Chapter 9

9

L ogan woke up in a strange bed to a strange sensation.

He was being stared at.

He'd left his bedroom door propped open so that he could hear if Franzi got scared at night and called for him, even though he'd closed her door because fire safety had been drilled into him. She stood like a little shadow in his doorway now, with big, luminous eyes.

The sun was already starting to come up, streaming straight through the cheerful curtains, though Logan's clock said it was just before six in the morning. There were sounds in the barn below that indicated that Tabby was up and feeding the horses.

"Good morning," he said gently. "Did you sleep well?"

He certainly had.

The ranch was quiet compared to the apartment in Billings. No distant alarms or arguments had disturbed his sleep, there were no slamming doors or stomping feet from floors above to startle him awake. The horses below rattled their water buckets a few times, stamped and nickered, but the sounds were muffled. He woke a few times to listen for Franzi, but instinct lulled him back to sleep almost at once.

Franzi didn't answer, only continued to observe him quietly.

"Are you excited to see the day care today?" Logan asked. Was she scared? Did she think that he would leave her again so soon? What was going on behind those quiet eyes?

"I'm hungry."

Logan chuckled and threw off his blanket. He only had one set of sheets, which had gone on Franzi's bed. "Let's go make a special breakfast," he said. "I found a can of corned beef hash when we were moving."

There was no bread or eggs to have with it, but he did have a box of Saltines, and Franzi ate with relish, swinging her legs in the tall chair. He'd have to find a booster seat or a thick cushion, Logan thought. Fat telephone books weren't a thing anymore, like they'd been when he was a kid.

"Can I have milk?" Franzi asked.

That was another thing Logan would have to see about getting. "I'll go shopping today," he promised.

It was much later than he wanted to leave when they were finally ready; he continued to underestimate how long it took Franzi to do anything. Getting dressed was agonizingly slow. Going to the bathroom took so long he wondered if he should go in after her. Brushing her hair caused so much crying and distress that he gave up before it was properly finished, sure he was doing it wrong.

He picked her up on one hip and carried her down the stairs rather than wait for her to take each step one by one, and buckled her into the rain-washed truck .

The Montana spring morning smelled amazing, and Logan rolled the windows down as they drove to Nickel City.

It was easy to find the day care on a touristy little street just a block from what passed as downtown. It looked like a gold rush saloon, and the windows in front were covered in translucent tissue paper. It was harder to find parking, and then Franzi wanted to dawdle, so Logan was pressing the button at the locked front door much later than he'd hoped to be, nearly at noon.

"Tiny Paws, how can I help you?"

"Logan Kennedy," he said into the box. "I'm here with my niece, Franzi." Should he apologize for running late? It was still a few minutes to noon. Franzi was tugging at his hand because she wanted to touch a tree that was just out of reach but Logan kept a grip on her. The last thing he needed was to have her run out in traffic.

"Come on in, Mr. Kennedy." The door gave a welcoming little burble as it unlocked, and Logan pushed it open.

There was a long narrow entryway the length of the building front, crowded with cubbies and benches. Dozens of miniature rain boots and sneakers marched along the space, and a cartoon of a bear with weirdly human toes asked everyone to take off their footwear. The sounds of children talking and playing were a background drone.

"Let's take off our shoes," Logan said, sitting on the bench. It was short and narrow, definitely sized for children.

Franzi shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself. Logan's heart sank. He didn't want to have an argument in the lobby of the day care. He was still figuring out how far to push Franzi, and how to balance making her do stuff with letting her have some autonomy. For the most part, he let her have her way, because he didn't want to be a horrible new authoritarian in her life.

"I'm taking off my boots," he said, making a show of wrestling the first one off. "I hope my socks aren't stinky!"

Franzi giggled at that.

"Here comes the other boot!" Logan said cheerfully. "Whew! It feels nice to wiggle my toes! Now it's your turn!"

Franzi's little smile froze into a grimace. "No."

Logan cast desperately for some kind of leverage, then leaned forward. "It's because you don't have toes, isn't it!"

