Starting Over in Texas

by Jessica Keller

  Patrick thrust his hand out to Boone. “You sure don’t look like Rhett. He’s taller.” The man laughed and held his other hand higher than Boone’s head.

  “That he is.” Boone shook the man’s hand. “I’m Boone. Rhett’s other brother.”

  “Wade did tell me Rhett wouldn’t be able to make it today. He said you’d be able to explain.”

  Violet had bypassed them to bend down on one knee so she could welcome Howard. She had his hand cupped in both of hers and was listening intently to whatever the boy was telling her. She smiled warmly and nodded the whole time. By her expression no one would have known that her knee was shoved into the hard, white rocks that surrounded the kennel area. She encouraged Howard to pat the edge of his armrest, which signaled for Ryker to place his front paws on Howard’s lap. The boy hugged the dog around the neck, a grin taking over his face as he did so.

  Boone watched the exchange while he told Patrick what was going on with Silas. Rhett had texted Boone earlier, asking him to let the man know. Boone was certain that having to answer questions and field calls was probably already draining for Rhett and Macy. Boone had been overwhelmed by the bombardment of people reaching out to him after June’s sudden death, and while he had appreciated knowing that people cared, sometimes he’d had to turn his phone off just to be able to make it through the day. Each call had been a reminder of his pain; each talk had wrung his emotions.

  Patrick frowned and gasped twice while Boone relayed the facts about Silas’s health condition. When Boone was done, Patrick put his hands up. “That sounds very serious. Now, I don’t know if you know this but I own the three Chick-N-Mores in the area. And my nearest location is my highest-grossing one as well.”

  Boone hadn’t known Patrick owned Chick-N-More restaurants but he did know he would give anything for one of their breaded chicken sandwiches smothered in creamy jalapeno sauce right that moment. His stomach grumbled. Skipping breakfast and delaying lunch would do that, though.

  Violet showed Howard another command for Ryker. Boone didn’t believe Howard’s smile could possibly get any bigger. No wonder Rhett loved doing this. Violet seemed to have a knack for it, too.

  “I host a monthly Give Back night where a portion of the proceeds go to an organization or someone in need. I have an opening for the beginning of July and I’d love to dedicate that night to helping Rhett’s family.” Patrick glanced over at his son and a warm, loving smile lit his features. “I know what it’s like to spend months living at a hotel so you can be near a hospital for your child. The expenses add up quickly. When Howard went through it, they didn’t even let us go on the transplant list until we could pony up twenty percent of the cost.” He whistled long and low. “And within the transplant community, I’ve heard heart transplants are the most expensive of all. So I’d love to help.”

  Patrick was correct. Boone had spoken to Rhett just that morning about the costs involved. Rhett and Macy had drained their bank accounts to get Silas placed on the transplant list. Heart transplants often ended up costing over a million dollars, so twenty percent of that hurt quite a bit.

  “That would be amazing,” Boone said. “I think Rhett and Macy would really appreciate it.” He would run it by them before completely confirming the event, but Boone was certain they would be okay with anything people wanted to do to support them.

  “Red Dog Ranch has helped so many people over the years.” Patrick looked out over the pastures. “It’s only right for the community to band around y’all.”

  Violet appeared at Boone’s side. “Would you need us to do anything for the event?”

  Patrick traced his fingers over his mustache. “Get the word out. Make flyers and drum up attention on social media. The more people who attend, the more proceeds are available to help with their expenses. It would also be fun if both of you came to help serve meals if you could. People always enjoy that sort of thing—makes it more personal. I’d even give you official Chick-N-More swag to wear.”

  Boone looked to Violet, who nodded excitedly. “It all sounds great. Let me talk to Rhett about it and I’ll give you a call.” Boone entered Patrick’s number into his phone while Violet hugged Howard and Ryker goodbye.

  A few minutes later when they trudged back up the hill, Boone’s conscience kept bugging him. Despite their initial meeting, Violet seemed to be a good person and he had been evasive with her earlier. That wasn’t how Boone wanted to live his life or act with people. Finally, he sighed and caught Violet’s arm. “I wasn’t truthful earlier. When you asked me about church.”

  She narrowed her eyes a bit. “Boone, we hardly know each other. You don’t owe me an explanation or an answer to any questions I ask.”

  “Listen.” Boone rubbed his forehead. “I believe in being honest. It’ll bother me if I don’t come clean.”

  She had a faint smile, as if he amused her. Maybe he did. “Okay.”

  “Since June’s funeral, I haven’t been to church much. I feel bad not going. Guilty. But I just—I just can’t yet.” He was rambling and he wasn’t even prone to rambling. Usually he spoke with such measured words and didn’t mind silence. He normally waited to speak until he had the perfect, most impactful thing to say. But his words tripped out anyway. “I’m still a Christian and I believe in God and love Him and maybe I’m just making a bunch of excuses, but that’s what’s going on. That, and the church here in Stillwater is where I grew up going and June’s parents are there and it’s a lot, you know?”

