Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected Cowboy\His Ideal Match\The Rancher's Secret Son (48 page)

But healing never began without first acknowledging the wound.

Her thoughts turned back to Max as Tonya slipped past and began rummaging through her dresser. Emma thought she'd healed from their fling—no, it was more than that. Labeling it as such was clearly a defense mechanism she'd concocted years ago. She had to start being honest with herself, just like Max had been honest last night.

A heavy sense of realization settled in her stomach, as hard and unforgiving as a boulder. But she couldn't avoid it any longer. This particular truth didn't seem able to set her free, but rather, it confined her in the same chains she'd struggled against for years.

She still needed him, too.

Chapter Twelve

C
ody Shaver might not have his mom's eyes, but he'd definitely inherited her uncanny ability to clam up at the slightest hint of a breached wall.

Max shifted in his office chair, ignoring the squeak of the fake leather and trying not to show the frustration building within his chest. They'd been making such progress in their One4One—two-plus weeks into the program now, and he'd gotten through to Cody about his behavior. He'd also been able to praise the kid for several well-done chores and even secured a promise to apologize to Jarvis for the fighting incident.

Then he'd asked Cody about his dad, and the boy's jaw clamped tighter than Nugget with Brady's favorite cowboy hat.

“So your father...”

Face pale against his black T-shirt, Cody shook his head, a dull ache in his eyes. “I already told you. I don't know who he is.”

That was so not like Emma. A blank name on Cody's paperwork under father? How could she not know? No, Emma knew, and didn't want to say. Why?

Unless... A wild thought crossed his mind, so wild he felt ridiculous even considering it. But the timing... He turned Cody's file to check the kid's birthday and started a desperate backward count down in his head.

Cody slumped in his seat. “All I know is he was some jerk who left my mom when she was pregnant and never came back.”

His eyes lingered on the numbers before him, and his heart swam in an odd mixture of disappointment and amusement, all at the same time. The timing was impossible, by almost a year. Who was he kidding? Emma hadn't thought twice about him after she left.

But this wasn't about him.

No, this was about a boy who had been abandoned by his own father before he could even meet him and clearly carried those wounds around on his shoulders.

And Emma—he hurt for her. Even though she'd clearly gotten involved with someone quickly after she left Max, no one deserved what she'd been through. What she and Cody had been through together.

Max drew in a deep breath, determined to put Emma aside for the moment and talk about Cody's issues alone. “Let's talk about your dad for a minute. How knowing that he never came back makes you feel.”

A warning flashed in Cody's eyes, indicating a hot button, and Max hesitated. He didn't want to start a fight or war of the wills, but he had to reach through the shield Cody still held and get to the source of the boy's hurt. Once there, Max could help him figure out how to process the behaviors Cody felt and decide if he needed to be referred to a professional. More than half of the teens that left Camp Hope received a referral, which made Max sick inside. The teens' parents clearly cared enough to bring them to the facility, but they never realized how much of a part of the overall problem they often were themselves.

Workaholism. Alcoholism. Perfectionism. Transferring fears of guilt, rejection and failure onto their kids. Without the right coping skills, the teens ran to whatever distractions or pleasures they could get to the quickest. It was sad.

And it made Max wonder if he'd be better off never bringing his own children into the world someday. Brady teased him about finding the right woman already so their kids could play together one day, but he didn't know. His own father had screwed him up—and it was solely by the grace of God that Max had escaped the destructive cycle. He had no guarantees he would be able to keep it up.

“I don't feel anything. I'm fine.” Cody crossed his arms.

“I understand this isn't a fun topic.” Max shifted forward in his chair, having chosen to sit beside Cody rather than let the desk separate them. “But it's probably more important than you realize. If you can just tell me a little about how—”

“No!” Cody stood up, skinny chest heaving, cheeks red and eyes glassy. Clearly, he was fighting a losing battle with tears. “I don't have to, and I don't want to.”

Time to retreat. But they wouldn't end the session in such a negative place. Max gestured for Cody to sit back down. He obeyed, grudgingly, his eyes as wary as a doe's in November, and fixed his gaze somewhere near the potted plant behind Max's chair.