Franzi's brow furrowed in confusion.

Logan nodded sagely. "You don't want anyone to know you don't have toes."

"I have toes!" Franzi protested.

"Prove it!"

Franzi stared at him, then heaved a sigh and plopped bonelessly down on the floor to pull off her sneakers and wiggle her toes at him.

"You do have toes!" Logan exclaimed. "Wow! How many do you have?"

Franzi giggled, then sobered and Logan realized that someone was watching them from the end of the entryway, where a baby gate separated them from another room.

It was an older woman who had clearly witnessed their entire exchange, based on her broad grin. She had blue-tipped, gray-streaked pony-tails and a pleasant round face that showed lines of humor and patience.

But she wasn't a shifter.

Logan had a stab of alarm and dismay. Was he wrong about this place? Could he trust Franzi in a day care for ordinary children? All of his plans suddenly seemed very precarious and he was surprised at the depth of his worry. He'd never bothered having plans before, and it was unsettling how much he wanted them to work out.

"You must be Mr. Kennedy," the woman said as Logan stood up and herded a reluctant Franzi towards her. She extended a hand that Logan shook firmly. There was still no tingle of shifter recognition.

Would you stop freaking out? his stallion scoffed. Everything is fine.

"This is my niece, Franzi—Frances Kennedy." November 13, Logan reminded himself. Her birthday was November 13. What else was he supposed to know about her? He wished he'd thought to bring all the paperwork from child services.

The woman smiled warmly down and offered Franzi her hand. "Hi Franzi. I'm Cherry."

Franzi gave her the most reluctant hand shake that Logan had ever witnessed and then went to hide behind Logan.

Cherry didn't seem bothered by her shyness, but she also didn't step aside to invite them into the day care. "Do you like painting, Franzi?"

Franzi nodded against the back of Logan's leg. Logan made a note to see if he could pick up some paints when he got milk and eggs and whatever else you fed children.

Another woman in a rainbow skirt appeared in the entrance behind Cherry and relief flooded through Logan. She was definitely a shifter, and the toddler that she held was also. She and Cherry traded approving nods and Cherry opened the gate.

"I'm Addison," the rainbow-skirted woman said. Her hands were too busy with the squirming toddler to shake. "Come on in! "

Logan didn't know what to expect from an ordinary day care, let alone one for shifters, and he was momentarily overwhelmed.

There were children everywhere, crawling, careening, and perched on the low furniture around the open room. Everything was bright and loud, reflected in tall mirrors that must be left over from a time when the place was a bar. There were short bookcases crowded with toys and books, lumpy beanbags, colorful carpets, and a row of cages holding class pets.

It all smelled faintly like bleach, glue, sawdust, and baby powder.

Logan's senses prickled. Not all of the children were shifters, but most of them were, and it was downright uncanny to be in a room with so many of them. Outside of his immediate family, it was rare to run into more than one at a time.

He also towered above everyone in the room. It was like being a giant.

Franzi clutched at his knees, staring around in wonder.

"We're about to have lunch," Cherry said. "Would Franzi like to join us and then we can go over our paperwork?"

"I'm hungry," Franzi said shyly.

Addison managed to speak over the din of the children without sounding like she was shouting. "Time to eat, everyone! Put your toys in time out and get your lunch bags!"

The chaos of the room changed in tenor. Some of the kids protested the change of activity and some of them shrieked in excitement and ran for their cubbies. A baby cried, and one of the children tripped over onto their face. They bounced back up without complaint .

"I didn't think to pack her a lunch," Logan said, chagrined. How was there so much that he didn't know?

"We've got a few emergency meals for kids in case they forget them," Cherry said. "Does she have any food allergies?"

"I hope not," Logan said, then wondered if that betrayed his sheer ignorance. Surely Mrs. Gravis would have warned him about them? He laughed so it would look like a joke.

"Have a seat anywhere," Cherry invited.

