't belong here. Lyle said this is my home and I
didn't have to leave. Ever!"

"Stop
throwing things at me, damn it. I swear, one more and… Ow!"

"I
thought I heard shouting," Caine trotted up to them just before Layton's
temper blew. "Sweetheart, your leg is bleeding. I'm a doctor. Let me clean
that out."

"No.
I'm fine," she answered, with another pinecone held solidly in her hand
for a well-aimed pitch. "Tell this beast to get away from me."

"Layton
isn't going to hurt you and neither am I. This is real pretty here. How long
have you been in the area?"

"Six
months. Lyle said I could stay as long as I wanted."

"Pop
made you live in that dilapidated piece of shit? You are lying!" Layton
glared at her. "He would never have allowed anyone to stay in a place like
that."

"I
wasn't living there, you stupid jerk," the girl sneered back. "I hang
out there when I want to get way from the main house."

"There's
another building?" Caine asked.

"Duh.
This was the groundskeeper's place. The main house is over there." She
pointed north.

"It's
not cold. Why did you have a fire burning?" Layton asked with a frown.

"It
relaxes me. I need relaxing, especially when I meet up with a jerk like you.
I'm not going anywhere. Lyle made me a promise."

"Now,
see here. I'm not having some insolent little piece of—"

"Layton,
put a cork in it. If Pop made a promise to help her, I sure as hell will honor
that. May? I really need to look at your leg. If it gets infected, you are
going to be one sorry young lady."

"If
I get my hands on her backside, she's gonna be one sorry young lady,"
Layton mumbled. May scowled at him and aimed her pinecone for his head. It
struck him squarely on the temple.

"Ow!
That's it. I am gonna…"

Caine
shot him a look and stepped between them. "…do nothing," he completed
the sentence. He reiterated. "You are going to do nothing until we
straighten all this out. Miss May, will you please escort me to the main
house?"

He held
out his hand for her to accept. Her face contorted with confusion as she glanced
between the offered palm and the open, trusting face of the man who extended
it.

"I
don't bite," Caine smiled. "Walk me back with you. Please?"

"She
doesn't need to hold your hand," Layton grunted.

May
glared at him, and spitefully snatched Caine's hand in her own. As she dragged
him to the main house, she turned her head and spontaneously stuck her tongue
out in the direction of the annoyed elder brother.

They
followed the path to the open gardens of an old brick colonial that had been
fastidiously maintained. An older woman stepped onto the porch, wiping her
hands with a dishrag.

"Maybelle,
where have you been? You have chores to finish."

"I
had things to do."

"And
I will have a switch to cut if you keep talking back to me. My name is
Clara." She extended her hand to Caine. "And who do I have the
pleasure of meeting?"

"They
claim to be Lyle's boys. This is Caine and I don't give a shit about the other
one."

"Watch
your manners, young lady! Mr. Lyle did you a great favor and this is how you
repay it? Please, come in, gentlemen. I keep the Lake House and watch out over
the residents. You," she pointed at May, "get yourself cleaned up and
finish your chores."

"It's
good to meet you, Clara. Thank you," Caine said, flashing a dimpled white
smile. "You have the sound of a southern belle. Louisiana?"

"Quite
so, my boy." Clara patted Caine's cheek as she studied his face, her eyes
brimming with tears. "You look so much like your daddy did when he was a
youngster. You're a doctor, correct?"

"Yes.
Ma'am. Obstetrician."

"Your
ladies must absolutely adore you." She shifted her smile to look into the
snarling face of his brother. "You must be Layton."

"Yes
ma'am. Layton Marshall, Esq. That little brat's daddy needs to give her a good
thrashing," Layton said, as May offered an obscene gesture while
sauntering inside. "What the hell is going on here?"

"It
seems that you inherited his rudeness. Well, that was switched out of him real
quick." Clara scolded, her tight, snow-white bun bobbing on top of her
head as she wagged her finger at him. She led them into the house and gestured
towards the couch in the sitting room. "You will speak in a respectful
manner to your elders. Now sit yourself down."

"How
do you know our father?" Caine asked, shooting Layton a filthy look.
Layton ignored him, stretching his neck to see May peering around the doorway.

"I've
known your daddy since he was knee-high to a grasshopper. Just so you
know," she directed at Layton, "Neither my mama nor myself put up
with any sass from him then, and won't put up with it from his boy even now. I
don't care how old you are. Understand me?"

Layton
looked down at the heavy set woman with piercing gray eyes. "Wait a
minute. You couldn't have been Pop's nanny. You're too young."

"It's
about time you said something nice," Clara blinked prettily, her southern
charms still elegant after decades past. "My mama was his nanny but I kept
an eye out for him once I got a bit older."

"I
remember him telling stories about you. Your mama helped raise him after his
dad went to war, right?"

"That
is true. He was like a little brother to me, one who I loved very much. Now, I
am waiting for an apology."

"Now,
see here…"

"Layton,
get your head out of your ass," Caine whispered, as he punched his
brother's arm. "Pop would skin you alive if he heard you talking to her
like that."