Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected CowboyHis Ideal MatchThe Rancher's Secret Son

by Debra Clopton

  “Will her parents come get her early? Is that even allowed?”

  “It’s a disruption, one we try to avoid at all costs. Anytime a parent has to intervene in the program, it typically halts progress.”

  A second, more intense shiver skirted up her spine. “And I’m not intervening?”

  His mouth opened, but Emma pushed ahead, panic driving her words past her control. He’d just said it himself—her nightmare, brought verbally to life. Fear clouded her vision. “I’m Cody’s parent first, Max. Before I’m these girls’ counselor or your lifesaver or whatever it was you called me when I agreed to this whole crazy thing.” She jabbed her finger at his chest. “I’m his mother.”

  He wrapped his hand around her pointed finger and gently, but firmly, lowered her hand. Her breath caught, his touch sending small sparks up to her elbow and combating the chill leftover from cold truth. “I know who you are, Emma Shaver.”

  And there they were. Back in the barn, with a thousand unspoken words hovering between them. But which ones to speak? And would it accomplish anything other than relieving a bit of stress and then leaving her drenched in regret? She was tired of regret. Tired of wondering. Tired of doubting. Would she ever make it through the rest of the month?

  Would Cody?

  A sob began to work its way up her chest, and she swallowed it back. She couldn’t be that vulnerable in front of Max. It just wasn’t right. Not after everything they’d been through. No, she needed walls. Brick ones. Big, tall, brick ones.

  “If I thought you were hindering Cody, I wouldn’t have let you stay.” Max’s confident tone spiked through her fears and left her hoping for...well, hope.

  “Are you sure?” Her heart thundered. “Maybe you’re just blinded to the facts because of need.”

  “Don’t pull that textbook stuff out with me.” His smile tempered his words. “I would never sacrifice a teenager because of a camp need. The campers are why I’m here.”

  “Then what would you have done if I’d said no?” Emma realized suddenly he hadn’t let go of her hand, yet she couldn’t force herself to pull it away. She wanted him to let go first.

  This time.

  “If you had said no, God would have sent someone else.” He squeezed her fingers, and she squeezed back as if on autopilot. “He’s sort of on the side of Camp Hope, you know.”

  She really didn’t know whose side God was on, except that it probably wasn’t hers. But no need to get into theology while they had a potentially bulimic girl, a lame horse and a camp full of teenagers needing their supper to deal with. She risked a glance into his face, and her heart clenched at his eyes, so similar to Cody’s, gazing down at her with such sincerity. Such honesty. Such compassion.

  Where had Max Ringgold gone? The man she knew from days ago was nothing like this. That man had been hard enough to walk away from—but this one...

  How could she walk away a second time?

  She tugged her hand free. “I’ll keep a closer watch on Tonya. I promise.”

  “This wasn’t your fault.” Max’s arm hung limp at his side as if he didn’t know what to do with his suddenly empty hand. She could relate, so she hooked her thumbs into her back pockets. “You do know that, right?”

  Not her fault. That’s what everyone told her about Cody, too, and what she often told parents of wayward children she saw in counseling. But wasn’t a piece of it her fault? She had to be responsible to a degree—even if it was the single mistake of going against God’s Word and sleeping with Cody’s father when she knew better. Knew he wasn’t legit. Knew he wouldn’t change for her.

  But he had changed, and maybe the fact that it wasn’t for her was what hurt worst of all.

  “These teens ultimately have to make their own choices. That goes for Tonya—and Cody.” Max’s fingers brushed her shoulder, and she leaned into the warmth before easing away from the touch that so easily got her in trouble. “Emma, you have to believe me.”

  His words hit her heart but didn’t penetrate, like an arrow flung at a target without enough force to stick. “I know you think that.”

  “It’s true.”

  Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t her fault, so much as it was his. Max Ringgold, for however much he’d crossed over to the good side, had once very much occupied the darkness. Weren’t bad boy genes hereditary? The Bible even talked about the sins of the father being passed down. Maybe Cody didn’t have a chance at all because of his very DNA. Maybe his future was already determined in the negative. Didn’t all of it—the vandalism, the fighting, the rebellion—come so naturally to her son?

  She’d seen the same thing in his father.

  And if she looked really hard—in herself.

  “I’m going to go check on Tonya.” She drew a ragged breath before pushing open the dormitory door behind him. “We’re done here.”

  * * *

  She was getting really good at walking away from him. Max stayed in the entryway after the door shut behind her, wondering if he should follow.

  Or walk away for good.

  But the only way to walk away from Emma Shaver was physically. And he wasn’t leaving Camp Hope, and for the time being, neither was she. He somehow had to find a way to stick out this arrangement he’d plopped them both into and move forward for the sake of the kids. This was about the campers—not him. His struggles and dreams and desires were not at stake, but an entire dormful of teenagers’ were, including one potentially sick young girl who needed his attention and support. Not his half effort and attention because he was so distracted by Emma.

  The heater shut off, leaving a heavy silence surrounding the entryway. He rubbed his temples beneath the rim of his cowboy hat and stared down at the linoleum squares beneath his boots. He should have known. And maybe he had. Maybe God had sparked the idea and arranged for Emma to fill the temporary need of counseling—but hadn’t his own heart jumped at the opportunity to spend regular time with her again? He’d bit that bullet a lot more eagerly than he’d tried to convince himself at first.

  Hopefully he hadn’t jumped ahead of God. He was so used to lingering behind the Lord, dragging his heels and denying his purpose in starting Camp Hope for so long, that he wasn’t sure if he’d recognize what it meant to run ahead, to carve his own path and hope it was the same one God wanted him to walk.

  Maybe he wasn’t supposed to be anything more for Emma right now than a counselor to her son. That would have to be enough—regardless of how good she felt in his arms. Regardless of how his heart ached to atone for the past.

  Regardless of how the sight of her walking away from him made him feel like a helpless, love-struck teenager once again.

  But they had to come to some kind of truce. He and Emma couldn’t keep playing emotional relay, passing the baton of the past back and forth in heated arguments. He glanced toward the door, wishing he could barrel back inside and demand Emma come settle this once and for all. He was sick of elephants crowding their time together and wreaking havoc on his memories.

  The door opened, and his heart leaped before realizing it was Stacy. Then it jumped again for a different reason. Had something else happened to Tonya?

  “She okay?” His tone sounded more clipped than he meant for it to, and it seemed Stacy picked up on it, as well. Her posture stiffened.

  “She’s fine. Trust me.” Stacy smirked.

  Smug. Too smug. Max narrowed his eyes. “What do you know?”

  Her grin faded, and real anxiety flashed across her expression before morphing back into neutral. “Nothing, I swear.”

  Yeah, right. “No lying at Camp Hope.”

  Stacy snorted. “You do realize that’s a dumb rule? Everyone lies. And how will you even know?” She crossed her arms, all rebellion. And probably a bit of jealousy over the attention her roommate was receiving.

 
Max’s spirits sagged. They’d come so far, and now... He withheld the sigh begging for release. “Call it a gift.” Too bad he’d never seen the truth in Emma’s eyes before she deserted their relationship years ago. He could have saved himself the pain and embarrassment of all the unanswered calls and emails. Could have avoided the hope that she just got busy at school and would be home for Christmas. Or Valentine’s. Or Easter. But the holidays passed, and then spring, and then the entire summer.

  He’d never seen it coming. And he would never make that mistake in misreading someone again.

  Starting with Tonya—and the stubborn girl standing before him.

  “I can tell when someone is lying.” He leaned down slightly and peered right into Stacy’s eyes. She backed up a step, brow furrowed, as one hand nervously reached up to wind blond strands around her finger. “Trust me.”

