Rescued Runaway



  Rescued Runaway

  By

  Bill Sanderson

  Copyright Notice

  Copyright (c) 2014, William A. Sanderson, all rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  License Notes

  Running Home

  Getting His Attention

  Choosing Hope

  May-September Wedding

  The Vicar’s Daughter

  A Brother’s Duty

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Notice

  License Notes

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  About the Author

  Other Books

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  I’m so cold.

  Cassie stood under an awning and looked at the door to the strip club through the drizzle.

  Maybe the next guy will be okay.

  She sighed.

  Maybe.

  She grimaced ruefully as her teeth chattered.

  He’s got to be better than going back home and dealing with Mum and Gord.

  A pair of inebriated men emerged from the strip club leaning on each other and sharing a joke with a leer on their faces.

  She descended the steps to the sidewalk and began to approach them. The younger of the pair looked clean enough but he had a wedding ring. So did the older man.

  She sighed and let her shoulders slump. She couldn’t be party to someone breaking their marriage vows, even if it was just a grope or two. She would not be like her mother, who had broken her marriage vows so easily and so often. She walked quickly past the two laughing men. The smell of whiskey that surrounded the two of them confirmed that she made the right decision.

  When she got to the corner she gave a bitter snort. Why did it matter if the guy was married? She was seriously thinking of trading her body for a warm bed.

  A girl she talked to outside the soup kitchen told her it would be easy to get a bed for the night if you hung around a strip joint. If you didn’t want to wait for one of the girls to get off work and hope she’d have room on her sofa, you could let a really drunk guy pick you up and take you back to his place. Let him get in a few gropes and wait for him to fall asleep. Then you can steal a few bucks to tide you over for a while and, if you’re lucky, get a hot shower before leaving.

  But Cassie couldn’t do it. The really drunk guys reminded her too much of her mother’s husband and she didn’t think the less wasted ones who’d looked interested would settle for just a grope. She wasn’t ready to sell her body for a bed. Yet.

  But it’s getting close, she thought, as another uncontrollable shiver coursed through her. I can’t go back home. Not while Gord is there.

  She retraced her steps and climbed up to the alcove under the awning then huddled back into the recessed doorway wishing the rain would let up. She was already soaked to the skin.

  She thought about climbing back up to the balcony of that unoccupied apartment nearby. It had an ancient lounge chair with an old ratty quilt where she could sleep out of sight from the ground and the neighbours.

  But the balcony had no protection from the rain and she wasn’t sure when the occupants would be back from vacation. She hadn’t needed her raincoat when she’d run away from home and there hadn’t been anything at The Well that she didn’t swim in. Maybe there would be something tomorrow – if she didn’t end up in the hospital first.

  She dropped her pack then slid down the wall to the floor of the alcove and hugged her knees trying to conserve heat. The cold puddle on the landing soaked into the bottom of her jeans but she was too far gone to care. Maybe if she could warm up a little she could work up the courage to approach the next drunk who came out of the club. Maybe.

  ———

  Frank was pacing his hotel suite, again, trying to find the right way to phrase a particularly complicated section of his analysis, again. He gazed out the window and down to the rain soaked street. A look of distaste came over him as he saw the flashing sign for the strip club. He didn’t blame the women – much. If you were that desperate, a job was a job, but he did blame the parade of men entering and leaving. Sex and desire had their proper place in helping to bind a husband and wife together but it was misused so often. He gave a rueful grimace as he remembered his pre-Christian days and how he’d misused it, too.

  A flash of wet blonde hair in an alcove to the left caught his eye. “She’s still there,” he muttered to himself as he checked the clock radio to see it turn over to 11:21. “It’s been almost three hours now.” As he watched she squared her shoulders and descended the three steps to the sidewalk and began to approach a pair of inebriated men before speeding up and walking quickly past them. Frank’s eyes followed her to the intersection where she stood taking several deep breaths before turning to walk back towards the strip joint.

  “What is she up to?” Report forgotten, he stood at the window watching while she sat down in the alcove and hugged her knees. The only thing he could see now was the wet blonde hair resting on the knees of her wet jeans above a pair of dirty white trainers. Her posture was one of utter defeat.

  Frank turned to the desk in his suite, arranged his papers into a neat pile and weighed them down with his laptop. With a big sigh he grabbed his raincoat and umbrella.

  ———

  “Are you okay, Miss?”

