Читать книгу The Rancher's Secret Son - Betsy St. Amant - Страница 12

Chapter Three

Emma poured herself what had to be her fourth cup of tea in the past two hours—and still, her headache had yet to abandon ship. She settled back against the throw pillows on her mother’s couch, then adjusted positions as a knotted tassel dug into her spine. She’d hated those pillows growing up. Still did.

Her mom sat across the coffee table from her in a straight-back chair, one sandal-clad foot bouncing an easy rhythm over her crossed leg. Her softly curled brown hair was cut the same, maybe a little shorter. The wrinkles under her eyes were new. Then again, the bags under Emma’s eyes were relatively new as well, thanks to Cody.

“Camp Hope is a quality facility, Emma. Cody will be fine.” Her mother paused as she took a sip from her teacup. “It will be good for him to get out of Dallas for a while.”

“I know. You’re right.” But she heard what her mom wasn’t saying. You should have brought him here more often. And maybe she should have. But she’d made her choices, and they worked for them. Or at least, they had worked until Cody cannonballed off the deep end.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she kept Cody from his grandmother. Her mom came and stayed with them in the city multiple times during the year, shopping, dining out and enjoying spa days at Emma’s expense. She didn’t mind pampering her mother—her father never did growing up, and her mom definitely deserved it.

Mom just never understood why Emma kept her secrets to herself.

“Will you still be in town for Thanksgiving?” Her mother’s tone was even, controlled, so much so that Emma couldn’t decipher the meaning behind the words. Did she want them to stay? Was that hope hidden? Or resignation of the inevitable inconvenience?

“I guess it depends on the program and Cody’s graduation.” She rolled in her lip. Thanksgiving. Seemed aeons away, though it was only about a month. “If Cody graduates then we should be able to join you. Or you could follow us to Dallas and we could get together there.” If he didn’t graduate...then Cody would go to juvie? Would the judge give him another chance? Would Cody stay out of trouble long enough to make it through the holidays?

She’d heard the tone of voice the judge had used when he’d pulled her aside privately after the hearing. “I know this is hard on you,” he’d said. “Especially as a counselor. So I’m playing this straight with you—Camp Hope is Cody’s last chance before serious repercussions. He’s on a bad road, Ms. Shaver, and the people he’s keeping company with are on a worse one.”

Like she didn’t already know.

But hearing it from an official’s mouth, from someone who had the authority to put her son in some form of teen confinement, made the slap of reality sting all the more.

Cody had to get through this program.

Emma set her teacup on the coffee table, emotion clogging her throat, and stood as her mother wisely remained silent. Adrenaline raced against exhaustion in a never-ending marathon. This was so messed up. She should be planning what to get her son for Christmas, not wondering if he’d even be home on December 25.

She moved to the lace-covered front window, admiring the sunset and soaking in the peace it offered as she ran her fingers over the worn edges of the curtains. They hadn’t changed, either. But then again, her mom didn’t have any more money now than she did when Daddy was alive.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the musty, familiar smell of the house of her childhood. She hadn’t been home since the funeral a few years ago. Even then, she’d kept to herself, rigid in the corner with a sandwich tray, feigning a smile and hoping Broken Bend didn’t stain her any further than it already had. She’d left after convincing her mom to come stay with them in Dallas. She had—and after two weeks’ worth of facials, manicures and new outfits, her mother went home.

While Emma went back to doing what she did best—fixing everyone else’s kids.

“We need dessert.” The chair squeaked as her mom stood. “You want a cookie? Homemade oatmeal raisin.”

She’d barely touched her dinner at the ranch, but comfort food sounded good. She accepted the plate her mother brought back from the kitchen and plucked a cookie from the top. Crumbly, just the way she liked them. She settled back on the couch, catching the crumbs with her hand. “You always made the best cookies, Mom.”

She smiled at the compliment. “You look like you need about ten more of them. I thought Dallas had all the best restaurants.”

“It does. We love eating out in the city. It’s just...” Just what? She was too stressed lately to eat? Too consumed with Cody’s issues to take care of herself? She wasn’t avoiding food. It just seemed so irrelevant compared to the bigger things going on in their life.

She intentionally took another cookie. “The campers and parents all ate together at Camp Hope earlier. I was really impressed with the way Max handled himself.” Shocked, too, but that detail wasn’t worth mentioning.

Her mother bit into her cookie, dusting crumbs from her pants onto the floor. “It wasn’t awkward, then?”

