Authors: Debra Clopton
Before she could act, a powerful wind caught Joey's wagon.
She'd left it outside the door when they came in from their walk. Another dumb
thing she'd done. A lawn chair tumbled through her yard, and fearing the wagon
would be caught in the squall, she'd dashed outside and grabbed the wagon
handle. That was the last she remembered, except for the vague images that
followed when she'd awakened on the ground beneath a heavy limb and Joey was in
the man's arms.
Tears edged down her cheeks. She needed to see Joey now. Where
was he? Where was the doctor? How long would she have to wait?
* * *
Devon tapped his foot, thinking he should leave but not
wanting to. Over an hour had passed, and his earlier exhaustion had returned,
leaving his brain fried. The day seemed like a dream, but then so many of those
days did. Bad dreams. At least this one had a happy ending.
Joey had become his buddy, and when his aunt Neely had arrived,
the boy called her name and opened his arms to her. She scooped him up, her
questions to him flying fast.
“Who are you?” she'd asked, her question causing him confusion.
Then he remembered he wasn't in uniform.
“I'm a neighbor a few houses down from your sister's, but I'm a
firefighter. I'd just gotten home from the bad night we've had. Everything here
was fine until this storm came out of nowhere. The microburst sent everything
sailing.”
Joey wiggled free of his aunt's grasp and raised his arms to
him, wanting back on his lap, but he hesitated, wondering if it would upset
Ashley's sister.
Neely's surprised expression merged with a grin. “You're his
hero...which you truly are. If you hadn't found Ash, who knows what would have
happened.”
“No hero. Just blessed to be there at the right time.” He
hesitated before asking his nagging question. “Do you know what's happening with
Ashley?”
She blinked as if surprised. “I thought you knew. They're
setting her leg...with a screw.”
“A screw. That means surgery.”
She nodded. “They'll let me know when I can see her. She'll be
fine. I know my sister.” She leaned down and kissed Joey's head. “I am worried
about the house, though.” A frown flickered on her face. “Anyone could break in
with the windowâ”
His head hurt. “Sorry. I forgot to tell you the gentleman next
door said he had a key and he'd take care of blocking the window. Temporary, but
it'll secure the house.”
“You mean Mr. Wells. Irvin and Peggy. They're thoughtful
neighbors.” A grin stole to her face. “I feel better knowing they're taking care
of it...for now, anyway.”
Gratefulness filled her eyes, and he understood the feeling.
Being there to help made him grateful. People helping people. It's the way God
wanted it to be. Again his thoughts snapped back to the scene. How long would
she have lain there without help if he hadn't witnessed the aftermath of the
accident?
“Family of Ashley Kern.”
He turned toward the doorway. A surgeon stood in the threshold
wearing green scrubs.
Neely bounded from the chair. “Will you hang on to Joey?”
Though she asked the question, she didn't wait for his response
as she rushed to the doorway and followed the surgeon into the hall.
Devon, letting Joey play with his car keys to keep him
distracted, prayed everything went well.
In a minute, Neely returned. He waited, expecting to learn the
details. Instead, Neely gave a subtle head nod toward Joey. “I can see her now,
but I'm not sure ifâ” she eyed Joey “âthey'll allow him in, so I'll go alone and
see if it's possible to take him to see her for a minute.” She gave Devon a
searching look. “Do you mind staying with Joey?”
First he wanted answers. “I'm happy to, but what's the
diagnosis?”
Her gaze shifted to Joey. “Minor concussion and a closed
fracture. The bleeding was a surface wound.”
Devon nodded. “I was afraid it was a compound fracture.”
Her focus shifted to Joey. “I hope they'll let me take him in
for a visit. They'd both feel better.”
He nodded, admitting to himself he'd feel better, too, if he
saw her. “Go ahead. I'll be here.”
She managed a half grin. “Thanks.” Turning her attention again
to the child, she patted his head. “I'll be back in a minute, sweetie.
Okay?”
“ʼKay.” The response was accompanied with the jingle of Devon's
keys.
Neely hurried away again, and Joey held up the key ring. “Go
for a ride to see Mama.”
Devon could barely focus, and he ached everywhere but
especially for the boy. “We have to wait, pal. Then maybe you can see her.” He
prayed they'd let the toddler into the room even for a moment. The child had
been brave throughout the whole mess. He was bright as a star and sweet as
sugarâmaybe like his mom.
Joey rested his head against his shoulder, and Devon closed his
eyes a moment. The feel of the boy in his arms took him back to when his
daughter Kaylee was about that size. She loved to cuddle, and he loved snuggling
to her, smelling the sweetness of her hair and the scent of innocence. As Joey
calmed, stillness settled over Devon. He relaxed his shoulders and took
advantage of the silence.
“Devon.”
He jerked his head and stared bleary eyed at Neely. Joey
wriggled against him, arising from his sleep. They'd both gone to dreamland, and
now he faced Ashley's sister, embarrassed. “And I'm supposed to be watching this
young man.”
She shook her head, a calmer look on her face. “Neither of you
needed watching. I didn't mean to wake you. I know you've had a horrible night,
but they gave me permission to bring Joey down for a few minutes.” She bent over
and hoisted the toddler in her arms. “You're getting heavy, big boy.”