  Cassie looked suspiciously at the man on the sidewalk in front of her. “Maybe.”

  Frank looked skeptically at the girl in front of him. “I’ve been watching you shiver for about three hours now.”

  Cassie looked around in alarm and realized that with the restaurant locked up for the evening the alcove only had one exit which was now blocked by the man in front of her. Dumb move. She stood up and began to panic.

  Frank sensed her panic and backed away to stand to one side, giving her a clear escape route. He waved a hand towards the building across the street. “I have a suite in the hotel there. I tend to stare out the window while I’m thinking. I’m working on a tough report so I’ve had a lot to think about.” He pointed up. “That’s my suite up there, fifth floor on that corner.”

  Cassie relaxed somewhat and hugged herself to try to stay warm. She tried to suppress a shiver but couldn’t.

  “Do you have somewhere to go? Can I drive you home?”

  An immediate and loud, “No,” was her answer.

  “To both?”

  Cassie nodded.

  “Can I escort you to a shelter?”

  Cassie shivered again, from both the cold and the thought of the shelters she’d tried to get into. “
They ask too many questions at the women’s shelters and the men in front of the co-ed buildings are …”

  Frank frowned. “Too scary?”

  “Yeah.” Cassie’s teeth began to chatter.

  Frank asked. “Any friends? Other relatives?”

  “Not in Ottawa and I haven’t been able to get enough money to get to friends in Toronto.”

  “Oh.”

  Cassie started to shiver uncontrollably. “Do you have any other ideas about where I could go to get a bed for the night?”

  Frank started to say no and walk away but the wounded and discouraged look on her face was too much to take. He remembered finding his fourteen year old niece, Jan, safe in his apartment in Dartmouth after she ran away from home and tried to imagine her soliciting strangers to get a warm bed. He got a crawling flesh feeling and shuddered. “What’s your name?”

  “Cassie.”

  “Just Cassie?”

  “For now.”

  “Okay, Miss Cassie Just Cassie, I’m Frank, Frank Ellis. If you think you can trust me, I’ve got a couch in the living room part of my suite that you can crash on for tonight.”

  Cassie was torn. Frank felt safe, kind of. But Gord looked okay when he was first going out with her mum. Until the inheritance money from Granny and Dad was gone and Gord got into dealing and Mum started turning tricks again to support their habits. Frank was sober and looked like a better bet than the last drunk who leered at her itty bitty boobs when she got close to him. But Frank’s eyes never left her face. She searched Frank’s welcoming and sincere face and asked, “Just a bed?”

  “And a shower, if you want one. And some leftover pizza if you’re hungry. There’s tea. Or hot chocolate. I have some nice fruit salad, too.”

  Cassie shivered again and her reservations evaporated at the thought of a meal and a hot shower. In a very nervous, quiet voice, she said, “Okay. Thanks.”

  Frank quietly released the breath he’d been holding and shrugged off his raincoat. “Here, this should keep you warm enough until we get to my room.”

  Cassie gratefully wrapped the still warm overlarge coat around herself and reached back to get her pack. Frank offered his arm and held the large umbrella over both of them.

  Before they got to the corner, a police cruiser pulled up. The woman officer behind the wheel asked, in a suspicious tone, “Is everything okay?”

  Cassie stiffened in alarm. Frank said, “Everything’s fine, officer. Cassie’s having some problems at home and my sister asked me to find her and make sure she was okay. I’m going to get some food into her and then we’ll figure out what to do next.”

  Cassie said, in a firm but respectful tone, “Thank you for asking, officer.”

  The constable still looked suspicious but nodded and said, “Take care. Make sure your folks know where you are. They’ll be worried about you.”

  Cassie smiled reassuringly. “I will,” she lied, while thinking, like Mum would notice, or care.

  “You do that.” The officer’s eyes scanned the street then she pulled out into traffic.

  As they crossed the street, Cassie said, “Thank you. I was wondering if she was going to run us in.”

  “Well, even if Bonnie doesn’t know you, she wouldn’t want to hear that I had a chance to help and turned my back on you.”

  Cassie moved a bit closer to Frank as they entered the lobby and made their way to the elevators. A few suspicious glances were sent their way accompanied by a couple of disgusted looks as the observers assumed they knew what was happening. Cassie caught the looks and said, “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  Frank started to agree, but stopped himself. “I know I don’t. But now that I’ve brought Bonnie into the conversation, I don’t think I can send you away.” He nudged the small of her back to move her to the open elevator car.

