The Soldier's Redemption

by Lee Tobin McClain

  A second chance at family...

  in this Redemption Ranch novel

  Blaming himself for the accident that claimed his wife and son, ranch manager Finn Gallagher vows he’ll never remarry. Yet he’s drawn to his new rescue-dog caretaker, Kayla White, and her little boy. But the single mother’s running from something in her past. And as he begins wishing the little family could be his, Finn must convince her to trust him with her secret.

  “I should probably bring another bucket of water, right?”

  “Just to be sure. I’m sorry I can’t help you.”

  “You’re helping, believe me.” She gave her sleeping child a tender glance before taking the bucket back over to the outside spigot.

  Finn felt the weight of the five-year-old boy against him as if it were lead. Pressing him down into the lawn chair.

  Pressing him into his past.

  He’d held his own son just like this. It was such a sweet age, still small enough to fit into a lap and to want to be there.

  Leo would soon grow beyond such tenderness.

  Derek wouldn’t, not ever.

  The knowledge of that ached in Finn’s chest. Outside of the guilt and the regret, he just plain missed his son.

  Kayla sloshed another bucket over the fire pit. “There. No sparks left to cause a fire.”

  He met her eyes and the thought flashed through him: There are still some sparks here, just not the fire-pit kind.

  But although it was true, it wouldn’t do to highlight the fact.

  Lee Tobin McClain read Gone with the Wind in the third grade and has been a hopeless romantic ever since. When she’s not writing angst-filled love stories with happy endings, she’s getting inspiration from her church singles group, her gymnastics-obsessed teenage daughter, and her rescue dog and cat. In her day job, Lee gets to encourage aspiring romance writers in Seton Hill University’s low-residency MFA program. Visit her at leetobinmcclain.com.

  Books by Lee Tobin McClain

  Love Inspired

  Redemption Ranch

  The Soldier’s Redemption

  Rescue River

  Engaged to the Single Mom

  His Secret Child

  Small-Town Nanny

  The Soldier and the Single Mom

  The Soldier’s Secret Child

  A Family for Easter

  Christmas Twins

  Secret Christmas Twins

  Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch

  The Nanny’s Texas Christmas

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  THE SOLDIER’S

  REDEMPTION

  Lee Tobin McClain

  And the people, when they knew it, followed him: and he received them, and spake unto them of the kingdom of God, and healed them that had need of healing.

  —Luke 9:11

  To the staff and volunteers at Animal Friends of Westmoreland. Thank you for letting me work alongside you to learn how a dog rescue operates...and thank you for being a voice for those who cannot speak for themselves.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Excerpt from Falling for the Cowgirl by Tina Radcliffe

  Chapter One

  Finn Gallagher leaned his cane against the desk and swiveled his chair around to face the open window. He loved solitude, but with overseeing Redemption Ranch’s kennels, dealing with suppliers and workers and the public, he didn’t get enough of it. These early-morning moments when he could sip coffee and look out across the flat plain toward the Sangre de Cristo Mountains were precious and few.

  He was reaching over to turn on the window fan—June in Colorado could be hot—when he heard a knock behind him. “Pardon me,” said a quiet female voice. “I’ve come about the job.”

  So much for solitude.

  He swiveled around and got the impression of a small brown sparrow. Plain, with no identifying markers. Brown tied-back hair, gray flannel shirt, jeans, no-brand sneakers.

  Well, she was plain until you noticed those high cheekbones and striking blue eyes.

  “How’d you find us?” he asked.

  “Ad in the paper.” She said it Southern style: “Aaa-yud.” Not from around here. “Kennel assistant, general cleaning.”

  “Come on in. Sit down,” he said and gestured to a chair, not because he wanted her there but because he felt rude sitting while she was standing. And his days of getting to his feet the moment a lady walked into the room were over. “I’m Finn Gallagher. I run the day-to-day operations here at the ranch.”

  “Kayla White.” She sat down like a sparrow, too, perching. Ready for flight.

  “Actually,” he said, “for this position, we were looking for a man.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “That’s discriminatory. I can do the work. I’m stronger than I look.”

  He studied her a little closer and noticed that she wore long sleeves, buttoned down. In this heat? Weird. She looked healthy, not like a druggie hiding track marks, but lately more and more people seemed to be turning in that desperate direction.

  “It’s pretty remote here.” He’d rather she removed herself from consideration for the job so he wouldn’t have to openly turn her down. She was right about the discrimination thing. With all their financial troubles, the last thing Redemption Ranch needed was a lawsuit. “A good ten miles to the nearest town, over bad roads.”

  She nodded patiently. And didn’t ask to be withdrawn from consideration.

  “The position requires you to live in. Not much chance to meet people and socialize.” He glanced at her bare left hand.

  “I’m not big on socializing. More of a bookworm, actually.”

