Betting on Hope

by Debra Clopton

  “Oh, my,” Reba said, her voice hushed.

  “I’ve never seen Pebble that mad before.” Clara Lyn’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a good sign.”

  “A good sign? If she’d been a rocket she’d be to the moon by now.”

  “Reba, think about it. Yes, she is embarrassed. Yes, he’s fond of the bottle and she’s a teetotaler—wouldn’t touch a drop if it was all there was to drink and she was lost in the desert. But I don’t think she would be that mad if she didn’t care a little. Do you?”

  “You know,” Reba drummed her fingernails on her manicure table, looking thoughtful. “You just might be right.”

  Clara Lyn grinned. “I think it bears some thought. And Rand does need to get his act together. What kind of example is he setting? This is gettin’ out of control.”

  “Maybe we need to speak to someone—”

  “Doonie’s his best friend,” Reba said. “He’s also the mayor and Rand is on the city council. As citizens we need to voice our opinion. We could complain to the preacher too. You know, for Rand’s own good.”

  “Reba, I’m sure that Doonie and Doobie and the preacher all know. The problem is, I think we all need to get together on this and do one of those interventions. I was watching one of them on a TV reality show the other night. This guy’s friends and family got together and planned a hijacking of him. They just all got together and confronted him. What do you think? It never hurts to be the one to squirt the first grease on a wheel and get it to squeakin’.”

  Reba stared at her. “That does not make a lick of sense but I know what you’re saying. And I agree.”

  Clara Lyn felt better. “Then let’s get to greasin’.”

  Maggie got her first column about Wishing Springs in by the Friday noon deadline. She pressed send at exactly 11:49 a.m. She actually loved the piece. It was a get-to-know-the-town article and it made her smile. She celebrated with a cup of green tea.

  The fact that Tru had an exhibition on Friday and left early Thursday morning had worked for her. She needed a break from him.

  Every day she was around him was a day of more conflicting emotions.

  She had some letters to answer and then she was heading out to Over the Rainbow. When she’d been there earlier in the week, she’d been invited to come eat spaghetti and hang out this afternoon. She’d promised to come if she could. At the time, she hadn’t been sure of her riding schedule. Or whether she would meet her deadline. She also hadn’t known Tru was going to be out of town and that she’d get caught up because of it.

  And she hadn’t known just how much she was going to want to go back and see everyone. Especially Jenna. The girl was about as brave as they got as far as Maggie was concerned.

  When she arrived, there were several cars parked in the driveway. Almost like they were having a party.

  Turned out they were.

  “Hey, Maggie, you came,” Jenna called from the deck as Maggie rounded the corner of the house. She’d learned that most people used the back door.

  “I sure did. I got my columns written and Tru is out of town, so no riding this evening. What’s going on?”

  “It’s game day. There are a group of older ladies in there from town. They come out and teach us things, like cooking or knitting and then we play a bunch of board games. Today, Ms. Hanover is teaching a couple of the gals how to knit. I’m all thumbs where that’s concerned.”

  “I would be too. That’s really cool, though.”

  Looking at the cars, she recognized one of them as Clara Lyn’s. She had a feeling if the hairstylist was in there, they surely were having a party.

  Sitting down in the chair beside Jenna, Maggie saw she had a photo book of some kind in her lap. “What are you doing?”

  Jenna gave a big sigh. “I’m looking for a family for my baby.”

  Her words hit Maggie hard. “You are—” she paused, “—giving your baby up for adoption?” Maggie hadn’t expected this. Not after all Jenna had gone through to take care of her child.

  Jenna’s hand went protectively to her stomach. “Yes.”

  The word was soft, and for a girl as worldly and in-your-face as Jenna, it spoke volumes. Maggie ached for her. It was a terrible situation.

  “It’s for the best,” she said, stronger. “I’m barely sixteen, a kid myself.”