  “I completely get it.” She squeezed his arm. “If it makes you feel better, I rarely get to attend church while I’m on circuit.” She shrugged. “I’m in a new town every weekend and it’s not as if there’s a rodeo church.” Violet chuckled. “But a few of the other athletes are believers and sometimes we’ll meet somewhere or go for a hike together while we listen to an online sermon. Other times we just sit together over coffee on a Sunday morning and talk about what we’ve been reading in the Bible lately. We try to have some sort of community when we can.”

  She tilted her head, almost as if she was deciding whether she should say something else. “God lives here.” She tapped his heart with a finger. “Not in a building.” She quickly pulled her hand back from his chest and looked away. “I learned that at Camp Firefly.”

  Suddenly, Boone’s eyes burned, but he chided the emotions away. After all, he had been training to be a minster. A little Sunday school message about God not being confined to a church building shouldn’t bring tears to his eyes.

  Boone cleared his throat. “Speaking of camp, I have to lead sermons all week for the campers.” Boone grimaced a little. Not because he was against leading sermons—he was in the process of getting his master of divinity degree, after all—but knowing he would be leading a small church this week made him feel even guiltier for skipping out on services that morning. Though Violet was right. God didn’t need Boone to enter a building to be with him, He already was.

  Violet clapped her hands. “You’ll figure it out. I don’t have faith in many things, but I have faith in you, Boone. You Jarretts never let others down.”

  Her encouragement warmed him. “Will you be at chapel tonight?” He rocked forward. “You can give me a score on a one to ten scale when we’re done.” He winked, trying to make light of their conversation but secretly hoping she would say yes.

  I have faith in you, Boone.

  Violet chewed her bottom lip while she stared at the little chapel that shared the hill with the mess hall. She was taking so long to consider his question Boone almost broke in and asked her if she was okay.

  Violet sighed and took her eyes off the chapel. “I can come tonight. Not the last night. The night the campers write on the white rocks.” She hugged her middle and didn’t meet his gaze. “I can’t come to that night but this one should be fine.”

  Boone inched closer. “Violet? Is something wrong?”

&nbs
p; “Not at all.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled. “Let’s grab some food while it’s still warm.” And she headed up the hill, away from him.

  Boone couldn’t help but notice that her smile seemed forced.

  Chapter Three

  While a group of musically inclined staff members led the song time at the start of the evening chapel service for the campers, Violet met with one counselor from every cabin to answer questions and address any concerns they already had. There were two counselors assigned to each cabin, so one stayed with the campers while the other attended meetings.

  From personal experience, she knew that many of the campers had gone through trauma of some kind in their life so she stressed to the counselors that they had a team of volunteer licensed therapists on call at all hours when camp was in session. If a child needed to work through issues that the college staff didn’t feel equipped to deal with, Red Dog Ranch provided other resources and help.

  “Our mission is to make sure every kid at camp this week feels heard, valued and loved.” She scanned the group of nine counselors, making sure to meet each of their eyes. “Come see me if you or a camper needs anything. At any time.”

  A young man with bright red hair raised his hand. “Is it true you were a foster kid like one of our campers?”

  Violet nodded. “I attended Camp Firefly for ten years.” It was only natural for them to be curious. Many of the college staff members were students majoring in psychology, Christian ministry or outdoor education who were receiving class credit or fulfilling their internship requirements by working at the ranch with the kids over the summer. A handful of them were individuals who had grown up attending the camp, but most weren’t.

  The young man eyed Violet in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. His gaze started at her feet and moved up slowly. “Well, looks to me you turned out just fine.” He smirked. “I mean, you are like a quasi-famous person for something with horses, aren’t you?”

  “The only thing you need to know about me is that this week I’m your boss.” Violet stood, pulling her clipboard to her chest as she did. “Meeting’s over. Make sure to sit with your campers at chapel, not with other staff members.”

  She brushed off her jeans and let them all file into the chapel while she waited outside.

  A couple of bats flitted in and out of the light pooling from the flood lamps that hung around the camp area of the ranch. No doubt some of the many Mexican free-tailed bats that called the Texas Hill Country their home. The little creatures were known to eat excessive amounts of moths and other bugs so Violet had never minded them. Watching them arc and weave in the air helped calm her the same way staring up at a ceiling fan always had. She dragged in a breath, held it for a beat and then released it slowly.

  Why had she agreed to come tonight?

  For Boone. Violet swallowed hard. She had been so ready to dislike the man who had abandoned his daughter for eight weeks at the ranch. She still had a problem with him doing that, but she knew there was more to Boone than that mistake. And the sincerity in Boone’s eyes when he asked if she would attend tonight... She hadn’t been able to say no.

  So far during the other weeks of camp that summer Violet had been able to steer clear of the chapel. Rhett hadn’t required her attendance and her assistance hadn’t ever been needed there.

  Violet blew a wisp of hair from her eyes. Settle down. She was turning this into something much bigger than it was. She had stepped into plenty of churches in the last four years without adverse reactions.

  But none of those places had ever broken her heart.

  She rubbed her arm, wishing she had remembered to grab a zip-up before leaving her bunkhouse. It might have been summer in Texas, but sometimes it really cooled off once the sun went down.