  “Who’s Bonnie?”

  “My oldest sister. Her daughter Jan ran away from home this spring because she couldn’t take her parents fighting all the time. I found Jan at my place when I got back from a business trip. Bonnie and Gray were frantic ‘cause she’s only fourteen, about your age I’d guess, though Jan’s a few inches taller than you.”

  “I’m almost eighteen, Frank.”

  Frank turned to examine her in the good light of the elevator car. She was perhaps five foot three and skinny as a rail. What he’d assumed to be the coltishness of the early teen years was undernourishment. Her hair was beginning to dry to a whitish blonde, with wisps of wayward hair escaping her ponytail to frame an oval face, making her pale grey eyes seem less waif-like than under the orange glare of the streetlights.

  The elevator stopped on the fifth floor and they got out. Cassie trailed behind as he walked to the end of the corridor and opened the door to his suite. She stopped just inside the doorway to drop her pack and take off her sodden shoes and socks.

  Frank came back to help her out of the raincoat and said, in a kind tone, “Do you have any clean clothes in your pack to change into?”

  Cassie looked up and said, “It’s all dirty, not that I have much with me. Gord only let me out of the house because I said I was going to the library and he was too wasted to move. If I’d been thinking straighter I’d have been better prepared when I left. The downtown missions only had a couple of things close to my size and no rain gear I didn’t swim in.”

  Frank frowned while he considered what to do. “All right.” He nodded then turned and walked quickly into the bedroom to dig into his suitcase. “Here,” he said as he returned. He tossed her a thick blue tee shirt nightgown with the face of Perry the Platypus with the price tags still attached. “I think you need this more than Jan does.”

  She caught it reflexively and watched while he searched the closet for the hotel’s complimentary bathrobe and draped it over one arm. He reached over and put a finger under her chin to raise her head and look into her blue-grey eyes. He almost recoiled from the wave of connection and the sense of completion that flowed over him as he touched her. He blinked to clear his head and began to speak.

  Cassie lost herself in the compassionate hazel eyes looking into hers. The rest of the world shrank to the gentle touch of Frank’s hand on her chin and the tender expression in his eyes. She found herself wanting to move closer to get a hug from him despite the instant of panic when he touched her. This close he seemed bigger and more solid – more comfortable – than he’d seemed in the elevator.

  She blinked and moved back a step to examine him. Frank was probably only five foot nine and maybe one sixty but he seemed much bigger, especially with his broad muscular shoulders. And he was far more attractive than her only almost-boyfriend from Grade 11. “… First,” was the only thing she heard as her attention finally was drawn to his words rather than his steady masculine presence.

  She shook her head to clear it. “I’m sorry, I zoned out. What were you saying?”

  “I was saying that you should probably warm up in the shower first then eat. Would you prefer ginger ale, Seven Up, orange juice or something hot?”

  “Ginger ale sounds yummy but I might make some tea if I’m still cold after the shower.”

  Frank felt her shiver and pushed the robe on her. “Go shower.”

  ———

  Frank gathered up his wallet and valuables while Cassie was in the shower and put everything except for his coins, three fifties and a few twenties into the small programmable safe. He had a bone deep feeling that he could trust her but there was no point in pushing it.

  He made a cup of decaf with the single serve coffee maker and sat to wait for Cassie to finish her shower. “I must be out of my flippin’ mind,” he muttered as he took the cold pizza from the fridge and put it on a plate to reheat in the microwave. Then he remembered the startling sense of connection he felt when he looked into her eyes and was almost convinced that Miss Cassie just Cassie was the missing piece in his life. He shook off the feeling and muttered, “That’s too ludicrous for words. She’s only seventeen.�
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  He took his coffee over to the desk by the window and opened his laptop so he could read the tricky part of his report again. He grimaced then sighed. There were too many players in the scheme to be able to describe in a few words. Maybe he could do a relationship chart instead. He started to plot it out on a blank sheet of 8½” by 11”, but it got too messy too quickly. He’d have to go to one of the office supply stores tomorrow and get some flip chart paper. He sighed and got up to pace again and became aware that the only bathroom was still in use.

  What was he going to do with Cassie? What happens to her after tonight? What would Bonnie tell him?

  He laughed quietly. Bonnie would say, ‘Stop being such a worry wart, Frank.’ Then she would recite the passage from Matthew chapter six that she’d started quoting at him since she’d been born again: ‘…seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.’