Fortress closed. But he'd dealt with worse. There was always a drawbridge if you looked hard enough. “There's one more thing we need to talk about today, then you can go on to your chores.” He pressed on, pretending not to watch as Cody slowly regained control of his emotions and unclenched his jaw. “How are you doing with your mom being here on campus?”

“I hardly ever see her. So it's fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Wish she'd avoid me this much at home.”

Ouch. That would have cut right through Emma's jean jacket and straight into her heart. Max struggled to hide his surprise at the boy's choice of words. “You feel smothered at home?” Well, didn't every teen?

“I guess. I mean, she's just always on me, wanting to know what I'm doing and where I'm going and who I'm with.”

He hid a smile. That just meant she was doing her job as a mom—and doing it well. “Don't you think that maybe some of your past choices have given her a reason to ask a lot of questions?”

He flushed red. “Yeah.”

“So give her some slack, okay? Here's a secret about parents.” He leaned forward as if he were about to reveal the mother lode of teenaged treasure.

Cody pretended indifference, but his eyes lit with interest.

“The more truth you tell them, the more they back off.” He knew that was the case more often than not, and he could easily see how Emma's personality fed into that. If Emma could trust Cody again, she'd be more comfortable giving him some space. And teen boys needed a degree of space—he could remember the hormones and the struggle that came with being thirteen. It was a balancing act, and Emma and Cody were about to topple off the wire if something didn't change.

“You think so?” Cody squinted with uncertainty.

“It's a fact. You need to show your mom she can trust you. And she can't trust you until you make good decisions in front of her. Be responsible, that sort of thing.”

“Like, doing my chores the first time she harps on me?”

Max rubbed his jaw, briefly hiding the smile he couldn't contain. There were moments like this every so often that popped up and reminded him that Cody was only thirteen—his youngest camper, and in so many ways, still a child. It brought comfort—that maybe Cody wasn't too far gone after all—yet also, unease. Kids in Cody's position didn't need to be naive or gullible about themselves, either.

“Yes, like that. And also, like, not sneaking out of the house to vandalize your school.” He hardened his pointed stare, and Cody ducked his head.

Mission accomplished. He'd gotten through. Now to move forward.

“You're doing really well here.” He waited until Cody glanced up at him, and smiled, willing the boy to relax and not shut down again. “I'm proud of your accomplishments.”

The straight line of his shoulders sagged slightly, and his eyebrows perked. “So I'm going to pass?”

“That's up to you.” Max shrugged, the casual move a contradiction to the urgency in his gut. He still wasn't certain why Cody passing the program mattered so much to him personally. He cared about all his campers, and it ate at him the few times he'd had to send teenagers home early for consistently destructive behavior. He couldn't save them all, and he knew that.

But he really wanted to save Cody.

It had to be his ties to Emma, which hopefully Cody was still unaware of. It'd be hard for him to trust Max if he felt Max was more on his mom's side than his own.

Which was true in some ways—but not necessarily in others. He knew no parent was perfect, but until he got the whole story, it was hard to determine where the blame really lay. Each teen was ultimately responsible for his own actions, but if it were evident they'd had a disadvantage from birth, Max tried to address it with the parents and even the courts, if needed.

Cody had to pass. For his own sake, and for Emma's. Max would do all he could to help him, but he wouldn't cut corners or let the boy off without earning it. Enabling would only land Cody in jail one day. “You'll pass if you keep doing the hard work.”

Cody plucked at the intentional hole in the knee of his jeans. “I've almost nailed the rope swing.” His voice lifted with a thin layer of optimism, though Max could sense the trepidation still under the surface.

“You'll get it.” He nodded with confidence, wishing he could follow Cody around and verbally build the boy up even after he left camp. He thrived under compliments. Did Emma realize? He made a mental note to tell her. “But I don't mean just physical hard work.”

Cody sighed hard enough to rustle the stack of papers on Max's desk. “I know.”

“Next One4One.” His tone didn't elicit an argument, and thankfully, Cody didn't try. He stood, inviting Cody to do the same, and walked him to the office door. “You're doing good, man. You know that, right?”

He stopped just outside the door, eyes focused somewhere near his boots. “I guess.”