  Maggie’s heart clutched hard at Jenna’s still-uncertain words. She sounded as if she were trying to convince herself it was true she couldn’t take care of her baby.

  What was Maggie supposed to say to that? Maggie thought of herself and what she’d have done if she’d been in that situation.

  “I’m sure you’ve thought this out. And Lana and Peg have helped you a lot. Right?”

  Jenna nodded, her expression grim. “It’s my choice. It’s why I worked so hard to get here.” Her voice trembled slightly, but determination won out. Though resignation hung thickly in the air.

  Jenna was out here making an obviously heart-wrenching decision and it was game night. The irony of it was not lost on Maggie. These girls made choices like this every day here at the home. They’d made the choice for their babies to live, now they had to make the choice to live without their babies.

  It cut Maggie straight to the heart. Instantly she said a prayer for Jenna and all the girls in the home.

  What did she say to Jenna, though? It wasn’t as if it was any of her business. Or as if she could possibly help her make such a choice.

  “Those . . . are they pictures of families?” She leaned over slightly and glanced at the page. Pictures of a couple and what looked like their home.

  Jenna toyed with the edge of the page. “Yes. They each have a book they make and submit to the agency. It tells me about them and it tells me why they want my baby. And,” she paused, “it tells me of the life they can give my Hope. The love.”

  Hope.

  Maggie fought tears, Jenna naming her child Hope hit her on so many levels. “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing,” Maggie said. “You love your baby enough to think of her before yourself. I’m sure those couples want a baby as much as . . . as much as you love little Hope. And there are so many babies out there that don’t get the chance you’re giving her.”

  Jenna nodded, her hand rubbing gentle circles on her stomach. “I—” she paused. “I love her. This is best way to show my love.” She inhaled sharply and sat up straighter. “Let me show you the ones I’m interviewing over the next week. I’m having to kind of rush this process more than most girls because I had such a late start. But these couples really seem like people I’d like.”

  Maggie felt so sad. Really sad. Jenna was being extremely brave, but Maggie saw through it. The girl was putting on a face. She wanted her baby. Maggie could tell.

  Maggie basically had no one growing up. She’d have had to do the same thing as Jenna had she become pregnant. And for a girl like Maggie, who ached to have a brood of babies and toddlers surrounding her, it would have been almost an impossible thing to do.

  Did Jenna long for a family she could love and be surrounded by as much as Maggie did?

  Maggie knew not every runaway had had the same experiences she’d had. Still, looking at Jenna as she tucked her sable hair behind her ear and turned the page, Maggie got the feeling they thought alike.

  But what could be done? If Jenna couldn’t take care of a baby at her young age then this was the best way. Right?

  A prayer welled up inside of Maggie and formed on its own. Please give Jenna strength and guidance . . . and the courage to make it through.

  13

  Tru drove into the town on Saturday afternoon. He was glad to be home. He’d left a day early to head to the cutting because as planned, he had a test to do.

  Thursday had been the day he was supposed to show up at MD Anderson. As usual, the cancer center in Houston had been a busy place—it was so huge and there was no quick trip ever, but it hadn’t taken all day and for that he’d been thankful. He’d just been glad to get the te
st over with. Now he waited. He’d told no one what he was doing, not even Bo or Jarrod. He should have. But he hadn’t.

  He’d agreed to the testing, because lately the idea of fathering children had been on his mind. Whether he could was a question that had haunted him over the last few years, but only this year had it suddenly grown to where he couldn’t ignore it. All the road time was wearing on him, and he’d started thinking more and more about settling down. And maybe Pops’s illness had put a burr under his saddle too. Life was short. He’d been sent a notice about a group study of the effects of cancer treatments on young boys that his oncologist was involved in, and so he’d made the call and waited for Dr. Jenson to call him.

  He didn’t plan on dwelling on it over the next little while until he heard the results of the study. But it hovered firmly in the corner of his mind like a shadow.

  Driving through town on his way to the ranch, he stopped by the feed store for supplies.

