First up, the backstory of Tink, AKA Tabatha. One of the first few people to call the ranch a home. Born in Boston, Raised between the Midwest and New England This is the short story of how she ended up in California.

1996

“Mr. Giordano, I’m no idiot. I know what you do for a living. I know, but I don’t care.” The young child who looked like a boy but acted like a girl said from the older man’s front seat. Currently they drove in a newer Cadillac, headed for a meeting that Toby, who should have been Tabitha, had no clue about. But so many things made no sense about her. She didn't sound like a kid from Boston. Her accent was more of Midwest Standard. No real accent. Just a few slang words that popped up from time to time. This is how her father wanted it. No accent so no one could link her to him. No one could tell what part of the country she stayed in the most. She was riding with a man who used to have mod ties.

She knew the old man in the driver's seat had used to be a bad guy. After all, that was her father's old job. Get bad people and hide them until they were nice, or got caught out of their own stupidity. Currently though, the old man was still alive, but her father had died. Not by other bad guys, but from cancer.

“Toby, your Dad did some stuff for me. He protected me when I went into protection. Yes. I was a bad man, but I got out of that life.” The former mob man told him. “And he said to me to make sure that you’re taken care of.”

“I don’t want that. I want him back.” The young child replied.

They pulled into a bark parking lot and Mr. Giordano went drove around till they found themselves on the fifth floor. There was a van with one of the man from the government that Toby knew well. He had known Toy for years and was one of the few people to know that Toby was becoming a girl named Tabitha. Even more than that, he was one of the three people that called her by a nickname. Tinkerbell, or Tink for short.

“Tob….Tabitha, this is where we part ways. I must stress, don't look for me. Stay safe and stay away from me. Take this.” He handed her a blank envelope and a small shoe box.

“I don’t want it.” Tabitha said. “I want my Dad back. Not dead. And I don’t want your money.”

“Tabitha. There is something you don’t know because your Dad never said anything to you.”

“What?” She snapped back at him. “You were a bad guy and Dad died because of you.”

“Tabitha, your father was dying. All that leg work he did for me? The extra money, he was trying to stop the cancer. But he knew he was losing. Cancer is a hard thing to beat and I had nothing to do with it. So he wanted to get you a nest egg built up. That money was some of what he was saving for you. I got more of your cash, but not here. But its your money, to help with your change. I may not understand this change, but it is your money.” Mr. Giordano handed her an envelope. On in, in her father’s handwriting, was her female name. She tucked it and the box into her bag.

“Now let's get you out of here and to safety.” My. Giordano said to her as he shut off the car

They got out and went over to the man in the van. US. Marshal Joey O'Malley gave her a hug before helping her get into the van. After that he stayed outside the vehicle, making sure that that all was well. Tracks had to be covered, or this was for nothing. Papers had already been taken care of, giving the child the name Tabitha for real. It hadn't been her first choice.
She waited until she was in the van and moving out of the parking garage before she opened the letter.

Tabitha.

This letter will get to you after I have passed. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to do more, nor was I able to beat the cancer. I know I never told you about it, but I didn’t want you to worry over something neither of us could fix. The money Uncle G is giving you is from me. Also there is more. It is being put to good use until you’re old enough. When you’re old enough, the rest of the money will come, to help your change. I know this is little consolation and you’d rather have me, but be sure of this one thing. I am proud to be your father.

She closed the letter as the man in the van began driving out of the city. Out of the city that she had lived in for the past three years and into a whole new life. Tears slowly streaked down her cheeks as she thought of her father once more and how he would never be in her life again.

The trip took four days to get from one side of the country to the other. They had driven to avoid Tabitha being seen in an airport, not that many of the bad men who had known her father knew what she looked like, or that she was living as a girl, not a boy. Finally they pulled into a driveway at a small farmhouse in the mountains near Reno, but on the California side of the border. It was on some flat land, but way up in the mountains. It was the middle of summer, so the weather was warm and O'Malley had the air on in the van. He stopped the van and tapped her shoulder. “We’re here.”

“Okay.” Tabitha said as she undid her seat belt. “Whatever.” She mumbled after that, while opening her door.

The two of them got out and walked to the door of the farmhouse. Tabitha was starting to feel a bit nervous. She hated this. Being dropped off in the middle of nowhere. No one knew her here. And she knew no one. Tabitha had her pack on her back, a suitcase in each hand. O’Malley stopped at the door and pressed the doorbell.

After about a minute or two, the door opened up. A woman who was in her late twenties stepped out. She was dressed nicely and she looked over both the older man and young girl, then she asked. “Hello. Can I help you?”

“Hi there. I’m Joey O’Mally of the U.S. Marshal’s office. I called a week ago?”