“I'm a big boy.” He grinned at her, then turned his dimpled
smile to Devon.
Devon pressed his back from the chair cushion and roused
himself upward. He realized this ended his excuse for sticking around. “I
suppose I should go then.”
“Don't go.” She raised her hand. “Unless you must. Ashley wants
to talk with you a minute if you can wait. I won't be long with him.” She
touched Joey's cheek. “Or if you're too tired, I canâ”
His palm flexed upward to stop her. “No, I'm fine. I'd be happy
to stay.”
“Thanks. She'll appreciate it.” She turned and headed to the
door.
He sank into the chair, his heartbeat playing a rhythm against
his chest. The sensation threw him. He'd received a thank-you from many people
he'd helped during one disaster after another, and he'd never reacted with this
kind of anticipation.
He stretched his legs and folded his hands across his empty
belly, searching for a logical explanation. The boy. That was it. Joey reminded
him of Kaylee. Since she lived with her mother while he had only a few days with
her during his off time, he felt cheated. He missed so many firsts and heard
about them secondhand.
Divorce was a nightmare, especially when it wasn't his doing.
He'd taken months to sort through his emotions and to understand what happened.
No affair. No sensible reason. Gina announced she was depressed and unhappy. She
needed a change.
A change. The word ripped through him. Everyone needed a change
once in a while, but not one that ended a marriage. He'd been a good
husband...he thought. A hard worker. A loving husband and father. He asked what
he'd done wrong. She said nothing.
Maybe that was it. He'd done nothing. Perhaps her life wasn't
exciting enough, while his was too exciting fighting fires and saving lives. He
even rescued kittens in trees and dogs trapped in sewer pipes. Sleep swooped
over him, and he rubbed his eyes. His head spun with weariness, and he needed to
forget the past. She'd wanted a divorce, and his crazy forty-eight-hour shifts
complicated having physical custody of Kaylee. Instead, regrettably, he settled
for visitation.
He drew in air to clear his mind. Going over it again solved
nothing. It was the way it was, and he'd learned to enjoy the time he had with
his sweet daughter.
Devon rose, smelling the acrid coffee coming from the urn. He
took a step toward the pot, but his stomach churned. He dismissed the idea. He
needed food. No. He needed sleep.
“She's ready to see you.”
His pulse skipped hearing Neely's voice.
She shifted Joey in her arms. “I'm going to take this boy home
and give him some food and then off to bed. Thanks so much for all you've done.
You've been more than kind.”
“I'm glad I was there.” Somehow the words meant more to him
than they should. He gazed at Joey. “And don't worry about the house. I'll check
to make sure everything's safe before I hit the sack.”
She nodded her thanks and gave him directions to Ashley's room.
With another nod, she pivoted, clutching Joey in her arms and heading for the
exit.
Devon strode down the hall, his legs pushing him forward,
eagerness in his step. Helping a neighbor, anyone, always uplifted him. But the
image of her pinned beneath the trunk depleted his breath. Strange. He'd seen
those scenarios many times in his career. People hurt, bleeding, dead. Why this
reaction? For one thing, he needed sleep. That had to be all it was.
Copyright © 2014 by Gail Gaymer Martin
ISBN-13: 9781460324615
His Ideal Match
Copyright © 2014 by Deborah Rather
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, 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, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ⢠are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
A Mother's Last Hope
When her troubled teenage son is sent to Camp Hope, Emma Shaver is thrilled and relieved. The therapy horse ranch in Broken Bend, Louisiana, is well-known for giving at-risk teens a new lease on life. There's just one problemâit's owned by her old high school sweetheart, Max Ringgold, who doesn't know he's her son's father. Emma didn't plan on facing her past to ensure her son's future. But when old feelings for Max resurface, Emma must decide if she will reveal the truth to him and restore her family for good.
“I know you have your own life in Dallas.”
Max rested his forehead on hers, then backed away completely, as if realizing he just couldn't get that close.
Dallas. Yes.
The fog cleared, and snatches of lifeâreal lifeâpressed back to the surface. But she didn't want real life. She wanted to stay in this pocket of stillness. Where there was only the twinkle of the stars and the love in a certain cowboy's eyes and the whisper that lifeâher lifeâcould still be different. Could be restored.
“But maybe⦔ Max's voice trailed, and he tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “Maybe.”
Maybe. So much potential in that word. So much hope. When was the last time she'd hoped? She wanted to hope. Wanted to feel again. To believe. To trust. Was it possible?
“Maybe.” She breathed out the word.
Maybe
would have to be enough for now.
Maybe
would hold back real life a little while longer.
Books by Betsy St. Amant
Love Inspired
Return to Love
A Valentine's Wish
Rodeo Sweetheart
Fireman Dad
Her Family Wish
The Rancher Next Door
The Rancher's Secret Son
BETSY ST. AMANT
loves polka-dot shoes, chocolate and sharing the good news of God's grace through her novels. She has a bachelor's degree in Christian communications from Louisiana Baptist University and is actively pursuing a career in inspirational writing. Betsy resides in northern Louisiana with her husband and daughter and enjoys reading, kickboxing and spending quality time with her family.