  When he finally made it home to the ranch, it was almost five. He was startled to see Maggie standing at the arena fence holding her hand out to Stardust.

  So, she’d been keeping up her friendship while he was gone. He smiled at the thought. And immediately thoughts of lifting her from Stardust and holding her close swept over him.

  When she turned, the breeze lifted a wisp of her hair from her face and ruffled her filmy shirt, molding it to her gentle curves. His pulse quickened at her beauty.

  His stomach clenched looking at her.

  “Looks like you have a friend there,” he said, walking over to her. She’d grown darker having spent time in the arena, and the cream-colored shorts she wore showed off her long, tanned legs. “Stardust is eating your attention up.”

  “He’s a friendly one, that’s for sure.” She studied him as he stopped only a foot away.

  He was crowding her more than he should, but he was unable to help himself. He’d been thinking of her for the last three days—how good she’d smelled when he’d held her. He breathed in and smiled as the sweet scents of her filled his senses in living color. Thinking of her had meant not thinking about the test so he hadn’t really tried not to.

  His stomach clenched tighter and he fought a battle, wanting to pull her close and bury his face in her soft hair and kiss those lips that had been driving him crazy since Wednesday night in the barn.

  He was suddenly hot. That it was Texas in midsummer explained some of it—not all of it.

  “You look relaxed.” Not exactly what he’d meant to say. But certainly safer than telling her how beautiful she was and how glad he was to see her legs again.

  She’d been wearing jeans every day for riding lessons which was safest. Still . . .

  “I got my first column written about Wishing Springs and also met my deadline for my ‘Gotta Have Hope’ column. It was a little tough this time. My email submissions have doubled. I’ve got a new batch waiting on me right now.”

  The news stung like ice water reminding him that she was benefiting from this venture.

  “That’s good. I assume.”

  She leaned her hip on the arena fence. “It is—my boss will like it. For me it means late nights reading all of them and answering them and picking out which one will be in the paper.”

  “You answer all of them? You read all of them?”

  “Sure I do. It’s overwhelming sometimes, but that’s what I’m committed to.”

  He thought about that. “So that’s why you looked so tired on Tuesday and Wednesday.”

  “Oh, yeah. That’s why. Your early mornings were killing me after my late nights.”

  He laughed and she did too. He liked her laugh. It had a husky edge to it and a kind of musical lilt.

  She turned back to Stardust and scratched him between the ears—lucky horse.

  Tru stepped away at that thought. He was toying with fire and he knew it. “I need to unload Cinder.” He strode away from her, back toward the trailer.

  “So how did your exhibition go?” she asked, following him.

  He focused on work. “Good. One of my main sponsors is the producer of horse feed and special care products for horses. Periodically, I have these exhibitions at arenas and it actually draws a good-size crowd. Most of the time. I’ve done a few that were flops. This one had nearly two hundred people at it.”

  “Wow, and you showed them how to cut?”

  “Yes, but mostly I showed them things I’m going to be showing you in a couple of weeks.”

  “So you were practicing.”

  He smiled, feeling better suddenly than he had when he’d first driven into the yard. “Oh, yeah, I’ve got to win this thing after all,” he teased, and it felt good. He pulled the lever and opened the trailer gate, swinging it wide.

  She laughed. “Oh, like you think I’m competition or something.”

  “Hey, you never know.”

  He walked Cinder off the trailer, having left Crimson home for this go-round and taken the younger horse out for some experience. He was glad to have a job to do or otherwise he might have snatched Maggie up and kissed those teasing lips.

  “Now that I know you better I don’t believe it.”

  Her smile blossomed full as she fell into step beside him. “Good.”

  “Hey, I need to check on Pops, but we could ride in about forty-five minutes. If you want?”

  “That sounds good to me. I’ve been trying to make myself not be so skittish. I stopped in to pet Stardust at least once a day while you were gone.”

  “Great.”