  That almost made him like her. He spent most of his evenings at home with a dog and a good book, himself. “Small cabin,” he warned.

  “I’ll fit.” She gestured at her petite self as the hint of a smile crossed her face and was just as quickly gone. “I’m relocating,” she clarified, “so living in would be easier than finding a job and a place to stay, both.”

  So she wasn’t going to give up. Which was fine, really; there was no reason the new hire had to be male. He just had a vision of a woman needing a lot of attention and guidance, gossiping up a blue streak, causing trouble with the veterans.

  Both his mother and his boss would have scolded him for that type of prejudice.

  Anyway, Kayla seemed independent and not much of a talker. The more Finn looked at her, though, the more he thought she might cause a little interest, at least, among the guys.

  And if she were using... “There’s a drug test,” he said abruptly and watched her reaction.

  “Not a problem.” Her response was instant and unambiguous.

  Okay, then. Maybe she was a possibility.

  They talked through the duties of the job—feeding and walking the dogs, some housekeeping in the offices, but mostly cleaning kennels. She had experience cleaning, references. She liked dogs. She’d done cooking, too, which wasn’t a need they had now, but they might in the futu
re.

  Now he wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk her into the job or talk her out of it. Something about her, some hint of self-sufficiency, made him like her, at least as much as he liked any woman. And they did need to hire someone soon. But he got the feeling there was a lot she wasn’t saying.

  Would it be okay to have a woman around? He tested the notion on himself. He didn’t date, didn’t deserve to after what he’d done. That meant he spent almost no time around women his age. A nice, quiet woman might be a welcome change.

  Or she might be a big complication he didn’t need.

  “What’s the living situation?” she asked. “You said a cabin. Where’s it located?”

  He gestured west. “There’s a row of seven cabins. Small, like I said. And a little run-down. Seeing as you’re female, we’d put you on the end of the row—that’s what we did with the one female vet who stayed here—but eventually they’ll fill up, mostly with men. Veterans with issues.”

  She blanched, visibly.

  He waited. From the bird feeder outside his window, a chickadee scolded. The smell of mountain sage drifted in.

  “What kind of issues?” Her voice came out a little husky.

  “PTSD related, mostly. Some physical disabilities, too. Anything that would cause a vet to give up hope, is how the owner of the ranch puts it. We give residents a place to get their heads together, do some physical labor and help some four-legged critters who need it. The idea is to help them get back on their feet.”

  She looked away, out the window, chewing on her lower lip.

  He took pity. “We don’t allow any firearms. No drugs or alcohol. And we have a couple of mental health specialists and a doctor on call. Planning on a chaplain, too.” Once we start bringing in enough money to hire one, he almost added, but didn’t. “If somebody’s problems seem too much for us to handle, we refer them elsewhere.”

  “I see.” She looked thoughtful.

  They should’ve put what kind of nonprofit it was in the ad, to screen out people who were scared of veterans. But the truth was, they’d limited the ad to the fewest words possible, economizing.

  “I can show you around,” he said. “If you like what you see, we can talk more.”

  He was pretty sure that conversation wouldn’t happen, judging by the way her attitude had changed once their focus on veterans had come up.

  He hoisted himself to his feet, grabbed his cane and started toward the door.

  She’d stood up to follow, but when she saw him full-length, she took a step back.

  It shouldn’t surprise him. Even with the inch or so he’d lost from the spinal surgery, he was still six-four. And he’d been lifting to work off some steam. Pretty much The Incredible Hulk.

  It had used to work in his favor with women, at least some of them, way back when that had mattered.

  “You’re military?” she asked as he gestured for her to walk out ahead of him.

  “Yep.” He waited for the fake thank you for your service.

  She didn’t say it. “What branch?” she asked.

  He was closing the door behind them. When he turned to answer, he saw that she’d moved ahead and was kneeling down in front of a little boy who sat on the floor of the outer office, his back against the wall, holding a small gaming device.

  Finn sucked in a breath, restrained a surprised exclamation, tried to compose himself.

  Kid looked to be about five. Freckle faced and towheaded.

  Just like Derek.

  His emotions churning, he watched her tap the boy’s chin to get his attention. Odd that such a small boy had been so quiet during the, what, half hour that they’d been talking. Derek could never have done it.

  “My son, Leo,” she said, glancing up at Finn. And then, to the boy: “We’re going to walk around with Mr. Gallagher. We might have a place to stay for a bit, a tiny little house.”

  The boy’s eyes lit up and he opened his mouth to speak. Then he looked over at Finn and snapped it shut. He scooted farther behind his mother.

  Could the kid be afraid of his limp or his cane? Could Kayla? But if she couldn’t deal with that, or her kid couldn’t, then they needed to take themselves far away from Redemption Ranch. His problems were minor compared to some of the veterans who would soon be staying here.

