Читать онлайн книгу «The Soldier′s Redemption» автора Lee McClain

The Soldier's Redemption
Lee Tobin McClain
A second chance at family… in this Redemption Ranch novelBlaming 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.


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.
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 (http://leetobinmcclain.com).
Also By Lee Tobin McClain (#uf4ba159a-0994-5da8-b145-764b6fff002d)
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
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Soldier’s Redemption
Lee Tobin McClain


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08435-2
THE SOLDIER’S REDEMPTION
© 2018 Lee Tobin McClain
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“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.
Dear Reader (#uf4ba159a-0994-5da8-b145-764b6fff002d),
Thank you for visiting Redemption Ranch! I’m very excited about this brand-new series, where troubled veterans and abandoned senior dogs heal together...and where romance has the wide-open space to grow. Finn, Kayla and young Leo have plenty of challenges to overcome, but with God’s help they learn to love one another, becoming the happy family God intended them to be.
One reason I love writing Christian romance is that I can delve into big problematic issues. That’s partly because the pages that aren’t taken up by love scenes can be devoted to character development. But mostly, it’s because the difficult problems people face can be best solved by turning to God. Faith and faith communities are the healing forces that let Christian romances dive deep, and still come back for an uplifting, happy ending.
May your summer be filled with faith, love and good books,
Lee
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
Cover (#u29928f5f-0442-5389-ae3b-952c2f11004d)
Back Cover Text (#udfed2b66-33da-5d34-b4e3-09012419d653)
About the Author (#uce55e8c9-360b-5147-b8c8-cdc47e035e6e)
Booklist (#u80ba0d75-3658-5379-af52-48f6551200bb)
Title Page (#u251009b3-2436-5dfb-809d-3604536bf89f)
Copyright (#ud42d5985-3a6e-51ac-9637-5a2355d0206b)
Introduction (#u49973673-d748-541b-bbc5-8c429c5cb4c3)
Dear Reader (#u2742c6f5-b23b-5d80-8e41-d23886c7ed4d)
Bible Verse (#u7e587448-9aa0-525d-a135-fe0f500218d3)
Dedication (#uef331ea1-07ad-5691-a53f-2a581e807ac7)
Chapter One (#u002a43f5-c53b-5b56-9673-b96266a889a1)
Chapter Two (#u968e1b19-0d0c-5529-b3a0-04d3ec5c1c52)
Chapter Three (#uec45acae-7d3e-5501-89f8-b670a5e9b04e)
Chapter Four (#u8ac7a97e-497c-55ee-bca7-d33aa2982c83)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uf4ba159a-0994-5da8-b145-764b6fff002d)
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 future.
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.
“Sleeping 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.”
Leo didn’t speak, but he glanced up at Kayla and gave a little jump. She knew what it meant. Eighteen dogs would be a cornucopia of joy to him.
They headed along the road in front of the cabins. “Is he comfortable with dogs?” Finn asked.
“He hasn’t been around them much, but he’s liked the ones he’s met.” Loved, more like. A pet was one of the things she’d begged Mitch for, regularly. She’d wanted the companionship for Leo, because she’d determined soon after his birth that they’d never have another child. Fatherhood didn’t sit well with Mitch.
But Mitch hadn’t wanted a dog, and she’d known better than to go against him on that. She wouldn’t be the only one who’d suffer; the dog would, too, and Leo.
“We’re low on residents right now,” Finn said. He waved a hand toward a rustic, hotel-like structure half-hidden by the curve of a hill. “Couple of guys live in the old lodge. Help us do repairs, when they have time. But they both work days and aren’t around a whole lot.”
“You going to fill the place up?”
“Slowly, as we get the physical structures back up to code. These two cabins are unoccupied.” He gestured to the two that were next to the one he’d just shown them. The corner of one was caving in, and its porch looked unstable. She’d definitely have to set some limits on where Leo could play, in the event that this worked out. “This next one, guy named Parker lives there, but he’s away. His mom’s real sick. I’m not sure when he’ll be back.”
Across the morning air, the sound of banjo and guitar music wafted, surprising her. She looked down at Leo, whose head was cocked to one side.
They found the source of the music on the porch of the last cabin, and as they came close, the men playing the instruments stopped. “Who you got there?” came a raspy voice.
Finn half turned to her. “Come meet Willie and Long John. Willie lives in the cabin next door, but he spends most of his time with Long John. If you work here, you’ll see a lot of them.”
As they approached the steps, the two men got to their feet. They both looked to be in their later sixties. The tall, skinny, balding one who’d struggled getting up had to be Long John, which meant the short, heavyset one, with a full white beard, his salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a ponytail, must be Willie. Both wore black Vietnam veteran baseball caps.
Finn introduced them and explained why Kayla was here.
“Hope you’ll take the job,” Long John said. “We could use some help with the dogs.”
“And it’d improve the view around here,” Willie said, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth beneath the beard.
Finn cleared his throat and glared at the older man.
Willie just grinned and eased down onto the cabin’s steps. At eye level with Leo, he held out a hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, young man,” he said.
“Shake hands,” Kayla urged, and Leo held out his right hand.
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, and Kayla felt a surge of pride at his manners.
After a grave handshake, Willie looked up at her. “Wouldn’t mind having a little guy around here. Always did like to take my grandkids fishing.” He waved an arm in the direction of the pond she’d seen. “We keep it stocked.”
Kayla’s heart melted, just at the edges. Grandfather figures for Leo? A chance for him to learn to fish?
There was a low woof from inside the screen door and a responding one from the porch. A large black dog she hadn’t seen before lumbered to its feet.
“About time you noticed there’s some new folks here,” Long John said, reaching from his chair to run a hand over the black dog’s bony spine. “Rockette, here, don’t pay a whole lot of attention to the world these days. Not unless her friend Duke wakes her up.”
Willie opened the screen door. A gray-muzzled pit bull sauntered out.
“Duke. Sit.” Willie made a hand gesture, and Duke obediently dropped to his haunches, his tongue lolling out. Willie slipped a treat from the pocket of his baggy jeans and fed it to the dog.
Leo took two steps closer to the old black dog, reached out and touched its side with the tips of his fingers.
“One of our agreements, for anyone who lives in the cabins, is that they take in a dog,” Finn explained. “Gives them a little extra attention. Especially the ones not likely to be adopted.”
Leo tugged Kayla’s hand. “Would we have a dog?”
“Maybe.” She put seriousness into her voice so he wouldn’t get his hopes up. “It all depends if Mr. Gallagher decides to offer me the job, and if I take it. Those are grown-up decisions.”
“Sure could use the help,” Long John said, lowering himself back into his chair with a stifled groan. “Me and Willie been doing our best, but...” He waved a hand at a walker folded against the porch railing. “With my Parkinson’s, it’s not that easy.”