The tables and chairs were toddler short. With effort, Logan persuaded Franzi to let go of his legs and sit in one of the chairs, and pulled up his own beside her. Cherry brought her a lunch pack of cheese, meat, and crackers, as well as a Mandarin orange and a cup of water.

Franzi was the subject of curiosity and stares, but she refused to look at anyone else as she ate. Every time Logan tried to shift his weight in the uncomfortably tiny chair, she looked at him in panic. Was this a terrible idea? Would she be horribly unhappy here?

Logan tried to make conversation. "That looks yummy," he said. "Are you going to stack the cheese on top of the cracker?" He peeled the mandarin for her.

Then a girl about Franzi's age took a shy seat opposite from her. She had shoulder-length straight black hair and Asian features, and wore a ruffled pink shirt with a sequined unicorn on it. She didn't say a word, but after a few silent bites of her bagged lunch, she offered a raisin across the table.

Franzi glanced at Logan doubtfully and he smiled encouragingly. She accepted the raisin with a mumbled thank you. After a few quiet bites, she offered a segment of her orange in return, all without ever making eye contact .

The classroom didn't quiet much with the meal, and Logan watched several minor disasters unfold; one of the boys tipped an entire pitcher of water over, and a baby in a high chair shifted into a baby owl and slid out of one of the leg holes. She was quickly recaptured, dressed, and returned to the chair.

"Fingers and feet," Addison reminded the girl, refilling her tray with cereal. "Fingers and feet!"

Franzi forgot to eat, watching this happen. "Not SUPOZE to be a horsey," she murmured.

"You can be here," Logan said.

The girl across the table was staring at Franzi with big eyes. "Are you a horse?"

Franzi was surprised into looking straight at her. She didn't answer, but nodded slowly, and was rewarded with a slow smile.

"I'm a unicorn ," the little girl said proudly, to Logan's surprise. "A Chinese unicorn. I can fly !"

Franzi stared and forgot to be bashful. "Can you show me?"

"We have to eat before we can play in the yard," the girl told her solemnly, and both of them fell on the remainder of their food.

"I have never seen Tara eat that fast before," Addison said to Logan as he helped wipe the crumbs up off the table. Franzi didn't seem to even remember that he was there as the girl took her by the hand and led her out the back of the classroom. "Cherry's in her office with your paperwork!"

Cherry's office was small and tidy, but the chair across from her desk was comfortably adult-sized. She handed Logan several forms and a rate sheet that made him gulp. He'd been living frugally since he parted ways with Clancy, but he didn't have enough to cover this for long. He hoped that the mechanic hired him, because even with free rent, he was going to run out of funds in a month or two.

"I understand that you are Franzi's uncle," Cherry said, inviting Logan to explain.

"I'm her legal guardian," Logan assured her. For now.

Cherry paused, but didn't pry when Logan didn't volunteer more. "Your registration is month-to-month, payment in advance. If she won't be attending, we request that you check in as a courtesy, but there's no prorate for days that you miss. She needs to bring a bottle of water, snacks and a bagged lunch each day. Nothing that needs to be microwaved, please. We ask that personal toys be left in her cubby so they don't get mixed up. We also ask that you have two changes of clothes here, we have a higher rate of attrition than most day cares."

Logan chuckled. "I imagine so."

"Is she potty trained?"

Logan nodded.

"Can she shift with her clothing?"

"Apparently." Logan knew he wasn't making a great impression. He was trying to fill out forms at the same time. How much did Franzi weigh? Less than a fifty-pound sack of concrete but more than a twenty-pound turkey. How tall was she? More than a yardstick?

"How long has Franzi been with you?"

"Five days," Logan said, suddenly overwhelmed. "Five of the longest days of my life."

Logan realized that his hands were clenching over the forms when Cherry reached over her desk and kindly patted them. "No parent in the history of the world has ever thought that they were truly prepared. You're doing fine. "

"Do you have kids?" Maybe her kids were shifters, which would explain why she'd started a day care for them.

But Cherry shook her head and Logan thought that her understanding smile took a little hint of grief.

Logan wasn't going to pry. He knew what it was like to have secrets.