  For a moment, it looked as though she might believe him. Panic took over once again, and her lips parted. But instead of revealing truth, she slammed the mask securely back in place and turned her mouth into a sarcastic grin. She shot a pointed look at the dorm behind her leading to Tonya. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

  * * *

  Emma sat at the long kitchen table inside the main house later that night, legs crossed in her favorite pair of lounge pants. A mug of hot chocolate that Mama Jeanie had graciously prepared for her sat at her side, while Tonya’s, Katie’s and Stacy’s files were spread open before her.

  She slowly flipped through the pages as a carved wooden cuckoo clock ticked above her head, reminding her she’d been here for a while already and didn’t have much to show for it. She’d been able to get away from the dorm for a bit since Faith had come to stay the night as backup for Tonya, who had been excused from the rest of the evening’s activities. Max told her, though, if she couldn’t keep up the next morning, she had an E.R. trip in her immediate future—even if her parents had allowed her to skip it today.

  She turned another page in Tonya’s file, hoping to find insight that could point her in the right direction. It was weird looking at Max’s careful, handwritten notes in the margins. Too bad she couldn’t get a true glimpse of Cody’s file. When she’d gotten close enough to be tempted earlier, all she’d seen was the contact page of Cody’s information, before her conscience caught up and she’d shut the folder and put it away. She really wanted to read what Max had written during their counseling sessions, and gauge any of Cody’s potential progress for herself. She was so desperate to know what to expect when they went home in a few weeks. Was the fact that Max wasn’t keeping her up-to-date a bad sign? Or just protocol?

  Her eyes lingered on the stack of files again. But no, she couldn’t interfere like that. It wasn’t her place, and those choices wouldn’t exactly draw her closer to her son. Besides, she’d already seen more than she knew what to do with—a typo. And not just any typo, but one regarding Cody’s birthday.

  Her stomach flipped like it had when she’d seen it. A blessing in disguise? Now even if Max suspected, he wouldn’t be able to prove it....

  Or was it just one more item to add to her guilt-ridden list?

  The desk lamp she’d borrowed from the living area cast a dim glow across her paperwork. She picked up her mug of cocoa and swirled it gently, watching the marshmallows float in an easy circle by the rim and wishing this whole situation hadn’t grown so complicated. Somehow, she’d lost control of her own son, yet been put in charge of three incredibly different young ladies—not to mention been dropped straight into the daily presence of the exact man she’d gone to great lengths to avoid for over a decade.

  Who said God didn’t have a sense of humor?

  If she weren’t so jaded, she’d examine that a little further. She didn’t really believe God was laughing at her or had arranged these circumstances at her expense. Rather, she believed in punishment. Judgment for sins. Living out the consequences of bad choices. Hadn’t she done that her whole life? She’d sacrificed so much to keep her pregnancy a secret, and then to keep Cody’s father’s identity a secret—because she should. She deserved to pay for her mistakes. As the saying went—she’d made her bed.

  But had those sacrifices cost too much?

  “Marshmallows can’t talk, you know.”

  She jerked, cocoa spilling onto her hand. Of course Max knew she’d been there, since he’d gotten the files for her earlier that evening. But she hadn’t expected him to come hang out—especially not after their exchange that afternoon in the dorm.

  He grabbed a dishrag that was folded by the sink and tossed it to her, his lips turned up in amusement. “Sorry. You were just staring into your cup so hard I figured you were expecting an answer.”

  If only it were that simple. “It’s okay. Just daydreaming.” At night. About him.

  And his son.

  She dabbed her hand dry and tossed the towel at the far end of the table. Too bad she couldn’t throw away her worries as easily.

  He pulled up the chair beside her, turning it backward before straddling it. Clad in faded jeans and a college sweatshirt, sans hat, he looked way too much like the Max from the old days. The one who could charm his way into her heart with a single look. The one who’d stolen a lot more than he’d ever given back.