“Hardly anyone else has applied,” Willie added. “Don’t get many out-of-towners around these parts. And the people who live in Esperanza Springs heard we’re gonna have more guys up here. They get skittish.” He winked at Kayla. “We vets are gentle as lambs, though, once you get to know us.”
“Right.” She had direct experience to the contrary.
At first, before her marriage had gone so far downhill, she hadn’t translated Mitch’s problems into a mistrust of all military personnel. Later, it had been impossible to avoid doing just that.
When Mitch had pushed his way into her place well after their divorce was final—talking crazy and roughing her up—she’d gone to the police.
She hadn’t wanted to file a complaint, which had been stupid. She’d just wanted to know her options, whether a protection order would do any good.
What she hadn’t known was that the police officer she’d spoken with was army, too. Hadn’t known he drank with Mitch at the Legion.
The cop had let Mitch know that she’d reported him, and she still bore the bruises from when he’d come back over to her place, enraged, looking for blood.
Shaking off her thoughts, she watched Long John talk with Finn while Willie plucked at his guitar and then held it out to show Leo. The two veterans did exude a gentle vibe. But then, their wartime experiences were distant, their aggressions most likely tamed through age and experience.
“Let’s take a look at the kennels,” Finn said and nodded toward the barn. “Later, guys.”
Just outside the barn, Finn turned and gestured for Leo to stand in front of him. After a nod from Kayla, Leo did, his eyes lowered, shoulders frozen in a slump.
“I want you to ask before you touch a dog, Leo,” he said. “Most of them are real nice, but a couple are nervous enough to lash out. So ask an adult first, and never, ever open a kennel without an adult there to help you. Understand?”
Leo nodded, taking a step closer to Kayla.
“Good.” Finn turned toward the barn door and beckoned for them to follow him.
Much barking greeted their entry into the dim barn. Finn flicked on a light, revealing kennels along both sides of the old structure and more halfway up the middle. One end of the barn was walled off into what looked like an office.
Finn walked down the row of dogs, telling her their names, reaching through some of the wire fencing to stroke noses. His fondness for the animals was obvious in his tone and his gentle touch. “All of them are seniors,” he explained over his shoulder. “Which is about seven and up for a big dog, eight or nine for a little one.”
“Where do they come from?” she asked. The barking had died down, and most of the dogs stood at the gates of their kennels, tails wagging, eyes begging for attention.
“Owner surrenders, mostly. Couple of strays.”
She knelt to look at a red-gold dog, probably an Irish setter mix. “Why would anyone give you up, sweetie?” She reached between the cage wires to touch the dog’s white muzzle, seeming to read sadness in its eyes.
“Lots of reasons,” Finn said. “People move. Or they don’t have money for food and vet bills. Sometimes, they just don’t want to deal with a dog that requires some extra care.” He knelt beside her. “Lola, here, she can’t make it up and down stairs. Her owner lived in a two-story house, so...”
“They couldn’t carry her up and down?”
“Apparently not.”
“Can I pet her, too, Mom?” Leo asked, forgetting to be quiet.
Kayla looked over at Finn. “Can he?”
“She’s harmless. Go ahead.”
As Leo stuck fingers into the cage of the tail-wagging Lola, Finn turned toward Kayla. “Most of our dogs are really gentle, just like I was telling Leo. The ones that are reactive have a red star on their cages.” He pointed to one on the cage of a medium-sized brown dog, some kind of Doberman mix. “Those, you both stay away from. If the job works out, we’ll talk about getting you some training for handling difficult dogs.”
If the job worked out. Would it work out? Did she want it to?
Finn had moved farther down the row of cages, and he made a small sound of concern and opened one, guiding a black cocker spaniel out and attaching a leash to her collar. He bent over the little dog, rubbing his hands up and down her sides. “It’s okay,” he murmured as the dog wagged her tail and leaned against him. “You’re okay.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Her cage is a mess. She knocked over her water and spilled her food.” He scratched behind her ears. “Never has an accident, though, do you, girl?”
Kayla felt her shoulders loosen just a fraction. If Finn was that kind and gentle with a little dog, maybe he was a safe person to be around.
“Could you hold her leash while I clean up her cage?” he asked, looking over at Kayla. “In fact, if you wouldn’t mind, she needs to go outside.”
“No problem.” She moved to take the leash and knelt down, Leo hurrying to her side.
“Careful,” Finn warned. “She’s blind and mostly deaf. You have to guide her or she’ll run into things.”
“How can she walk?” Leo asked, squatting down beside Kayla and petting the dog’s back as Finn had done. “Mom, feel her! She’s soft!”
Kayla put her hand in the dog’s fur, shiny and luxuriant. “She is soft.”
“She still has a good sense of smell,” Finn explained to Leo. “And the sun and grass feel good to her. You’ll see.” He gestured toward the door at the opposite end of the barn. “There’s a nice meadow out there where the dogs can run.”
She and Leo walked toward the barn’s door, guiding the dog around an ancient tractor and bins of dog food. In the bright meadow outside, Kayla inhaled the sweet, pungent scents of pine and wildflowers.
“Look, Mom, she’s on her back!” Leo said. “She likes it out here!”
Kayla nodded, kneeling beside Leo to watch the little black dog’s ecstatic rolling and arching. “She sure does. No matter that she has some problems—nobody likes to be in a cage.”
A few minutes later, Finn came out, leading another dog. “I see you’ve figured out her favorite activity,” he said. “Thanks for helping.”
The dog he was leading, some kind of a beagle-basset mix, nudged the blind dog, and they sniffed each other. Then the hound jumped up and bumped her to the ground.
“He’s hurting her!” Leo cried and stepped toward the pair.
“Let them be.” Finn’s hands came down on Leo’s shoulders, gently stopping him.
Leo edged away and stood close to Kayla.
Finn lifted an eyebrow and then smiled reassuringly at Leo. “She’s a real friendly dog and likes to play. Wish I could find someone to adopt her, but with her disabilities, it’s hard. Willie and Long John can only handle one dog each. I have one of our problem dogs at my place—” He waved off toward a small house next to a bigger one, in the direction of the lodge. “And Penny—she owns the ranch—has another at hers. So for now, this girl stays in the kennel.”
If she and Leo stayed here, maybe they could take the black dog in. That would certainly make Leo happy. He’d sunk down to roll on the ground with the dogs, laughing as they licked his face, acting like a puppy himself. He hadn’t smiled so much in weeks.
And Kayla, who always weighed her choices carefully, who’d spent a year planning how to divorce Mitch, made a snap decision.
This place was safe. It was remote. Mitch would never find them. And maybe Leo could have a decent childhood for a while. Not forever, she didn’t expect that, but a little bit of a safe haven.
