Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected Cowboy\His Ideal Match\The Rancher's Secret Son (44 page)

“There was just so much...left...” Max coughed and took a long drink from his glass. He didn't bother to finish his sentence when he set it back on the counter.

“Between us.” The words drifted from her mouth, as lazy as a warm wind on a summer's day. She didn't even mean to say them. But they hung in the gap.

“You left.” His voice barely rose above the hum of the ice machine kicking on in the freezer. “And you never came back.”

A fist of tension closed around her throat, and she opened her mouth, unsure what to say or what she even could say at this point without ruining everything. Blinking rapidly, she stared at him, anxiety pressing in on her chest.

He moved toward her, as if taking her silence for regret. And was there regret? Plenty. But not in the way he'd anticipate.

She held up one hand as he drew nearer, her fingers grazing the muscles of his chest beneath his T-shirt. “That's not true.” If he came closer, she'd forget who she was, where she was—how
old
she was—and slam right back into the past. Straight back into the body of her naive, eighteen-year-old self who couldn't see that her daddy was right about more than she wanted to admit. Who couldn't see that flirting with fire guaranteed burns.

Who couldn't look past the chemistry with Max still currently flushing her cheeks.

Even back then there'd been this innate urge to fix people. To see past the surface and reach through the exterior to the heart of someone hurting. As a young adult, Max had hurt. And she'd been drawn to him, convinced she'd turn him around. It brought a sense of purpose, knowing she'd made a difference in someone's life when she couldn't do a thing to help her own family's problems. She couldn't pad the checking account or convince the stubborn soil to yield produce for her father—but maybe she could heal with love.

She just never thought she'd get sucked in. That the darkness would overcome the light, that the single step she took down a path would pull her along until she was miles deep.

“You came back?” He took a step away from her, whether out of shock or because of her raised hand she couldn't tell. “When?”

She couldn't answer that one. Not now. What could she say?
I came back to tell you I was pregnant with Cody and caught you in the middle of a drug deal with one of the area's “most wanted”?
She hesitated, and he filled in his own blank.

“For your dad's funeral.”

That was true. She'd been there and stayed as incognito as possible.

She didn't even get a chance to nod before he wrapped her in a hug. “I'm sorry I didn't know you were here.” His strong arms curled around her waist and held her tight. “I'd have come and found you.”

The heartfelt words sank into her dry heart like a desert rain and soaked in deep. She returned the hug automatically, hands pressed against the hard contours of his back, certain he felt her heart pounding out of control under her robe. He radiated warmth, familiarity, memories...

No.
No
. She was back in Max Ringgold's arms, after-hours. Maybe some things had changed, but apparently not enough.

She jerked away. “I've got to check on the girls.” She flew through the kitchen door, wincing as the screen slammed behind her.

The perfect punctuation to the turmoil in her heart.

Chapter Eight

I
f Max batted zero one more time with Emma Shaver, he'd make some kind of unfortunate, proverbial hall of fame. She'd pulled out of his arms faster than he'd run out of church the first time Brady dragged him—and with just as many fears etched across her face.

But not before she hugged him back. Not before she'd fit against him like a missing puzzle piece from his past. As if the past decade plus hadn't separated them at all.

And that might be the scariest part.

He adjusted his cowboy hat as he leaned against the door frame of the recreation room, where he supervised the kids' free time. He really needed to get his mind off Emma and what transpired—or almost transpired—in the kitchen last night and back on the kids before him. All but two were enjoying the rewards of their hard work and the bonus system he'd put into place last year. For each good deed done or extra mile taken in conduct toward their peers, they were awarded an extra ten minutes of free time for the week.

The two that hadn't earned any rewards yet, Peter and Ashton, were in the kitchen helping Mama Jeanie—peeling potatoes for soup that night. Mama Jeanie always made soup on Fridays. She said in life, it was the little things you could count on that meant the most. And that these kids coming through the program needed stability, needed to be able to depend on the little things, so she made soup.

There was probably a lot of genius in that.

Max shifted his weight, watching as David and Hank shot a puck at rapid speed across the air hockey table. Luke always loved playing that game with the teens. Thankfully Nicole's doctor had put her on bed rest at the hospital, so Luke still had a little bit of freedom to help out at the ranch periodically while she rested. He'd be there tomorrow for the next group trail ride and could fill in with the boys while Max did more One4One sessions. He couldn't wait to meet with Cody again so they could dig deeper on the issues the boy had. He'd barely scratched the surface, but Max could tell that the lack of a father figure in Cody's life had affected him. How badly, he had yet to determine.

Sometimes he wasn't sure if physically absent fathers were better or worse than the emotionally absent ones like his own had been.