  She was about to go inside when she spotted Boone heading toward the chapel from the mess hall. He had a mug in one hand as he cut across the expanse between the two buildings.

  “Hurry up,” Violet called to him with a teasing lilt in her voice. “How are we supposed to start chapel without our speaker?”

  His rich, warm laugh filled the evening air. “The great thing about being the speaker is they can’t start the message without you.” He winked as he got closer. “Besides, Drew’s running through announcements and stressing the no-sneaking-out rule first. And you and I both know how much that man can talk.” He jerked his chin toward the windows on the chapel doors. Drew had worked as a counselor at Camp Firefly for the last three years so this summer he had been given the position of assistant program director—which basically meant he was the face of camp to the campers and was with them running the games and events all day to free up Boone and Violet so they could handle other obligations.

  Boone came up next to her and ducked slightly to look her in the eye. “How’d the meeting go?”

  “Fine, but there’s a counselor I think you should pull aside and have a talk with.” She clung to her clipboard. “I haven’t learned all their names yet, but he’s the one with red hair.”

  “I know what cabin he’s in.” Boone took a sip from his mug. “What did he do?”

  Violet gave him the word-for-word rundown. “And I would have written off the exchange but he was leering the whole time. It made my warning signals go off.” Being in the rodeo meant she had learned to live and work in a male-dominated space. Given that, over the years she had begun to trust her gut when she got a strange or uncomfortable read on a man.

  Boone worked his jaw back and forth. “I’ll absolutely be talking to him tonight. No one should be treating you like that and him acting in such a bold way to someone in authority isn’t a good sign. He’s a role model and he should be acting like one even when the campers aren’t present.”

  Violet let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Some men would have brushed off her concerns, but she was quickly learning that Boone wasn’t the average guy.

  Violet shrugged. “I’m twenty-two so, I mean, I get that I’m close to their age but—”

  “Wait.” Boone’s eyes went wide. “You’re twenty-two?” He whistled long and low. “Man, I feel old.” One hoarse laugh escaped from his lips. “I had a newborn when I was your age.” He scrubbed his hand down the back of his neck, then he motioned toward the door. “I guess I better hobble on in,” he joked. “It’s about time for the message.”

  Violet held the door open but shooed him forward when he tried to wait for her. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  When he was inside, she set her hand on the building’s siding and took a deep breath. She couldn’t have cared less that the guy had called her “quasi-famous.” For Violet, her barrel racing career had never been about gaining renown. All she had wanted was someone, anyone, to tell her that they saw worth in her. She had thought she might achieve that by winning in the rodeos. That someone would take notice and care. Would say she was worth loving.

  But no one ever had.

  She was beginning to wonder if anyone ever would.

  Boone had said by the time he was her age he had been married with a kid. He had been surrounded by love and on his way to making something of himself. What did Violet have to show for all her years on earth? Some awards in an event that 98 percent of the world didn’t know or care about. Big whoop.

  For twelve years in the foster care system no one had wanted Violet. Not one family she had lived with had seen something special enough about her to want to adopt her. Since aging out, Violet had spent the last four years trying to prove that every foster parent who hadn’t adopted her had made a mistake.

  None of it seemed to matter.

  Maybe they had all been right not to want her after all.

  * * *

  Violet finally made it inside and found a seat in the back.

  The small chapel had pews and stained glass windows. The junior high students who made up this week�
��s campers fidgeted in their seats. A teen girl with tight, dark curls batted her eyes at an oblivious boy a few seats away.

  Violet rolled one of the papers on her clipboard up and let it slowly unfurl on her lap. She did it again. Memories echoed in her mind. Three rows forward and to the left was the place where Violet had first prayed to ask Jesus to be a part of her life when she was ten. Toward the front was where she and her best friend, Bella, used to sit together. At least, they had until the summer Bella stopped attending because she had been adopted. Despite their childhood promises to remain best friends forever, Violet had never heard from Bella again. One more broken promise. Violet could measure her life in losses—know what age she had been in a memory based on when the person had exited her life. It was a sad realization.

  Boone took the stage and introduced himself. “We’re going to have a lot of fun this week and I’m looking forward to that. But right here, in this place—” he pointed down to indicate the chapel “—this is the most important part of camp. Because this is where we come to learn about God. He’s the reason we’re here—the very reason this ranch exists. So why don’t we dive right in?”

  Violet shifted in her seat. She didn’t recall the pews being quite this uncomfortable. Then again, she was much younger back then. Zeroing her attention in on Boone, Violet felt the hint of a smile creep onto her face and a bit of her anxiety ebbed for a second. He had joked about being an old man but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Only six years separated them, and Violet always felt as if they were on equal footing when they spent time together or talked. Besides, with his impressive arms and wide shoulder span, Boone was in better shape than most of the guys her age.

  Boone walked across the stage, the picture of ease. “Think with me about a time when you made something and it was really cool. It could be a batch of mouthwatering cookies, an art project you worked hard on, maybe a story you wrote or a dance you made up. Like all those amazing things you created, did you know that the Bible says that we are God’s workmanship? That means you.” He pointed into the crowd. “And you, and you, and me.” He laid his hand on his chest. “Each one of us is His workmanship.”