She looked over at Finn. He was smiling, too, watching Leo. It softened his hard-planed, square face, made him almost handsome. But as he watched, his mouth twisted a little, and his sea-blue eyes got distant.
She didn’t want him to sink into a bad mood. That was never good. “If I can arrange for the summer camp for Leo,” she said, “I’d be very interested in the job.”
He looked at her, then at Leo, and then at the distant mountains. “There’s paperwork, a reference check, drug tests. All that would have to be taken care of before we could offer you anything permanent.”
“Not a problem.” Not only did she have good references, but they were sworn to secrecy as to her whereabouts.
“I’ll have to talk to our owner, too.” His voice held reluctance.
Time to be blunt. “Is there some kind of problem you see in hiring me?”
“I’m withholding judgment,” he said. “But we do need someone soon, since our last assistant quit. Until everything’s finalized, how about a one-week trial?”
“That works.” Even if the job didn’t come together, she and Leo would get a week off the road.
With dogs.
Meanwhile, Finn’s extreme caution made her curious. “You never did mention what branch of the military you served in,” she said as he bent over to put leashes back on the two tired-out dogs.
“Eighty-second Airborne.”
Kayla sat down abruptly beside Leo, pulling her knees to herself on the grassy ground. She knew God was good and had a plan, but sometimes it seemed like He was toying with her.
Because this perfect new job meant involvement with a man from the same small, intensely loyal division of the US Army as her abusive ex.
Chapter Two (#uf4ba159a-0994-5da8-b145-764b6fff002d)
“You sure you’re not making a big mistake?” Penny Jordan asked Finn two days later.
It was Saturday afternoon, and they were sitting in Penny’s office, watching out the window as Kayla’s subcompact sputtered up the dirt road to cabin six, leaving a trail of black exhaust in its wake.
“No.” Finn watched as Kayla exited the car and opened the back door. Leo climbed out, and they opened the hatch and stood, surveying its contents. Leo looked up at her, listening seriously, like an adult. “I think it probably is a mistake, but I couldn’t talk her out of wanting the job. So I went with the one-week trial.”
“But she’s moving in.” Penny, ten years older than Finn but at least twenty times wiser, took a gulp of black coffee from her oversize cup. “That doesn’t seem like a trial thing to do.”
“They were staying at the campground up toward Harmony.” He eased his leg off the chair where he’d been resting it, grimacing. “Afternoon thunderstorms are getting bad. At least they’ll have a roof over their heads.”
“You’re skirting the issue.” Penny leaned forward, elbows on the table. “She has a young son.”
“I know, and even though she says she’s got a plan for childcare, I don’t know that it’s safe for him—”
“Finn.” Penny put a hand on his arm. “You know what I’m talking about.”
He wasn’t going there. “Guess I’d better get up there and help ’em move in.”
“You’re going to have to face what happened one of these days,” she said, standing up with her trademark speed and grace. “I’ll come, too. Gotta meet the woman who broke through your three-foot-thick walls.”
“She didn’t break through—it’s a trial,” he emphasized. “She knows the deal. And yes, you should meet her, because when she’s not working kennels she can do housekeeping for you. Free you up for the real work.”
Penny put her hands on her hips and arched forward and sideways, stretching her back. She was slim, with one long braid down her back and fine wrinkles fanning out from the corners of her eyes, the result of years spent outdoors in the Western sun. Not a trace of makeup, but she didn’t need it; she was naturally pretty. Big heart, too.
She didn’t deserve what had happened to her.
“Speaking of the real work,” she said, “we might have two more vets coming in within the next six weeks.”
“Oh?”
“Guy’s classic PTSD, right out of Iraq. The woman...” Penny shook her head. “She’s been through it. Scarred up almost as bad as Daniela was.” Penny walked over to the window and looked out, her forehead wrinkling. “I’m going to put her in the cabin next to your new hire. She’ll be more comfortable farther away from the guys.”
Finn nodded. Daniela Jiminez had only recently left the ranch to marry another short-term resident, Gabriel Shafer. They’d stopped in to visit after their honeymoon, and their obvious joy mostly made Finn happy. He’d never experience that for himself, didn’t deserve to, but he was glad to have had a small part in getting Gabe and Daniela together.
They walked down the sunny lane to the cabins. Finn kept up with Penny’s quick stride even though he wasn’t using his cane; it was a good day.
When they were halfway down, Willie’s truck came toward them and glided to a halt. “Hitting the roadhouse for dinner and then a little boot scootin’,” Willie said out the window. “You should come along, Finn. Meet somebody.”
Penny rolled her eyes. “Men.”
“Like Finn’s gonna get a lady friend,” Long John said from the passenger seat.
“You think you’ve got better odds?” Finn asked, meaning it as a joke. Everyone knew he didn’t go out, didn’t date. Those who pushed had gotten their heads bitten off and learned a lesson. Willie and Long John, though, were more persistent than most.
“We’ve both got better odds because we know how to smile and socialize,” Willie said. “Ladies around here love us.”
That was probably true. Unlike Finn, they both had the capacity for connection, the ability to form good relationships. He, on the other hand, didn’t have the personality that meshed easily with a woman’s. Too quiet, too serious. Deirdre had thrown that fact at him every time he caught her cheating.
“Y’all be careful, now,” Penny said, giving the two men a stern look. “You know we don’t hold with drinking at the ranch, and that roadhouse is the eye of the storm.”
“Rum and coke, hold the rum,” Willie promised.
“Scout’s honor,” Long John said, holding up a hand in mock salute.
The truck pulled away, and a couple of minutes later Finn and Penny reached the cabin driveway where Kayla was unloading her car. She put down her box, picked up a red rubber ball and squatted in front of her son. “You say hello,” she told the boy, “and then you can go throw the ball against the house.”
The little boy swallowed, and his eyes darted in their direction and away. “Hi,” he said and then grabbed the ball and ran to the side of the cabin.
“He’s a little shy,” Kayla said. She extended a hand to Penny. “I’m Kayla White. Are you Penny?”
“That’s right.” Penny gave Kayla a frank appraisal. “I’m glad to meet you. Looking forward to having a little help around here. See how you like the work. And how the work likes you. Cleaning up after dogs isn’t for everyone.”
“I’ve done worse.” Kayla’s color rose, like she’d read a challenge under Penny’s words. “I appreciate the chance to stay in the cabin, but we’re not going to really settle in until the trial week’s over. I know the job wasn’t intended for a mother and child.”
“Sometimes the Good Lord surprises us,” Penny said. “Now, what can we do to help you move in?”
“Not a thing.” Kayla brushed her hands on the sides of her jeans. “I’m about done. And I can do some work tomorrow, although it’ll be limited by Leo. I’m going to have him try that church camp on Monday.” She shaded her eyes to watch her son as he threw the ball against the house, caught it and threw it again.