  “I’ll go change and read a few emails,” she said and headed for her car. He went into the barn and realized after a moment that he was whistling.

  Maggie had missed Tru and she wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. It went against everything she wanted, and yet when he’d walked into the barn, it was as if the day got suddenly brighter. Her spirits had lifted.

  She’d been happy to see him.

  Wanting to give herself some time to clear her head, she changed quickly and sat down to read a few emails. But instead, she picked up the bag full of mail and reached for a letter. Using her mail opener, she split open the end and tugged out the typed letter. She started to read it, then halted. Her mouth went dry and her hands began to tremble, causing the paper in her hand to shake violently.

  Maggie stared at the letter.

  I know who you are and what you did—what would happen if I exposed the truth about you?

  There was nothing else in the letter and no return address on the envelope. Icy fingers of her past wrapped around her heart—reached in and gripped around her windpipe cutting off her breath.

  Was it her dad? Of course, that would be her first thought. He was the only person alive she thought would ever recognize her from the girl she’d once been. But was he out of prison? And if so, how had he found her?

  Her hand went to her throat and she sucked in a shallow bit of air.

  Closing her eyes, she willed her pulse to calm down, but it didn’t pay any attention to her, speeding up instead, as thoughts of her past reared from the shadows . . . and threatened everything she’d worked so hard for.

  She glanced at the clock and knew she had to go. Tru would be waiting on her.

  Five minutes ago she wasn’t sure what to do with Tru Monahan. Now, that was the least of her worries.

  “Is something on your mind?”

  Maggie glanced over at Tru, still shocked that they were riding across open pasture and not in the round pen. She’d been so numb with worry about the threatening letter that she hadn’t even questioned him about why. He’d told her anyway as if thinking she was worried about the horse.

  She wished.

  He’d explained that this was what she needed. That she would learn to relax and get used to the feel of the horse beneath her as they rode a casual pace across country.

  At the moment Maggie wanted to bend low over Stardust’s neck and ride like the wind. Ride far away and out of reach of whoever knew she was
here and knew the secrets of her past.

  She couldn’t do either. She’d probably fall out of the saddle and break her neck if she tried galloping Stardust, but the plus of that was it wouldn’t matter then whether anyone knew that Maggie Hope wasn’t her real name. Or that she’d been a con-artist and a thief from the age of four—until right before she’d met Amanda.

  She closed her eyes and swayed.

  “Maggie, what’s wrong?”

  She focused, meeting Tru’s concerned gaze. “Nothing. Just enjoying the ride.”

  He didn’t look convinced. Her stomach was feeling as uneasy as he looked. “You don’t look all right,” he said. “You look pale.”

  She studied the scenery and tried to think of an honest reply. “I went to see a friend today—Jenna. She’s a teen out at the home for pregnant girls.” It was the truth and while it didn’t explain her lack of color, it did give her something to talk about. And right now she needed that for more than a cover.

  The sun was brilliant and she was glad she’d put her shades on before they’d headed out so at least he couldn’t see her eyes.

  “How did you meet her?”

  “Well, it’s a unique story, actually.” She smiled in relief that she had something else to focus on. She patted Stardust’s neck and told him about finding her on the side of the road and taking her to Peg and Lana’s. He took his shades off and gaped at her in disbelief.

  “She hitchhiked in the back of a truck under a tarp and she was seven months pregnant.”

  “I know it’s unbelievable.” Maggie felt sudden tears well in her eyes.

  “She must have been very desperate.” He pulled Cinder to a halt and she pulled on the reins and Stardust stopped too. “You’re crying.”

  She sniffed and brushed a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “It’s just . . . you’re right. She told me the other night that she was running from her abusive father and doing whatever it took to get her baby to safety.” Maggie’s thoughts veered to her own father and the emotional abuse he’d put her through all of her life. She was at least thankful she’d not had to endure the physical abuse that Jenna had endured for so long.