Starting Over in Texas

by Jessica Keller

  Violet rubbed her palms back and forth on her jean-clad thighs. She had a feeling she knew where he was going with his talk and didn’t know if she could stay for it. In her youth, she had heard similar messages and they had proved to be wrong. Lies. At least in her life. They had only served to get her hopes flying high and when she crashed down, her beliefs had ended up in a thousand jagged pieces.

  With no one in her life to put them—or her—back together.

  Her trust in God was shaky at best right now and she didn’t want anything to jeopardize that. Then again, she had promised Boone she would be at his message.

  Boone paused at the center of the stage. “But what does workmanship mean, exactly? The Bible was originally written in another language and the word they translated workmanship from was poiema. Anyone want to repeat that with me?” He scanned the room as teenagers ducked in their chairs. “No takers?” He grinned.

  A couple junior high students chuckled.

  Boone nodded encouragingly. “It sounds strange, I know. But it’s a neat word because it’s the same one we use to get our words poem and poetry. So if we replace the word workmanship, listen to this: you are God’s poetry.” Boone spread his hands to encompass the crowd. “You are His masterpiece. His work of art. Think of all the art kept in museums all over the world. We keep it there because people consider those pieces priceless. We put those art pieces in museums because the world has decided that art is valuable and beautiful. That it has worth and should be protected.”

  Violet’s chest felt tight. She glanced toward the doors to make sure she had a clear pathway to the exit.

  Boone stepped off the stage and leaned in toward the crowd. He dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “The greatest Van Gogh has nothing on you. You are a custom design by the greatest creator there ever was. Priceless. Wanted. Loved. And cherished. His workmanship. His poetry walking on earth.”

  Violet swallowed but she couldn’t get past the burning sensation coating her throat. These kids were all those things, but she wasn’t. No one wanted Violet Byrd. Not when she had been a lonely child. Not now when she was a championship racer. Her life, her existence, wasn’t poetry. She was someone to be tolerated, not celebrated.

  She had never been worthy.

  Violet sucked in a rattling breath. A boy seated in front of her glanced in her direction.

  Boone dropped down to sit on the steps leading up to the stage so he was eye level with the campers. “That’s all great to hear, but it’s certainly difficult to feel as if we’re that valuable sometimes, isn’t it? Things happen in our lives and people fail us. They make us feel like maybe we’re not enough. Maybe we’re not wanted. Maybe we’re even unlovable.”

  A camper in front of Violet sniffled loudly and swiped at her eyes.

  “But as a workmanship of God’s hands you are valuable, beautiful and loved. And no person or circumstance can take that away from you. Because to the Father you are worth the Son, and to the Son you are worth His life. Let the power of that statement sink in.” He took a moment to scan the room. “You are God’s poetry on earth.”

  She couldn’t listen to any more.

  Violet burst from her seat, causing a few campers to glance her way. She forced a smile, hoping they would write off her exit as her going about her work.

  Then she fled the building and didn’t look back.

  * * *

  Boone charged down the hill. At this speed if the toe of his boot found a rock or a burrow, he would topple head over feet to the bottom. But he didn’t care. He had noticed Violet’s reaction to his sermon and it had twisted his heart. She had gone from anxious to ashen in minutes. Paired with her early hesitancy to even attend the chapel service, Boone knew the issue went deeper than she wanted to let on.

  While he preached, he had started praying for Violet as well as the others in the audience. Whenever he gave a sermon, Boone always prayed that God would use his words, but this felt different. As wild as it sounded in his mind, this felt personal.

  He had closed the service with a prayer and then handed the campers over to Drew before hightailing it after Violet. Still, she had gotten a good lead time on him and she might be tucked in her bunkhouse by now. If she was, he wouldn’t disturb her. He would look around before that, though. Knowing how much she loved her horse, Boone checked the barn first but she wasn’t in there. He went by the office next and then walked some of the property. He was about to give up when he spotted a lone figure sitting at the end of the dock.

  The largest lake at Red Dog Ranch was located right behind the row of staff bunkhouses. The home Boone had been staying in was just off the shore and Violet’s was a few buildings down. A docking pier stretched into the water and widened at the end. Violet dangled her feet over the edge.

  The pier groaned with his footsteps but she didn’t look his way. Boone came to a stop off to her side and a little back. “Is it okay if I join you?”

  She motioned for him to go ahead and sit.

  He took the spot next to her, but left some space between them. A few minutes passed. Boone decided he would wait awhile before saying something.

  She stared blankly ahead. “They didn’t want me.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “When my parents died.” She turned her head toward him and the tears he saw there tore at his heart. “I had family left. An aunt and an uncle. My parents named them in their will.” She grimaced with the effort it took not to start crying again. “But they didn’t want me.”

  “Violet,” Boone said, his voice as quiet and calm as he could manage.

  “I wasn’t good enough.” She scrubbed at her nose. “You know?”

  “That’s not true.”