Looking at young Leo, Finn felt the lid on his memories start to come loose. Derek had loved to play ball, too. Finn had spent a lot of time teaching him to throw and catch and use a bat. Things a father was supposed to teach his son.
His throat tightened, and he coughed to clear it. “We’ll take care of the work your first day here. You can start on Monday.” He was feeling the urge to be away from her and her child.
She looked from Finn to Penny. “Well, but you’re giving me a place to stay early. I don’t want to be beholden.” She pushed back a strand of chocolate hair that had escaped her ponytail and fallen into her eyes.
She was compact, but strong, with looks that grew on you slowly. Good thing she wasn’t his type. Back when he was in the market for a woman, he’d gone for bigger, bouncier, louder ladies. The fun kind.
Yeah, and look where that got you.
“I’m with Finn on having you start Monday, but I’ll tell you what,” Penny said. “We all go down to church on Sundays. Why don’t you join us? It’ll give your son a chance to get to know some of the other kids while you’re still nearby. That should make his first day at camp a little easier.”
Finn turned his face so Kayla couldn’t see it and glared at Penny. Yeah, he’d hired Kayla—temporarily—but that didn’t mean they had to get all chummy in their time off.
Still, it was church. He supposed he ought to be more welcoming. And he knew Penny missed her grown daughter, who for inexplicable reasons had sided with her father when Penny’s marriage had broken up. If Penny wanted to mother Kayla a little, he shouldn’t get in the way.
Kayla bit her lip. “I’d like to get Leo to church,” she said. “We went some back home, but...well. It wasn’t as often as I’d have liked. I want to change that, now.”
So she’d be coming to church with them every Sunday if she took the job? It wasn’t as if there was much of a choice; Esperanza Springs had only two churches, so it was fifty-fifty odds she’d choose theirs.
Unless she wanted to get some breathing room, too.
Or maybe she’d leave after a week. He intended to make sure the work was hard and long, so that she didn’t get too comfortable here.
Because something about Kayla White was making him feel anything but comfortable.
* * *
As the church service ended in a burst of uplifting piano music, Kayla leaned back in the pew. Her whole body felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Months, really.
The little church had plain padded benches and a rough-hewn altar. Outside the clear glass windows, the splendor of the mountains put to shame any human effort at stained glass artistry.
Leo had sat with her for half the service, reluctantly gone up to the children’s sermon and then followed the other kids out of the sanctuary with a desperate look back at Kayla. She’d forced herself not to rescue him and had made it ten minutes before giving in to her worries and going to check on him. She’d found him busily making crafts with the other young children, looking, if not happy, at least focused.
Now beside her Penny stretched, stood and then sat back down. “Hey, I forgot to mention that Finn and I help serve lunch after church to the congregation and some hard-up folks in the community. Would you like to join us? If you don’t feel like working, you can just mingle until lunch is served.”
The pastor—young, tanned and exuberant—had been visiting with the few people remaining in the pews, and he reached them just as Penny finished speaking. “We find we get more people to come to church when we offer a free meal,” he said and held out a hand to Kayla. “Welcome. We’re glad to have you here. I’m Carson Blair.”
“Kayla White. I enjoyed your sermon.”
He was opening his mouth to reply when two little girls, who looked to be a bit older than Leo, ran down the aisle at breakneck speed. They flung themselves at the pastor, one clinging to each leg, identical pouts on their faces.
“Daddy, she hit me!”
“She started it!”
The pastor knelt down. “Skye, you need to go sit right there.” He indicated a pew on the left-hand side. “And, Sunny, you sit over here.” He pointed to the right.
“But...”
“We wanted to play!” The one he’d called Sunny looked mournfully at her twin.
“Sit quietly for five minutes, and you can play together again.”
Kayla smiled as the pastor turned back toward the small circle of adults. “Good tactics,” she said. “I have a five-year-old. I can’t imagine handling two.”
Finn pushed himself out of the pew and ended up standing next to Kayla, leaning on his cane, facing the pastor. “Had a phone message from you,” he said to the pastor. “I’m sorry I didn’t return it. Weekend got away from me.”
“We all know your aversion to the phone,” the pastor said, reaching out to shake Finn’s extended hand.
“To conversation in general,” Penny said. “Finn’s the strong, silent type,” she added to Kayla.
“Don’t listen to them,” Finn advised and then turned back toward the pastor. “What’s up?”
“I was hoping to talk to you about your chaplain position. I know you can’t pay yet, but I’d be glad to conduct vespers once a week, or do a little counseling, as long as it doesn’t take away from my work here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Finn’s answer didn’t seem very gracious for someone who’d just been offered volunteer services.
The pastor looked at him steadily. “Do that.”
“We certainly will,” Penny said. “But speaking of work, that lunch won’t get served without us. You coming?” she asked Kayla.
“Absolutely. Lunch smells wonderful. I’m happy to help, if it will get me a plate of whatever’s cooking.”
“We all partake,” the pastor said, shaking her hand again vigorously. “We’re glad to have you here. It’s rare that we get a fresh face.”
“Won’t be so rare soon,” Penny warned. “We have a couple of new veterans coming in. And I’m working on getting Long John and Willie to church, too.”
“You know the church does a van run,” the pastor said. “Sounds like you’ll need it. And we’ll gladly welcome the men and women who served our country.”
Finn jerked his head to the side. “Let’s go.”
In the church kitchen, organized chaos reigned. Finn handed aprons to Kayla and Penny and then donned one himself, choosing it from a special hook labeled with his name.
“Why do you get your own apron?” she asked, because there didn’t seem to be anything special about it.
“It’s king-size,” he said ruefully. “Those little things barely cover a quarter of me. Last Christmas, the volunteers went together to buy me this tent.”
“And in return,” a white-haired woman said, “we make him carry all the heavy trays and boxes. Isn’t that right, Finn?”
“Glad to, as long as you save me a piece of your strawberry-rhubarb pie, Mrs. Barnes.”
Kayla was put to work dishing up little bowls of fruit salad while Penny helped Mrs. Barnes get everyone seated and Finn pulled steaming trays of chicken and rice from the ovens. A couple of other ladies carried baskets of rolls to each table and mingled with the guests, probably fifty or sixty people in all.
It wasn’t a fancy church. As many of the congregation members wore jeans as dresses and suits, and seating for the meal was open. That meant there was no distinction between those who’d come just for the food and those who’d come for the service first. Nice.
The children burst into the room and took over one corner, stocked with toys and a big rug. Kayla waited a minute and then went to check on Leo. She found him banging action figures with another kid in a zealous pretend fight.
“Hey, buddy,” she said quietly, touching his shoulder.