His eyes drifted toward the younger boy, who lounged on the couch in front of the TV, fingers furiously punching at the Xbox controls. Cody's speed and concentration were testament that the fast-paced car game on the screen wasn't his first rodeo. The kid definitely had a mind geared toward technology—though in the past few days, Max had noticed his confidence increase with the animals, as well. He had the capability to be well-rounded, but clearly the video games and iPod buds were a bigger draw. Hopefully they'd break through that before the end of the camp, since the violence utilized in most of those games—and the lyrics of the music Cody chose—didn't lend to good behavior. In fact, he was surprised Emma hadn't made more rules about those choices.

And then she was there, as if his thinking about her had drawn her. Her fresh, peppermint scent wafted past him as she peered around the door frame into the room, her blond hair sweeping her shoulders. “Are the girls okay?”

Emma's tone, all business, doused the spark of hope that had birthed last night. He eased aside to give her space, though his instincts warred inside him to press closer. But it was like working with a frightened filly—pushing only led to someone getting trampled.

He forced what he hoped looked like a casual smile and hoped she couldn't tell that just minutes ago he'd been psychoanalyzing her child. “The girls have been playing board games. Tonya seemed to get bored and hit the treadmill earlier, but now I think the competition is pretty fierce.” He gestured toward where the girls were gathered in one corner of the room, hunched over a board with multiple pieces. Katie frowned as she rolled the game dice, while Stacy grinned as she counted her wad of paper money.

Emma acknowledged the update with a slight nod, though she still didn't meet his eyes. Probably a good thing, too. At this proximity, with last night still fresh in his mind, he might forget his batting average altogether and do something crazy—like kiss her. Just to see if the sparks they'd once lit like the Fourth of July were still flammable. To see if he could detect even a hint of their old relationship like he'd imagined he'd felt in her hug.

To see if there was any reason at all to reignite the embers he'd never been able to fully put out.

He kept his eyes on the room of kids, the knot in his throat growing until he thought he'd choke. The tense silence between them spoke more than most words could, and he hated what the message relayed. “You ready for the trail ride tomorrow?” Not the most genius of topics, but at least it broke the ice freezing him out.

She stiffened beside him at the reminder of the horses. “Ready as I'll ever be to sit on top of a moving beast.”

“Come on, now. You've ridden before.” Settled in front of him while they rode bareback together, if he remembered correctly. And he didn't forget most things involving Emma Shaver.

She met his eyes then, with a pointed look that shot like a barb into his heart. “And it's
still
not my cup of tea.”

Ouch. Point taken.

Definitely not the time to remind her she'd once ridden on his friend's Harley, either.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything to get her head away from the negative past, when one of the biggest boys in the camp, sixteen-year-old Jarvis Mason, sat down suddenly on the couch next to Cody. “My turn.”

Cody wrangled the controller slightly out of reach, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as the race car continued careening at high speeds around a digital track. “Not yet.”

“Come on, you've been playing ever since we got in here.” Jarvis reached for the controller, crowding his space as Cody jerked it away once again.

Uh-oh. Max felt Emma's eyes bore into the side of his face, gauging, judging, waiting for him to intervene. But he wouldn't, not yet. In the real world, he wouldn't be there to run interference for these kids. They had to learn to handle opposition and conflict in a healthy way, and after the talk he'd had with Cody the other day by his truck, he was confident Cody could make the right decision.

He crossed his arms and waited, believing.
Come on, Cody. Make good choices.

Jarvis sneered and used muscle this time, elbowing Cody in the side and snatching the controller for himself. “Time for little boys to share.”

Cody lunged, like a bull from a chute, straight at Jarvis's barrel chest. Jarvis yelled in surprise, and, with his hands full of the game controller, couldn't dodge the scrawny fist Cody shot right at his nose.

Apparently Max had been wrong.

Emma sucked in her breath, hands covering her mouth. Blood dripped from Jarvis's nose, and with a growl, he threw down the controller. The room stilled, and Katie gasped. Several of the other guys stood up, whether to jump in to help or make it worse, Max wasn't certain. To Cody's credit, he only lifted his chin and met Jarvis's gaze head-on as they glared at each other in front of the TV.

This would be the time to intervene.

Max covered the distance between him and the boys in three long strides. “That's enough, guys. Game over.” He took the controller and tossed it out of reach on the floor.

“He
punched
me.” Jarvis wiped his face, red streaking across his cheek, and his eyes narrowed to slits.

Cody scoffed. “Because you deserved it.”

“I saw what happened.” Max raised his voice over the sound of Jarvis's high-pitched protests. “Stacy, could you throw me those tissues, please?”

She tossed the box at him from across the room. Max caught it deftly in one hand and plucked several for Jarvis, who pressed the thin tissues against his face.

Max could almost feel the trembles racking Cody's body, whether from adrenaline or shame he couldn't be sure. But these boys needed separation, quick.

He hooked his arm through Cody's elbow and tugged the boy to one side, halfway behind him. Jarvis could still retaliate, and from the looks in both boys' eyes, he wouldn't be surprised if they acted first and gladly accepted punishment later. He couldn't risk any more blood.