  He heard the shower go silent and snorted. “Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Well, he was certain that Miss Cassie just Cassie was trouble, but he had a strange feeling it would be a good kind of trouble.

  ———

  Cassie’s feet finally stopped hurting from the change in temperature. It was only thirteen degrees out tonight after almost two dry weeks above thirty but her body thought it was colder than that. It wasn’t supposed to get this cold in July but she supposed her chill had more to do with being soaked to the skin and not having enough to eat than the actual temperature.

  She dried herself with the thick towels marvelling at their softness. The nightgown was two sizes too big but it covered her and it was cozy warm. The oversized bathrobe added an extra layer of warmth and protection from Frank’s eyes.

  She wasn’t certain how she should feel about that. He’d seen her thin almost transparent white blouse plastered to her body. But unlike the other men tonight, he’d kept his eyes respectfully above her shoulders. And when he’d looked into her eyes it felt like she was home and safe and she wanted to get closer to him.

  As she scrubbed her threadbare undergarments in the sink, she heard a ding from a microwave and moments later became aware of the scents of warm tomato sauce, pineapple and cheese. With her stomach rumbling, she quickly set up the clothesline in the tub enclosure and hung her clothes to dry before digging out the toothbrush and toothpaste the street outreach worker gave her and setting them beside the sink. At the prompting of her stomach, she headed for the sitting area in the suite.

  The clock showed midnight as she sat down at the table. Frank excused himself to wash up and came back to see her carving her pizza into bite sized pieces with her knife and fork.

  “Thank you so much, Mr. Ellis.” She indicated the cheap takeout Hawaiian pizza. “This is very good. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. But call me Frank, please.”

  “Okay, … Frank.” She ate the last bite of the first slice with an unfeigned appreciation and began to slice into the second.

  Frank wondered at her grateful reaction to the mediocre pizza. “How long has it been since you’ve had a good meal?”

  Cassie paused to think. “Ten days, I think, since breakfast on Monday last week, before I told Gord I was going to the library to get some books. I’d still be trapped at home if he hadn’t been too drunk find his car keys. I can get an okay lunch most days at one of the soup kitchens but it’s pretty scary. I’ve picked up a couple of odd jobs here and there but the money didn’t go very far. Mostly I’ve been trying to hide from Gord and his buddies.” She ate the second slice of pizza very quickly but still carved it into small neat pieces.

  Frank nodded. “Maybe you should slow down a bit. I’ll make sure you get a good breakfast tomorrow morning.”

  With Frank’s words Cassie felt a sharp pain as her shrunken stomach received the latest mouthful of food. “Maybe you’re right.” She finished her ginger ale and carved another mouthful from the third slice. Pointing at the coffee maker she asked, “How does this work?”

  Frank smiled at her. “Pull up the silver bar, pop in the plastic cup of what you want, close it, put the mug underneath and push start.” He watched as she found a hot chocolate portion in the basket. “You have to put water in the reservoir if the blue LED is blinking.”

  “Neat.” Her smile was unfeigned. “Beats making a pot of coffee and throwing most of it away.” Her smile faded at some evidently unpleasant memory.

  Frank leaned forward. “I was going to ask all sorts of nosey questions and try to solve all of your problems tonight but I think we both need a good night’s sleep before we tackle anything.”

  Cassie started to say, “I’m not that…” but whatever the ending was, it was pre-empted by an enormous yawn and a rueful grin as she put the hot chocolate back in the basket.

  Frank echoed her yawn and said, “I’m not either, but we can let tomorrow’s troubles wait for tomorrow.” He pushed himself away from the table and went to the hall closet to pull out the extra blankets and put them on the end of the sofa bed. “Would you prefer the sofa cushions or should I pull out the bed for you?”

  “I think the sofa is good enough by itself. Sofa beds sometimes have that bar in the middle of your back.”

  “Then good night, Cassie. I’ll try not to wake you when I get up.”

  “Thank you so much for everything, Frank. Good night.” She gave him a grateful smile then yawned again before starting to arrange her blankets, surprisingly disappointed that she didn’t get a hug.

  Frank had to ruthlessly suppress an unexpectedly strong urge to walk over and kiss her goodnight. He stood there conflicted for a moment before saying, “Sleep well.” Then he headed for the bedroom and closed the door.