He flinched and turned. She hated that he did that. No matter what, she was going to make sure he gained confidence and stopped feeling like he was at risk all the time. Mitch had never hit him, to her knowledge, but yelling and belittling were almost as bad. And that last time, when he’d broken into their place and beaten Kayla, she’d looked up from the floor to see Leo crouched in the doorway, pale and silent, tears running down his cheeks.
“Leo is quiet, but he seems to fit in,” said the woman who’d run the children’s program. “He’s a very polite little boy. I understand he’s going to do the day camp, too?”
Kayla nodded. “Thank you for taking care of him.”
“He’s welcome to sit at the kids’ table and eat. Most of the children do, though a few go sit with their parents.”
Kayla turned back to Leo. “What do you think, buddy? Want to sit here with your new friends, or come sit with me and Miss Penny and Mr. Finn?”
Leo considered.
The other boy whacked his action figure. “ATTACK!” he yelled.
Leo made his figure strike back, and the other boy fell on the floor, pretending he’d been struck.
“I’ll stay with the kids,” Leo said and dived down to the floor to make his action figure engage in some hand-to-hand combat with the one the other boy was holding.
Kayla watched them play for a moment as realization struck her. If she did, indeed, build a better life for Leo, it would mean he’d become more and more independent. He wouldn’t be tied to her by fear. He’d have regular friendships, sleepovers at other boys’ homes, camping trips.
And where did that leave her, who’d centered her life around protecting her son for the past five years?
It’ll leave me right where I should be, she told herself firmly. It would be good, normal, for Leo to gain independence. And if that made her nostalgic for his baby years of total reliance on her, that was normal, too. She could focus on the healthy ways parents and children related, instead of walking on eggshells to avoid offending Mitch.
The lunch went quickly, partly because the serving staff ate in shifts and then hurried back to the kitchen to help with refills and cleanup. Kayla didn’t mind. She liked the camaraderie of working with others. And she liked having her stomach—and her son’s—full of delicious, healthy food.
She was washing dishes when Mrs. Barnes came up beside her, towel in hand. “I’ll dry and put away,” she said. “Where are you from, dear?”
“Arkansas,” Kayla said vaguely. “Small town.” Mrs. Barnes seemed harmless, but Kayla didn’t want to get into the habit of revealing too much.
“And what brought you to Esperanza Springs? We don’t get a whole lot of newcomers.”
Kayla was conscious of Finn nearby, carrying big empty serving dishes back to the sinks to be washed. “I was looking for a change,” she said. “I’ve always loved the mountains, so we thought we’d take our chances in Colorado.”
“And what did you do back in Arkansas?”
Kayla didn’t see malice in the other woman’s eyes, only a little too much curiosity. “I worked for a cleaning company,” she said. “Cleaning houses and offices and such.” No need to mention that she’d started it, and that it had been doing well. She hoped Janice, who’d taken it over, was managing okay. She’d been avoiding calling her, afraid word would get back to Mitch, but she needed to stop being afraid. She’d call Janice tonight.
The kitchen was getting hotter, and Kayla dried off her hands and unbuttoned her sleeves. As she rolled them up, Mrs. Barnes went still. Behind her, Finn stared, too.
Too late, she looked down and saw her arms, still a traffic wreck of bruises.
“Oh, my, dear, what happened?” Mrs. Barnes put a gentle hand on Kayla’s shoulder.
She didn’t look at either of them. “I fell.”
It wasn’t a lie. Each time Mitch had hit her, she’d fallen.
Someone called Mrs. Barnes to the serving counter. She squeezed Kayla’s shoulder and then turned away, leaving Finn and Kayla standing at the sink.
He frowned at her, putting his hands on his hips. “If someone hurt you—”
An Eighty-second Airborne tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve of his shirt. The same tattoo Mitch had.
She took a step backward. “I need to go check on Leo,” she said abruptly and practically ran out of the kitchen, rolling down her sleeves as she went.
Leo was drawing pictures with the same boy he’d been playing with before, but he jumped up and hugged her when she approached. “Mom! Hector goes to the day camp here, too! He’s gonna get me the cubby next to his and bring his Skytrooper tomorrow!” He flopped back down on the floor, propped on his arms, drawing on the same large piece of paper as his new friend.
“That’s great, honey.” Kayla backed away and looked from Leo to the kitchen and back again. She was well and truly caught.
Her whole goal was to provide a safe, happy home for Leo. And it looked like maybe she’d found that place. The ranch, the dogs, the church people, all were bringing out her son’s relaxed, happy side—a side she’d almost forgotten he had.
But on the other hand, there was Finn—a dangerous man by virtue of his association with Mitch’s favorite, dedicated social circle. She knew how the Eighty-second worked.
She grabbed a sponge and started wiping down tables, thinking.
Finn had seen her bruises and gotten suspicious. If she let slip too much information, he might just get in touch with Mitch.
On the other hand, maybe his tattoo was old and so was his allegiance. Maybe he’d gotten involved in broader veterans affairs. Not everyone stayed focused on their own little division of the service.
She had to find out more about Finn and how committed he was to his paratrooper brothers. And she had to do it quickly. Because Leo was already starting to get attached to this place, and truthfully, so was she.
But she couldn’t let down her guard. She had to learn more.
As she wiped a table, hypnotically, over and over, she concocted a plan. Once she’d finalized it, she felt better.
By this evening, one way or another, she’d have the answer about whether or not they could stay. For Leo’s sake, she hoped the answer was yes.
Chapter Three (#uf4ba159a-0994-5da8-b145-764b6fff002d)
Late Sunday afternoon, Finn settled into his recliner and put his legs up. He clicked on a baseball game and tried to stop thinking.
It didn’t work.
He kept going back to those bruises on Kayla’s arms, the defensive secrecy in her eyes. All of it pretty much advertised a victim of abuse.
If that were the case, he was in trouble. His primary responsibility was to the veterans here, and some angry guy coming in to drag Kayla away would up the potential for violence among a group of men who’d seen too much of it.
That was bad.
But worse, he was starting to feel responsible for Kayla and the boy. They were plucky but basically defenseless. They needed protection.
If he sent them away, he’d be putting them at risk.
His phone buzzed, a welcome break from his worries. He clicked to answer. “Gallagher.”
“Somethin’ curious just happened.” It was Long John’s voice.
Finn settled back into his chair. “What’s that, buddy?” Unlike Willie, Long John had no family, and with his Agent Orange–induced Parkinson’s, he couldn’t get out a lot. He tended to call Finn with reports of a herd of elk, or an upcoming storm, or a recommendation about caring for one of the dogs.
It was fine, good, even. Finn didn’t have much family himself, none here in Colorado, and providing a listening ear to lonely vets gave him a sense of purpose.
Long John cleared his throat. “That Kayla is mighty interested in you.”
“What do you mean?” For just a second, he thought Long John meant romantic interest, but then he realized that wasn’t likely to be the case. Kayla was young, pretty and preoccupied with her own problems. She wouldn’t want to hook up with someone like him. Long John was probably just creating drama out of boredom.