He nodded at Emma, who stepped uncertainly into the room, eyes glued to Cody as if she weren't sure if she could go to him or not.

She couldn't.

Max coughed intentionally, drawing her gaze. “Please take Jarvis to Chaplain Tim in the dorms.” Away from here. Away from Cody, before the older teen realized he'd just been bested by a thirteen-year-old and tried to outmuscle them all. The last thing Max needed was a dog pile, and some of the other boys in the room still pressed in closer than he liked, the excitement of a fight lighting their eyes.

Emma's lips pursed into a line, but just like he knew she would, she snapped out of mama-mode and into counselor-mode. “Sure.” Her tone grew firm and impossible to argue with. “Come on, Jarvis.” She held out a steady hand, ushering him toward the door.

“I get punched in the face, and
I
have to see the preacher man?” The bigger boy's voice rose to a crescendo, but he didn't argue further as he tossed crimson tissues in the trash can they walked past. “Totally unfair.”

“We'll talk soon. Don't worry.” Max waited until they left the room, keeping one hand on Cody's shoulder, and met the gaze of the other boys in the room. “Back to your games. Or you can all peel potatoes.”

The group instantly broke up and went back to their activities. Max couldn't leave with Cody, though, not until Emma got back or Faith or the other part-timers came on duty. With this much tension in the air, no way was he leaving any of the teens unsupervised. He'd seen it plenty of times—one broke a rule, and the others were tempted to follow close behind. It was that carnal temptation to push the limits. Sort of like how Max had been the majority of his life until the Lord wrangled it out of him.

Even now, though, wasn't he doing the same thing with Emma? Wanting to push, test his limits, see how close he could get to winning her back?

No. He couldn't go there right now.

He led Cody to a corner of the room that wasn't occupied and turned his full attention to the boy. The pained glaze in his eyes felt hauntingly familiar. Max had been the same way growing up—it was like looking in a mirror from years ago, all that hurt and sadness bottled behind a thick wall of defense. If it hadn't been for Brady and his influence—not to mention Emma's—Max would still be in big trouble. Who would be “Brady” to Cody? Who would knock down those walls?

He wanted to do it. But one month in a camp wasn't always long enough. Yet somehow, Max felt more compelled to try than ever before. He sat Cody down on the edge of a chair near the front of the room and took the ottoman across from him, pulling it up so their knees nearly touched and their words wouldn't carry. “What gives, man?”

Cody shrugged, an odd mixture of pride and repentance engraved in his expression. “Jarvis is a bully.”

Max leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You hit him, though. What does that make you?”

“Smarter?”

He almost laughed, a gut reaction, but he held it at bay. Despite the surprise of the answer, this was serious. Moments like these had eternal consequence. If Cody didn't realize the severity of his choices, he might never turn back. The weight of that wiped any trace of a smile from Max's face. “Wrong answer.”

Cody sighed and looked down at his hands. “It's not that big a deal.”

“It's sort of a huge deal, Cody.” Max waited until the boy looked up, and held his gaze. “That's twice you've either attempted or succeeded at starting a physical fight here at Camp Hope. You know that's against the rules.”

Once more and it'd be his third strike. Unless Max and the other counselors met and decided to wipe the first offense off his camp record since he didn't actually make contact with Peter at the rope swing. But that could go either way and, regardless, the situation brought Cody way too close to being terminated from the camp. Max had to keep the camp safe for the other campers.

No playing favorites, even if he did feel inexplicably drawn to Cody.

“Am I being kicked out?”

Max couldn't tell if that was his goal or not, and the thought that it could be made him want to simultaneously slap the teen upside his head and hug his neck. He knew where the rebellion was birthed; he'd experienced it himself.

But that didn't make the blatant disrespect and apathy any easier to swallow—especially by those who went out of their way to help hurting kids. Kids who lashed out and hurt others because of their own wounds, like an angry lion with its paw in a trap. Assaulting the one trying to set it free.

Well, Max had his share of battle wounds and wasn't afraid of a few more. Not when it could mean the difference between life and death. “If you want out, you're free to leave.” The words were a gamble, but he knew when a scared teenager was bluffing. Cody's sudden wide eyes proved his instincts true. “Hit the road, Jack. Have fun in juvie. I know for a fact the food isn't nearly as good.”

Cody's eyes narrowed in defense. “I'm not going to juvie.”

“You will if you leave here. This is Last Chance City, and you know it.”

The fight momentarily left his eyes, and suddenly the abandoned, lost little boy was all Max could see. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, not wanting to lose the momentary breakdown of a wall. “I want you here, Cody. But you have to follow the rules for the program to work. I can't help you if I'm constantly breaking up fights.”

Cody traced an aimless pattern on the knee of his jeans with one finger, not responding.

“I need you to meet me halfway.” Max held his breath. “And I need you to realize that hitting someone bigger than you doesn't make you better than them. In fact, it makes you pretty small.”