Hope nodded. “Yes, I recall. Something about a new foster kid?”

Marshal O'Malley nodded and put a hand on Tabitha’s shoulder. “Can we go someplace private to speak?”

“To my office. Most of the kids are at school, so it’s not a worry.”

“The young girl outside is Tabitha Moretti. Though her family and friends call her Tink. Yes she is transgender, but more than that, she needs a safe place to live.” Marshal O'Malley said to Hope, as Tabitha sat outside the office, on a chair, looking at her feet.

“We house transgender kids, plus gay, lesbian and others. So safety isn’t a problem.”

“Maybe, maybe not. See, I can’t divulge much, other than the fact Tabitha’s father had worked for a part of the justice system. And even though he died, there are some who would view it as a win should they strike at him from beyond the grave and hurt Tabitha. We have already changed her first and last name, both her current one and her male persona. So that is one more smokescreen.”

“So she should still be safe, then?” Hope asked.

“Mrs. Rawlings, at this very moment, a car wreck is being investigated in Boston. Tabitha is one of those who will be listed, but in her real male name, of which I will not state. This is necessary. Some of the people her father crossed would do some low and despicable things if they find she is alive.””

Hope leaned back in her chair. “So you’re saying I’m getting a kid who has no record, and no ties to her old life. So my other kids won’t get harmed at all?”

“Correct.” The man from the Marshal’s office said.

“Then yes, we have a space for her here.” Hope replied.

The room was quiet. Other girls could be heard outside the room, but hers was small. Not size wise. It was huge, but the fact there were four beds stuffed into the room, that made it small. Currently the room was empty. All the kids were elsewhere, doing who knew what. This left Tabitha to look through her own stuff. Including the stuff given to her before the big move. O’Malley was gone already, no doubt heading back for the East coast.

She opened up the box that Mr. Giordano had given her. She gasped as the lid lifted and all she saw in it was green.

“Money?” She whispered. The box was full of bills, all twenties, all of them stacked nicely. And the box was full. On the top was a note.

T. This is just a sample of what your father had for you. There is more money in your name, but in an account you can’t touch until you hit eighteen. On this note is a way to contact me. Please don’t use it often. Stay safe and maybe I’ll see you before you need me.

G.

Tink shoved the money back into her suitcase as Hope walked in. The sudden movement got Hope’s attention. “Hello young lady. How are you doing?”

“Fine. Just lonely.” The girl replied.

“What was that? The ting you crammed in your pack?” hope pointed to her pack. “Nothing illegal I hope?”

“It’s stuff from my Dad.” Tink pulled the box back out and showed Hope the contents of the box.

Hope’s eyes went big. “Holy shit. That’s a lot of money.”

“My dad worked and saved it up. O'Malley said to not have a paper trail so bad guys can find me.”

Hope took in a deep breath, then let it out. “Tink, Tabitha, we can’t let you keep that in here.”

“Why not?”

“Well, first of all, there are four of you to be in here. Four people and not a lot of storage room.” Hope replied. “That much money, in a shoe box? Too easily stolen.”

Tink nodded at that, but looked up. “But it’s mine, so where can I put it?”

Hope thought about it for a moment, then she said. “Let me call that officer that brought you. Or maybe I’ll just keep it in a lock box.” She already had other shoe boxes holding important stuff for other kids. This would be like that, just worth more. “We’ll count it. I’ll place the majority in a locking box, in case someone can follow a sudden deposit of thousands of dollars. Then we’ll get a ledger. Each time you get cash, we’ll mark it down. That cool with you?”

“Yeah.” Tink said with a nod of her head.

“Maybe we can get a small bank account and slowly put money in it. Like one hundred every couple months.” Hope suggested. This was well out of her area of knowledge. She wasn’t used to housing kids who no longer existed on record.

It took two months of being there for Tink to feel at home. She knew there was no way her father was coming for her. She had no other family. Her mother had been abandoned as a baby and before Tabitha had been born, she cut all ties with her foster family. She knew O’Malley may not come that way, as to keep anyone watching him off the trail. Mr. G was gone and who knew to where. Tink knew it was all on her to make a new family. One she had control in building.

As Hope moved the children into the old Prison camp that was slowly being renovated, Tink was one of the first to grab a room. She was happy with her choice. Plus she had gotten some posters to put on the wall. Now this was more of a home than where she had lived with her father. There they barely unpacked, and never put things on the wall, in case they had to move in a hurry. At least here, Tink could feel that it could be a stable home. One she would not have to leave for a while.

So there is the first of the backstories. I'll return to the rest of the story, but for now I'd like to show how these people got to the ranch before I get into their daily lives