“She came over for a little chat,” Long John said. “Talked about the weather a bit and then got right into questions about you.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Where’d you serve. How active are you in the local chapter. How many of your military buddies come around. Did you ever do anything with the Eighty-second on the national level. That kind of stuff.”
“Weird.” Especially since she’d seemed to have an aversion to all things military.
“Not sure what to make of it,” Long John said. “She’s a real nice gal, but still. All kinds of people trying to take advantage. Thought you should know.”
“Thanks.” He chatted to the older man for a few more minutes and then ended the call.
Restless now, he strode out onto his porch. The plot thickened around Kayla. If she’d been treated badly by someone, why would she now be seeking information about Finn? Was she still attached to her abuser? Was he making her gather information for some reason?
As he sat down on the porch steps to rub his leg—today was a bad day—he saw Kayla sitting with Penny at the picnic table beside Penny’s house. Talking intently.
More information gathering?
Leo played nearby, some engrossing five-year-old game involving rocks and a lot of shouting. Kid needed a playmate. They should invite the pastor’s little girls up here.
Except thinking of the widowed pastor hanging around Kayla rubbed him the wrong way.
And why should any of that matter to him? Impatient with himself, he got down on the ground and started pulling up the weeds that were getting out of control around the foundation of his place, like everywhere else on the ranch. Kayla wasn’t his concern. She was here on a temporary pass. And even if they did give her the full-time job—which he still questioned—he didn’t need to get involved in how she ran her life and raised her kid.
Penny stood and waved to him. “I’ll be inside, doing some paperwork, if anybody needs me,” she called.
He stood, gave her a thumbs-up and watched her walk inside. That was how they ran the place, spelling each other, letting each other know what they were doing. It’d be quiet on a Sunday, but they liked for at least one of them to be on call, phone on, ready to help as needed.
From the garden area just behind him, he heard a thump, a wail—“Mommy!”—and then the sound of crying. Leo. Finn spun and went to the boy, who was kneeling on the ground where Finn had been digging. His hand was bleeding and his face wet with tears.
Finn beckoned to Kayla, who’d jumped up from the picnic table, and then knelt awkwardly beside the little boy. “Hey, son, what happened?”
Leo cringed away, his eyebrows drawing together, and cried harder.
“Leo!” Kayla arrived, sank down and drew Leo into her arms. “Oh, no, honey, what happened?”
“It hurts!” Leo clutched his bloody hand to his chest.
“Let me see.”
The little boy held up his hand to show her, but the sight of it made him wail louder. “I’m bleeding!”
Kayla leaned in and examined the wound, and Finn did, too. Fortunately, it didn’t look too serious. The bleeding was already stopping. “Looks like he might have cut it on the weed digger. Is that what happened, buddy?”
The boy nodded, still gulping and gasping.
“I have bandages and antibiotic cream inside, if you want to bring him in.” He knew better than to offer to carry the boy. Only a mother would do at a time like this.
Kayla got to her feet and swung Leo up into her arms. “Come on. Let’s fix you up.”
There was a buzzing sound, and Finn felt for his phone.
“It’s mine,” Kayla said. “I’ll get it later.”
“You can sit in there.” Finn indicated the kitchen. “I’ll grab the stuff.”
Moments later, he was back downstairs with every size of Band-Aid in his cupboard and three different types of medical ointment.
Kayla had Leo sitting on the edge of the sink and was rinsing his hand.
Leo howled like he was being tortured.
“I know, honey, it hurts, but we have to clean it. There. Now it’ll start feeling better.” She wrapped a paper towel around the boy’s hand and lifted him easily from the sink to a kitchen chair.
She’d been right. She was stronger than she looked, because Leo wasn’t small.
“Let’s see,” Finn said, giving the little boy a reassuring smile.
Leo shrank away and held his hand against his chest.
“I won’t touch it. I just want to look.” To Kayla he added, “I have first-aid training from the service. But it’s probably fine. Your call.”
“Let Mr. Finn look, honey. Let’s count one-two-three and then do the hard thing. Ready?”
Leo looked up, leaned into her and nodded. “Okay.”
Together, they counted. “One, two, three.” And then Leo squeezed his eyes shut and held out his hand.
Finn studied the small hand, the superficial cut across two fingers. He opened his mouth to reassure Kayla and Leo.
And then memory crashed in.
He’d put a Band-Aid on Derek’s hand, not long before the accident. He’d cuddled the boy to his chest as he held the little hand—just like Leo’s—in his own larger one. Carefully squeezed the antibiotic on the small scrape, added a superhero Band-Aid and wiped his son’s tears.
“It looks fine,” he said to Kayla through a suddenly tight throat. “You go ahead and dress it.” He shoved the materials at her, limped over to the window and looked out, trying to compose himself.
Normally, he kept a lid on his emotions about his son. Especially his son. Deirdre, yes, he grieved losing her, but she was an adult and she’d made a lot of bad choices that had contributed to her death.
His son had been an innocent victim.
“There. All fixed!” Kayla’s voice was perky and upbeat. “You keep that Band-Aid on, now. Don’t go showing that cut to your friends. It’s a big one.”
“It is big,” Leo said, his voice steadying. “I was brave, wasn’t I, Mommy?”
Finn turned back in time to see her hug him. “You were super brave. Good job.”
Leo came over to Finn and, from a safe distance, held up his hand. “See? It was a really big cut!”
“It sure was,” Finn said and then cleared the roughness out of his throat. “Sorry I don’t have any fun Band-Aids. Not many kids come around here.”
And there was a good reason for that. Having little boys around would tear him apart.
Change the subject. “You want to watch TV for a few minutes, buddy? I need to talk to your mom.”
Leo’s head jerked around to look at Kayla. “Can I, Mom?”
She hesitated. “I guess, for a few minutes. If we can find a decent show.” She looked at Finn pointedly. “I actually don’t allow him to watch much TV.”
“Sorry.” He headed into the living room and clicked the TV on, found a cartoonish-looking show that he remembered his son liking and looked at Kayla. “This okay?”
She squinted at the TV. “Yeah. Sure.”
Her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it.
In the kitchen, she looked at him with two vertical lines between her eyebrows. “What’s up?”
“Why’d you grill Long John about me?” he asked her abruptly.
* * *
At the sharp question from Finn, Kayla’s mind reeled. “What do you mean?” she asked, buying time.
She knew exactly what he meant.
Long John must have gotten on the phone the moment she’d left his cabin. And wasn’t that just like a soldier, to report anything and everything to his military buddies.
They’re friends, an inner voice reminded her. She’d just met Long John, while Finn had probably known him for months if not years.
Finn let out a sigh. “Long John let me know you were asking all kinds of questions about me. I wondered why.”