  The one who once had convinced her he wanted a life with her.

  “Find any hidden treasures in there?” He pointed to Tonya’s file, and she closed it before passing it over.

  “If you mean explanations, no.” She brushed her hair out of her eyes and shifted to face him, suddenly regretting the decision to wear yoga pants. “We’ll have to play it out.”

  “I figured. I’ve read all the campers’ files several times, and I just don’t know. At least we’re watching closely now.”

  “Better late than never, huh?” She offered a half smile, but he returned it with that serious gaze that still seemed so foreign to her—and still sent shivers over her skin.

  “I agree.” His heavy-lidded eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he studied her, and an impish grin quirked the side of his mouth.

  Her stomach clenched, and she slowly slid her mug away. “We’re not talking about Tonya anymore, are we?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I need you.”

  She stared at Max as if sitting motionless could somehow make his words visible. Surely she didn’t hear him correctly. “What did you say?”

  He didn’t blink, just held her gaze with those steady eyes. Those eyes that always reminded her of hot chocolate with a little too much milk. “I need you.”

  Oh, wait, they’d done this before. She relaxed slightly in her chair, futilely attempting to calm her erratic heartbeat. “Right. You mean, here. At the camp.” She let out a breath. “I know. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.” Hadn’t they said that already? Why did he have to keep bringing it up? He probably thought she needed more affirmation after today’s episode with Tonya, but he was taking it a little too far.

  “No.” He reached for her hand resting on the table and threaded his fingers through hers. An immediate shock wave radiated up her arm, and she tensed but didn’t pull away. “I mean, I need you. I need to be around you. I need...” His voice trailed off and he glanced down at their joined hands. “This.”

  No. He wasn’t. He couldn’t. “Max.” His name left her lips like honey dripping from a spoon. Sweet and achingly slow. She couldn’t conceal the emotion he still generated inside her. But this couldn’t happen. Not for a hundred reasons.

  Especially not for one.

  “I miss you.”

  She missed him, too. And what did that say about her? She missed the man who represented her biggest regret in life. Not Cody, of course. He wasn’t a regret, even in spite of the heartache of the past few years.

  But Max—big regret. Big heartache.

 
What was wrong with her? She was worse than a moth to a flame. At least the moths didn’t know better. She did—and was still tempted.

  “I know it’s impossible.” He held on tightly to her fingers, as if fighting the inevitable, and finally broke eye contact to rub his thumb over her hand. “But if it wasn’t...I’d be tempted to do this.” He lifted her hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles.

  Chills raced down her arms as heat—and memories—warmed her heart. His lips moved up to her wrist, sending tingles into her shoulder.

  “Or this.” In one fluid motion, he scooted his chair a foot closer to hers, leaned over and cupped her neck with one hand, thumb grazing the side of her cheek.

  She closed her eyes, knowing what was next. This was wrong. So wrong. But it was Max. So familiar. She couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe, much less form a coherent thought. When was the last time he’d kissed her?

  Oh. Yeah.

  She jerked away as if burned, nearly tilting her chair backward. “No. No!”

  “I heard you.” Max held up both hands in surrender, still close enough to touch but obeying her protest. “I’m sorry.”

  He’d tried to start it up again. And she’d almost let him.

  It was almost enough.

  Almost.

  “It wouldn’t be right.” His words came out a statement but left a clear question mark ending. “You’re working here.”

  “I’m working here.” She parroted numbly, unable to back away any farther from his magnetism but knowing if she didn’t, she might very well find herself pulling the same move on him. “I work here.” There, that was a reason he could understand. A reason she could actually share, anyway.

  “You work here.” He repeated it back, nodding, until the sly charm she never could resist filled his eyes. “For three more weeks. Give or take.”

  Three weeks. A lifetime. Same difference. With Max, time stopped and sped up and rewound and did all sorts of crazy things she couldn’t control. And that was the problem—with Max, she had no control. Never did.