  She looked up as she shook her head. “And then I came here and you people filled my head with these dreams and hopes.” She pressed her fingertips to her head. “You people told me God loved me and wanted good for me and that I could trust Him with the deepest desires of my heart.” Violet turned her stare on him and there was a hollow pain that left Boone feeling raw. “You said He cared. You had me spill my heart onto one of those rocks—put my greatest hope out there, and for what? For God to not want me either?” She swiped at her eyes. “Because that’s sure what it feels like.”

  Boone reached for her and pulled her head protectively against his chest. She instantaneously fisted her fingers into the fabric on his sleeve and held on for what felt like dear life. He ran his hand over her hair and rocked a little, letting her cry. Letting her get it out. Just being there because so often words didn’t heal the type of pain Violet had.

  At the end of each week of camp they always had campers write the thing they were trusting God for on a rock and leave it at the foot of the cross near the chapel. That was what Violet must have been referring to. Whatever she had trusted God for, it clearly hadn’t gone as she had hoped. Sometimes God’s answer was no. Even to the heart of a child. But tonight wasn’t the time to wade into that difficult discussion with her.

  “One of my foster moms taught me how to barrel race,” she whispered into his chest. “That’s how I learned. I thought...if I won and she was proud... I thought...” Her body trembled.

  Boone brushed her hair back into place. The strands kept clinging to the stubble on his jaw. “You thought they would adopt you and they didn’t.”

  She nodded against him. “I aged out and had to leave.”

  “I’m so sorry, Violet,” he whispered. “I’m sorry for everything.”

  She slipped out of his arms and hugged her middle. “I’ve asked myself a million times what’s wrong with me. Something has to be. There has to be a reason no one wants me.”

  Boone fought the urge to pull her into his arms again. But he couldn’t hug her pain away and he hadn’t earned the right in her life to attempt such a thing, either. Nothing about him could chase away the lies she believed. Only God could do that for
her.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He spoke gently. “Just like I said back there—you are a priceless masterpiece and God—”

  She shot to her feet. “It’s so easy for you to spew that stuff, isn’t it? It’s easy to talk about being loved and wanted when you have never felt devalued or unworthy a day of your life.”

  Taken aback by the swift change in her tone, Boone was slow to rise to his feet. “Violet.”

  “You’re telling them lies, Boone.” She flung an arm in the direction of the chapel. “Don’t you get that? You’re causing foster kids further pain by spooning a bunch of sugary ideas their way. You shove dreams into their heads and promise they’ll come true and aren’t there to deal with the fallout when those dreams never happen.”

  Boone held up his hands in surrender. “That’s not fair.”

  “Know what’s not fair?” Violet whirled to face him again. “You have a family that has always loved you, always supported you, always wanted you. You have no idea what this feels like.” She jabbed a finger at him. “You have a daughter out there who adores you and you still haven’t moved her to your bunkhouse—you’re still not the one taking care of her. That’s what’s not fair. So don’t preach your platitudes to me, minister. Because I don’t want them.”

  Violet sidestepped his outstretched hand and didn’t look back any of the times he called her name.

  Chapter Four

  Violet was on her way to the office when Hailey bounded out of the bunkhouse situated closest to the lake. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the onslaught of the afternoon sun as she called out a greeting to the little girl.

  After spending the morning doing physical therapy on both herself and Hawken, Violet had stopped back at the staff house assigned to her so she could clean up and change before heading to the office for the rest of the day. Not that she would admit to it, but she had spent a few extra minutes in front of the mirror, anxious over the prospect of seeing Boone again. She had been able to avoid encountering him in person for a few days as he got settled, and then he and Hailey had traveled to Houston to visit Rhett and Macy and meet Silas. He had kept up with Violet about the ranch and helped make decisions regarding Camp Firefly over the phone, but Wade had let her know Boone would be back in the office today.

  She wanted to be sure she looked confident and poised—much different from the mess he had held in his arms and tried to comfort a few nights ago. Falling apart in front of Boone...that hadn’t been her style. She needed to get back on track.

  The cowboys on the rodeo circuit had nicknamed her the Vault because she never shared, never hinted at what was going on in her head and never let it show when her contenders got the best of her. They had respected her and considered her a strong woman because of it.

  The Vault. Violet snorted. If those cowboys could see her now.

  So far, she had behaved more like a colander. At least around Boone. Ever since she had discovered that he left Hailey at the ranch for eight weeks, the memories of being abandoned at the same age had come back to bite at the veneer of self-assurance she had long ago learned to wear. And the emotions associated with remembering were leaving her raw. However, it would do no one—least of all her—any good to pull her hurt out only to turn it over and over in her hand like a broken trinket. It was time to be an adult and pack all her baggage away.

  Boone was back. It was a fresh start.

  She would be the Vault once more.

  Hailey hop-danced into Violet’s path, the girl’s long honey-blond hair swaying with each movement. “Want to hear something cool? You’ll never guess. Want to hear it?”

  Violet stopped and bent to meet the little girl’s eyes. “Do I want to hear about it? Are you kidding me, squirt?” She would always stop whatever she was doing to be interested in what mattered to Hailey because she knew how much that would have meant to her at that age. “Of course I want to hear whatever you’re excited about.”