She studied him for signs of out-of-control anger and saw none. In which case, the best defense was a good offense. “You have a problem with me checking my employer’s references the same way you and Penny are checking mine?” she bluffed.
He looked at her for a moment. “No. That’s not a problem. It’s just that some of your questions seemed pointed. All about my military service.”
“That’s part of your background,” she said.
Finn shook his head. “I’m just not comfortable with having you here if you have any sort of attitude toward the military,” he said. “The veterans are the most important thing to us, and believe it or not, they’re sensitive. Especially the ones we get here. I don’t need a worker who’s cringing away from them or, on the other hand, overly curious.”
She nodded. “That makes sense.” She should have known this wouldn’t work. It was too perfect.
The thought of going back on the road filled her with anxiety, though. Her supply of money was dwindling, and so was Leo’s patience.
This place was perfect for Leo.
She tried to hang on to the pastor’s words from this morning. What was the verse? I know the plans I have for you...
God has a plan for us.
She straightened her spine. “We’ll get our things together tonight and move on tomorrow.”
Her phone buzzed for about the twentieth time. Impatient, she pulled it out. She read through the texts from her friend Janice, back in Arkansas, her anxiety growing.
Don’t come back under any circumstances.
He tore up your place.
He’s raving that he’s going to find you.
Get a PFA, fast.
She sank into a kitchen chair, her hand pressed to her mouth, her heart pounding. What was she going to do now?
“Listen, Kayla, I didn’t mean you had to leave this minute,” Finn said. “You can stay out the week, like we discussed. We can even help you figure out your next step. I just don’t think...” He paused.
There was a brisk knock at the screen door, and then Penny walked in. “I called the last reference, and they raved about you,” she said to Kayla. “So as far as I’m concerned, you’re hired.”
Kayla glanced up at Finn in time to see his forehead wrinkle. “Temporarily,” he said.
“Long-term, as far as I’m concerned.” Penny gave him an even stare.
“We need to talk,” he said to Penny.
“All right.” She put a bunch of paper in front of Kayla. “Start signing,” she said. “Look for the Xs.”
Finn and Penny went out onto the porch, and she heard the low, intense sound of an argument.
From the living room, she heard Leo laughing at the television.
Finn didn’t want to hire her. That was clear, and it wasn’t only because she’d been nosy. Something else about her bothered him.
Which was fine, because he kind of bothered her, too. She didn’t think he was dangerous himself, but he was clearly linked up to the veteran old boys’ network. If Mitch started yelling at one of his meetings about how they were missing, the word could get out. Paratroopers were intensely loyal and they helped each other out, and a missing child would definitely be the type of thing that would stir up their interest and sympathy.
She needed to be farther away, but for now, the protection offered by the ranch was probably the safest alternative for Leo. A week, two, even a month here would give her breathing room.
Or maybe Mitch’s rage would burn out. Although it hadn’t in the year since the divorce he’d fought every inch of the way.
Finn didn’t want her here, but she was used to that. She’d grown up in a home where she wasn’t wanted.
And Penny had seemed to intuit some of her issues when Kayla had probed about Finn and the ranch during a lull before the church service. She’d said something about men, how women needed to stick together. Penny was on her side.
She could deal with Finn. She didn’t need his approval or his smiles.
And she didn’t want to depend on anyone. But here, she could work hard, pull her weight.
Finn and Penny came back in. Finn’s jaw jutted out. Penny looked calm.
“You can have the job,” Finn said.
“However long you want it,” Penny added, glancing over at Finn.
Kayla drew in a deep breath, looking at them. “Thank you.”
Then, her insides quivering, she picked up the pen and started signing.
Chapter Four (#uf4ba159a-0994-5da8-b145-764b6fff002d)
Finn headed for the kennels around eight o’clock the next morning, enjoying the sight of the Sangre de Cristos. He could hear the dogs barking and the whinnying of a horse. They only kept two, and Penny cared for them up at the small barn, but she sometimes took one out for a little ride in the morning.
Up ahead, Kayla’s cabin door opened, and she and Leo came out.
He frowned. He wasn’t thrilled about her working here, but he was resigned to it. He just had to stay uninvolved, that was all.
He watched her urge Leo into the car. Leo resisted, turning away as if to run toward the cabin, but she caught him in a bear hug.
Uh-oh. Wherever they were going—probably down to the church day camp—Leo wasn’t on board.
She set Leo down and pointed at the back seat, and with obvious reluctance, the boy climbed in. Through the car’s open windows, he heard Leo complain, “I can’t get it buckled.”
She bent over and leaned in, and he noticed she didn’t raise her voice even though Leo continued to whine. She spoke soothingly but didn’t give in.
Finn looked away and tried to think about something other than what it would be like to parent a kid Leo’s age.
Derek’s age.
When she tried to start the car, all that happened was some loud clicking and grinding. A wisp of smoke wafted from the front of the vehicle.
She got out and raised the hood. From inside the car, Leo’s voice rose. “If I have to go, I don’t want to be late!”
By now, Finn had reached the point where her cabin’s little driveway intersected with the road. He looked out over the valley and sniffed the aromatic pines and tried to stay uninvolved. She hadn’t seen him. He could walk on by.
He tried to. Stopped. “Need a jump?”
She bit her lip, its fullness at odds with her otherwise plain looks and too-thin figure. She looked from him to Leo. As clear as the brightening blue sky, he could see the battle between her desire for independence and her child’s needs.
“I think my starter’s bad.”
“You need to call for a tow?” He stood beside her and pretended to know what he was looking at. Truth was, despite the fact that he’d sold farm machinery in one of his jobs, car repair wasn’t in his skill set.
She shook her head. “I can fix it, if I can get down to town and get the part.”
He looked sideways at her. “You sure?”
She blew out a pfft of air and nodded. “Sure. Just takes a screwdriver and a couple of bolts. Trouble is, Leo needs to get to camp.”
His glance strayed to her mouth again but he looked away quickly, glancing down to the cross around her neck. She wasn’t a girl up for grabs, obviously, and even if she were, he couldn’t partake. One, because she was sort of his employee—Penny was technically her boss, but he was her direct supervisor. And two, because of what he’d done. He didn’t deserve to connect with a woman. He needed to remember his decision in that regard.
No one had ever tested it before, not really.
But there was nothing wrong with giving her and the boy a ride, was there? Any Good Samaritan would do that.
“I planned to head down into town anyway,” he said. “I can move up my schedule. Come on. Grab his booster seat and we’ll hop in my truck.”
She hesitated and looked toward Leo, who appeared very small even in the compact car. “Okay. Thank you. That would be a big help.” She leaned in. “Hustle out, buddy. Mr. Finn’s going to give us a ride.”
“Is our car broken?”
“Yes, but I can fix it,” she said, her voice confident.