  And beyond that, what kind of risks would a young kid face in a place like this? The vets he wasn’t really worried about, but a little kid could be trouble around dogs—if he was too afraid of them, or not afraid enough.

  No kids were going to be hurt on Finn’s watch. Never again.

  “This way,” he said, his voice brusque. He’d show them around, because he had said he would. Unlike a lot of people, he didn’t retract his promises.

  He touched her back to guide her out. As he felt the ridge of her spine through the shirt, she looked up at him, eyes wide and startled.

  He withdrew his hand immediately, his face heating. He hadn’t meant his touch to be flirtatious, but apparently it had come off some weird way.

  He could already tell this wasn’t going to work.

  * * *

  Kayla pulled Leo close beside her as she walked ahead of the square-shouldered soldier into the open air. Her mind raced at strategic pace.

  She’d gotten a good feeling about the job when she’d seen it, reading the Esperanza Springs Mountaineer in the café where they’d had an early breakfast. Live in—check. They needed a place to live. A good thousand miles away from Arkansas, remote and off the beaten path—check. That was the big priority. Work she could handle—check. She liked dogs, and she liked working hands-on.

  A wholesome, healthy, happy environment that would help Leo heal... Of that, she wasn’t yet sure.

  As for her own healing from her terrible marriage, she wasn’t expecting that, and it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the type to elicit love from anyone, her son the exception. She knew that for sure, now.

  The man striding beside her—and how did a guy stride with a cane, anyway?—looked a little too much like her bodybuilding, short-haired, military-postured ex. Finn had spooked her son to the point where, now, Leo pressed close into her side, making it hard to walk.

  But it wasn’t like she was going to become best friends with this Finn Gallagher, if she did get this job and decide to take it. It wasn’t like she’d reveal anything to him, to anyone, that could somehow lead to Mitch finding them.

  The mountains rose in a semicircle around the flat basin where the ranch was situated, white streaks of snow decorating the peaks even at the end of June. There was a weathered-looking barn up ahead of them, and off to the right, a pond with a dock and a rowboat.

  This place drew her in. It was beautiful, and about as far from Little Rock as they could reasonably go, given the car she was driving. If she were just basing things on geography, she’d snap this job up in a minute.

  But the military angle worried her.

  “Would we live there?” Leo pointed. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but in it she detected a trace of excitement.

  They were approaching a small log cabin with a couple of rustic chairs on a narrow porch. As Finn had mentioned, it was the end of a row of similar structures. Sunlight glinted off its green tin roof. One of the shutters hung crooked, but other than that, the place looked sturdy enough.

  “This is the cabin you’d live in if this works out,” Finn said, glancing down at Leo and then at her. “The vet who lived here before just moved out, so it should be pretty clean. Come on in.”

  Inside, the cabin’s main room had a kitchen area—sink and refrigerator and stove—along the far wall. A door to one side looked like it led to a bathroom or closet. A simple, rough-hewn dining table, a couch and a couple of chairs filled up the rest of the small room. With some throw rugs and homemade curtains, it would be downright cozy.

  “Sleep
ing loft is upstairs,” Finn said, indicating a sturdy, oversize ladder.

  Leo’s head whipped around to look at Kayla. He loved to climb as much as any little boy.

  “Safe up there?” she asked Finn. “Anything that could hurt a kid?” She could already see that the sleeping area had a three-foot railing at the edge, which would prevent a fall.

  “It’s childproof.” His voice was gruff.

  “No guns, knives, nothing?” If Finn were like Mitch, he’d be fascinated by weapons. And he wouldn’t consider them a danger to a kid.

  “Of course not!” Finn looked so shocked and indignant that she believed him.

  “Go ahead—climb up and take a look,” she said to her son. Leo had been cooped up in the car during the past four days. She wanted to seize any possible opportunity for him to have fun.

  She stood at the bottom of the ladder and watched him climb, quick and agile. She heard his happy exclamation, and then his footsteps tapped overhead as he ran from one side of the loft to the other.

  Love for him gripped her hard. She’d find a way to make him a better life, whether here or somewhere else.

  “I’m not sure this is the right environment for a child,” Finn said in a low voice. He was standing close enough that she could smell his aftershave, some old-fashioned scent her favorite stepfather had used. “We need someone who’ll work hard, and if you’re distracted by a kid, you can’t.”

  “There’s a camp program at the church in Esperanza Springs. Thought we’d check that out.” Actually, she already had, online; they had daily activities, were open to five-year-olds and offered price breaks to low-income families.

  Which they definitely were.

  Finn didn’t say anything, and silent men made her nervous. “Leo,” she called, “come on down.”

  Her son scrambled down the ladder and pressed into her leg, looking warily at Finn.

  Curiosity flared in the big man’s eyes, but he didn’t ask questions. Instead, he walked over to the door and held it open. “I’ll show you the kennels.” His face softened as he looked down at Leo. “We have eighteen dogs right now.”