Under-confidence was just as bad, if not worse, than overconfidence. It seemed lately it was a lot easier to knock down than build up. “Just do me a favor. Don't stop the process.” He wanted to jump inside Cody and fill whatever void lingered. From his father. From his lack of connection with his mom. From God. The teen years were scary enough in the most ideal of conditions—and Cody's situation was far from ideal.

As was Emma's.

When Cody finally lifted his head and nodded, blond hair falling over his eyes in a cowlick he'd been fighting since his first day on the ranch, Max drew a sharp intake of breath. For a minute, he'd seen something so familiar in Cody's expression, it'd been like looking in a mirror.

Must be his own past saying hi to Cody's present. How many times had Max felt the exact same way Cody looked? Confused. Lost. Trapped in his own skin.

More determined to help the boy than ever, Max shut the door behind him with a solid thump and briefly rested his forehead against it. He still needed to find out what made Cody tick.

Which meant one thing.

He needed to talk to Emma.

* * *

Emma didn't know which had her more on edge—the constant awareness of everything Tonya did or didn't put in her mouth, or the fact that Stacy stood armed and ready ten paces to her left with a bow and arrow.

Rubber tipped, but still. Good thing she didn't have an apple on her head.

Emma pulled the sleeves of her hoodie down farther over her hands to warm them as Luke and one of the part-time counselors jogged back and forth between campers, demonstrating the proper technique of drawing back the arrow on the bow. The goal was to let it fly toward the stacked hay bales so many yards downwind. It looked impossibly far to her.

“What's the point of this whole archery thing?” Emma snagged Max's shirtsleeve as he strolled past, his face relaxed and bronze in the sunshine streaming across the open field. The afternoon breeze rustled the hair under his cowboy hat, and he glanced down at her hand on his arm before she abruptly removed it. Definitely had to remember her no-touching rule, or she'd permanently walk around feeling as if she'd been zapped in the hand.

“It's a group competition. I'm teaching them the value of teamwork and encouragement.” His grin widened. “Plus, it's fun.”

Teamwork and encouragement. Right. Emma just hoped it wouldn't teach a new vehicle for violence. They weren't exactly in the presence of a bunch of Maid Marians.

“Trust me.” Max squeezed her shoulder before moving past her. “You'll see.” He winked, and she was left torn between focusing on the butterflies stirred by his touch and snorting over his request to trust him.

Either inevitably proved useless, so she focused on her girls instead.

Beside her, Katie bounced excitedly, waiting for her turn, while Tonya stood coolly with arms crossed, no doubt concerned that archery wouldn't go much better for her than the obstacle course. Those two were on Luke's team, while Jarvis, Stacy and Cody had been placed on the other male counselor's team.

“Archers ready!” Max clapped his hands. “Luke, you're up. You won the toss.”

Luke's team slapped high fives, while he quickly bent and went over a few reminders to Katie. “You're up, Red.”

She blushed at the nickname but seemed to enjoy the cheers from her group. Emma slowly relaxed. Apparently the team idea was a stroke of genius, because even those that had mocked the competition previously were suddenly on board, shouting encouragement to Katie.

Her first shot went high, over the bales, but her second nailed just to the right of the target's bull's-eye. She struck a sassy pose before passing the bow to the boy in line behind her.

From Max's team, Jarvis drew back the arrow and landed two solid hits to the target, though not as close as Katie's near bull's-eye. He handed their team's bow off to Cody and sneered. “Good luck. You'll need it.”

Emma took a step forward before catching herself, then looked to see if Max had caught the exchange. If he had, he wasn't letting on. Frustration stirred, but she kept her feet firmly in place—despite the urge to march over to Cody's side and intervene.

Then a cold wave of suspicion doused her anger. Was this the kind of thing Cody dealt with at school every day? If he were the subject of constant teasing and tormenting due to his size and the perspective of being an easy target, no wonder he had so much pent-up aggression. No wonder he kept trying to prove himself to his peers, earn acceptance the wrong way.

She stared at her son as if she'd never seen him before.

Maybe she hadn't.

Cody waited for the next guy on Luke's team to go, then warily drew back his arrow, his arm visibly shaking even from her vantage point down the line. He sucked in his breath, and his first shot went over the target by a foot, disappearing into the golden field beyond.