Leo nodded. “Okay.”
Finn carried the booster seat and Kayla held Leo’s hand as they walked down the dirt road toward Finn’s place and the truck. The piney breeze felt fresh against his face. A mountain bluebird flashed by, chirping its TOO-too, TOO-too.
Other than that, it was quiet, because Kayla wasn’t a person who had to talk all the time. As a quiet man himself, he appreciated that.
The ride to town got too quiet, though, so he turned on a little country music. When his current favorite song came on, he saw her tapping a hand against her jean-clad thigh. He was tapping the steering wheel, same rhythm, and when their eyes met, she flashed a smile.
They got close to town, and there was a sniffling sound in the back seat. Kayla turned half-around. “What’s wrong, buddy?”
“I don’t want to go.” Leo’s voice trembled.
“It’s hard to do new things,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact.
“My tummy hurts.”
“Sometimes that happens when you’re scared.” She paused, then added, “Anyone would be a little bit afraid, meeting a lot of new people. But we know how to do things anyway, even when we’re scared.”
“I don’t want to.” His voice dripped misery.
The tone and the sound brought back Finn’s son, hard. He remembered taking Derek to his first T-ball practice, a new team of kids he didn’t know. Finn had comforted him in the same way Kayla was comforting Leo.
His breath hitched. He needed to stop making that dumb kind of equation. “You’d better stop crying,” he said to Leo. “Buck up. The other boys will laugh at you.”
Finn looked in the rearview mirror, saw the boy’s narrow shoulders cringe and wanted to knock himself in the head.
Leo drew in a sharp, hiccupy breath.
Kayla was giving Finn the death stare. “Anyone worth being your friend will understand if you’re a little scared the first day,” she said over her shoulder.
But Leo kept gasping in air, trying to get his tears under control. And that was good; the other kids wouldn’t like a crybaby, but still. Finn had no right to tell Leo what to do.
No rights in this situation, at all.
And now the tension in the truck was thicker than an autumn fog.
He’d created the problem and he needed to fix it. “Hey,” he said, “when do you want the dog to come live with you?”
The snuffly sounds stopped. Kayla glanced back at Leo, then at Finn, her eyes narrowed.
He could tell she was debating whether or not to trust him and go along with this or to stay angry. He’d seen that expression plenty of times before, with his wife. She’d have chosen to hold on to her anger, no question.
“I don’t know.” Kayla put on a thoughtful voice. “I’d rather wait until this evening when Leo’s home from camp. That way, he can help me handle her. That is...” She turned half-around again. “Do you think we’re ready to take care of a dog? You’d have to help me.”
“Yeah!” Leo’s voice was loud and excited. “I know we can do it, Mom.”
“Hey, Leo,” Finn said, “I don’t know the dog’s name. She needs a new one. Maybe the other kids at camp could help you pick one out.” Actually, the former owners had told Finn the dog’s name. It was a common curse word. Even now, thinking of their nasty laughs as they’d dumped the eager, skinny, blind-and-deaf dog at the ranch, his mouth twisted.
“Okay!” Leo said as they pulled into the church parking lot. “I’ll ask them what we should name her!” He unfastened his seat belt as soon as the truck stopped, clearly eager to get on with his day.
“Wait a minute,” Kayla warned Leo as he reached for the door handle. “I need to take you in, and we have to walk on the lines in the parking lot. It’s for safety. The teacher told me when I talked to her.”
“I’ll be here,” Finn said as Kayla got nimbly out of the truck and then opened the back for Leo to jump down. They walked toward the building holding hands, Leo walking beside her, moving more slowly as they got closer.
Watching them reminded him of dropping off his son.
He couldn’t make a practice of getting involved with Kayla and Leo, he told himself sternly. It hurt too much. And it gave his heart crazy ideas about the possibility of having a family sometime in the future.
That wasn’t happening, his head reminded him.
But his heart didn’t seem to be listening.
* * *
Kayla walked out of the church after dropping Leo off at the camp program, her stomach twisting and tears pressing at her eyes.
If only she didn’t have to start him in a new program so soon after arriving in town. But she had to work; there wasn’t a choice about that.
He’ll be fine. He has to grow up sometime.
But he’d looked so miserable.
The lump in her throat grew and the tears overflowed.
To her mortification, two of the other mothers—or maybe it was a mother and a grandmother—noticed and came over. “What’s wrong, honey?” the older, redheaded one asked.
The younger woman came to her other side and startled Kayla by wrapping her in a hug. “Are you okay?”
What kind of a town was this, where complete strangers hugged you when you were sad? Kayla pulled back as soon as she graciously could and nodded. “I just hate...leaving him...in a new place.”
“Gotcha,” the older woman said without judgment and handed her a little packet of tissues. “I’m Marge. Just dropped off my Brenna in the same classroom your boy was in. It’s a real good program.”
Kayla drew in big gasps of air. “I’m sorry.” She blew her nose. “I feel like an idiot.”
“Oh, I know what you’re going through,” the mother who’d hugged her said. “I cried every single day of the first two weeks at kindergarten drop-off.” She patted Kayla’s shoulder. “I’m Missy, by the way. What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around.”
“I’m Kayla. Pleased to meet you.” She got the words out without crying any more, but barely.
“Now, me,” Marge said, “I jumped for joy when Brenna started kindergarten. She’s my sixth,” she added, “and I love her to pieces, but it was the first time I had the house to myself in fifteen years. I don’t want to give up the freedom come summer, so all my kids are in some kind of program or sport.”
Kayla tried to smile but couldn’t. Leo had gone willingly enough with the counselor in charge, no doubt buoyed up by the prospect of telling the other children he was getting a dog. But as they’d walked away, he’d shot such a sad, plaintive look over his shoulder. That was what had done her in.
For a long time, it had been her and Leo against the world. She had to learn to let him go, let him grow up, but she didn’t have to like it.
In the past year of starting and running her little business, cleaning houses for wealthy people, she’d paid attention to how they cared for their kids. Lots of talking, lots of book reading. That had been easy for her to replicate with Leo.
A couple of the families she’d really admired had given their kids independence and decision-making power, even at a fairly young age. That was harder for Kayla to do, given how she and Leo had been living, though she could see the merits of it. “Maybe I should go back in and check on him,” she said, thinking aloud.
“Don’t do it,” Missy advised. “You’ll just make yourself miserable. And if he sees you, he’ll get more upset.”
“He’ll be fine.” Marge waved a hand. “They have your number to call you if there’s anything wrong. Enjoy the time to yourself.”
One of the other mothers, a tall, beautifully made-up blonde, drifted over. “Some of us are going to Flexible Coffee for a bit,” she said to Kayla. “I noticed you’re new. Want to come?”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/lee-mcclain-tobin/the-soldier-s-redemption/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.