  “I got to move in with Daddy,” Hailey said. “Last night when we got home, he moved the rest of my stuff here from Uncle Wade’s house.”

  Violet glanced toward the bunkhouse. Had Boone already been planning on moving Hailey or had her harsh words the other night prompted his actions? Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that Hailey was with her dad again. Where she belonged. Violet hoped they had been able to bond a lot on their trip to see Silas.

  “How do you feel about leaving Wade’s house?”

  “Really good. I love my dad.” Hailey bobbed her head. “It’s a tiny bit sad not to be in Piper’s room with her.” She held up her fingers showing an inch of space between her thumb and pointer finger. “But my dad said I could still do sleepovers with her and maybe she could come stay in my new room soon. And he said Uncle Rhett won’t mind at all if we paint the walls. I’m thinking purple or teal or maybe something else. Dad said I can choose for my room.”

  “Sounds like that could be a lot of fun.”

  Hailey grinned. “I think so. Hey, and you could sleep over, too!”

  Footsteps crunched on the ground behind them. “Who’s sleeping over?” Boone’s voice. Of course this would be when he arrived.

  Slowly, Violet rose to stand again. The laugh that escaped her lips had an undercurrent of nerves she hoped Boone didn’t pick up on. She kept her gaze on Hailey. “How about we plan a sleepover where you and Piper come to my house instead. It can be a girls-only party.”

  Hailey grabbed Violet’s hand and pumped it as she jumped up and down. “Oh! Can we really?”

  “As long as it’s fine with your dad and Piper’s parents.” Violet pivoted to finally bring Boone into their conversation.

  Boone’s expression was soft as he studied her face. “I’m sure we could make that work.” He turned and pulled Hailey into a hug. “But I get you to myself for a little bit first before we start planning nights away, okay?”

  Hailey’s thin arms came around her dad’s neck. Boone’s daughter pressed her mouth close to his ear and whispered something. The sight caused sadness to prick Violet’s eyes. She was happy Hailey finally had her dad’s attention, but it also reminded Violet of all she had missed out on in her life and everything she would never have.

  Get a hold of yourself.

  Hadn’t she just decided she was going to be cool and professional around Boone? The fact that the man could hurdle over her defenses without even knowing he was doing so irrationally irritated her.

  Violet took a few steps away. “All right, well, I’m going to head down to the office.”

  Boone cleared his throat. “Wait up.” He lifted Hailey into his arms and his large stride ate up the distance between them in seconds. “Hailey has a question for you.”

  “Since we can’t do our girls party yet we want to invite you to dinner tonight. It’s at our house. Will you come?”

  Violet raised an eyebrow in Boone’s direction.

  Boone grinned. “Yes, we are inviting you over. I figured you and I need some time to brainstorm for the event for Silas at Chick-N-More anyway—at the office we’ll be pulled in a million directions with everything at the ranch and camp. Unless you don’t want to plan in your off-hours—I completely understand that, too.”

  “I don’t mind at all.” Violet wanted to ask about Silas but it would probably be better to wait until Hailey wasn’t around and Boone could speak candidly. “I think dinner’s a great idea.”

  “Great idea, huh?” He winked at his daughter. “She must not know about my cooking yet.”

  Hailey giggled. “He’s the worst!” She stuck out her tongue and grabbed at her throat as if the idea of eating food her dad prepared would make her sick.

  Boone wrinkled his nose. “I’m not that bad.”

  “He is.” Hailey nodded. “He burns oatmeal.”

  “In his defense, oatmeal can be tricky,” Violet offere
d.

  Boone’s hand shot into the air, ready for Violet to give him a high five. Not one to leave someone hanging, Violet complied. Boone hooted like a sports fan who had just watched the ending to a close championship game. “See, at least someone around here is on Team Dad.”

  Violet thought back to the night she had left the chapel service and had accused him of feeding the campers false hope. She had wondered if their interactions would be awkward or stilted when they saw each other again but Boone wasn’t acting as if he was offended by what she had said. Perhaps he was being normal for Hailey’s sake, but Violet didn’t think so. Boone was nothing if not genuine and sincere in his interactions. She still wanted to apologize for how she had stormed off on him so they could put it in the past, but now wasn’t the time for that, either.

  He spun Hailey around in a circle and then smiled over at Violet. “I’ll be in the office in about a half an hour. Have to drop the rug rat off at her grandparents’ house for a visit first.”

  Given the fact that Boone’s father had passed away last year and his mother lived in a memory care facility, he had to be talking about June’s parents. Violet had momentarily forgotten that they lived in town—that June would always be a very present part of Boone’s life. For a second Violet had felt as if...

  So foolish. A few smiles and kind words from a nice guy and Violet had lost the good sense that had protected her in the romance department for so many years. Like the rest of the Jarretts, Boone was simply kind and was making sure she felt welcome and included. They all acted this kindly at Red Dog Ranch. Reading anything else into his actions would do Violet no good. Besides, she didn’t want anyone flirting with her. She wouldn’t know the first thing about being in a relationship, which was why she avoided them.