A raisin stuck in her throat, and Emma coughed, half choking as the raisin made a painful descent. “No—no, why would it be?” Did she know? After all this time, all the planning, all the carefully laid out details, her mother knew?

“Didn’t you hang out with him in high school a few times? When you were friends with what’s-her-name...Laura. That Laura girl, with the hair that came all the way to her bottom end.” Her mom gestured with her cookie.

Laura. The friend she used as an excuse when she decided to go out with Max. Emma winced. Laura existed, but the friendship wasn’t nearly what she’d implied back then. She couldn’t lie now—but she couldn’t totally evade the question, either, or her mom would grow even more curious.

She sipped her tea until her throat stopped burning from the coughing fit, then set the cup casually back on the table. “Yeah, I know Max. But it wasn’t awkward.” Awkward didn’t even begin to cut it.

Her mom tilted her head. “I wonder what happened to Laura. She seemed like a good kid. Maybe a little misguided, though.”

Good grief. Emma’s parents had been more sheltered than she thought. She knew she’d covered her tracks during her rebellious streak after senior year, but she hadn’t known she’d been that good. Laura was never without a cigarette in hand, even in the Broken Bend Church of Grace parking lot, and the stories of Laura’s weekend activities filled the chairs at the hair salon more than once. But that’s what happened when your father was a deacon and your mother taught Sunday school—not a lot of privacy, and a whole heap of judgment. Emma never knew for sure how she managed to get away with such a friend, but when compared to Max, Laura was a downright goody-goody.

“I think she moved away.” Like they all had, with their heads lowered in shame. Except for Max. Of all of them that hung out together that fateful summer, Max had been the one to stay and shape up his life. Talk about ironic.

She shifted uncomfortably on the couch. She couldn’t let the same thing happen to Cody, couldn’t let a season of bad choices ruin his life—or at least alter it forever. She couldn’t honestly say her own scarlet letter had ruined her life, but it’d definitely changed it. And left a permanent mark.

Cody deserved better. He had to take control now, before things spiraled out of everyone’s control. The judge was giving him a second chance at the right path, and if he didn’t take it, they’d all be roaming in the wilderness.

She couldn’t do that again—even if she deserved it.

Her mom sighed and ran her finger over the handle of her teacup. “I’ll never understand why you all wanted to get out of Broken Bend so badly. There’s something to be said for home, you know.”

Emma smiled and nodded, ignoring the tassel once again poking her in the back. Yes, there was.

But there was a lot more to be said for leaving.

* * *

Max hadn’t felt the urge to leave in a long time. But watching Nicole double over with her second contraction in the past two minutes made him want to turn his back on Broken Bend and bolt for the hills.

She turned wary eyes on him, as if somehow this whole situation were his fault, and braced both hands against her back. The morning sun shining behind her through the open barn doors served as a spotlight for her distorted silhouette. “Don’t even say it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Max didn’t know much about expectant women, but he knew enough to be quiet. About, well, everything—especially the particularly bad timing of this event. He was supposed to have a month—four weeks. An entire camp. This changed everything.

What was he going to do?

But it changed a lot more for Nicole, so he wouldn’t dare address it. He took two steps backward, out of the barn. So much for their morning trail ride. “I’ll get Luke.”

“I’m here.” Luke rushed up behind him, boots clomping on the dirt-packed floor, sending several horses jerking their heads in aggravation at the interruption. “I was just getting the horses saddled outside when Stacy told me what happened.” He rushed to Nicole’s side. “Are you okay?”

“I’m having a baby. I’m great.” She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes, laughed and then winced as what had to be another contraction crumpled her expression. “No. Not great. They’re getting closer together, and stronger.”

“So, I guess we’re not going riding.”

Max turned. Stacy, his oldest camper, a seventeen-year-old with curly blond hair, crossed her arms in the center of the barn aisle. The question in her voice held more than a bit of amusement, and even a punch of satisfaction. Something along the tune of I dare you to try to fix me now. You can’t even run your own camp.

He’d heard that tone before, and there was only one solution. Denial. “Of course we’re still going riding.” He cleared his throat and lowered his voice an octave to show authority. “Luke will take Nicole to the hospital, and we’ll saddle up as planned. Tell the others.”

Stacy rolled her eyes but thankfully turned to obey.

Good enough for now. One hormonal woman at a time, and the one standing in front of him took first priority. He focused on Nicole, who was still alternating deep breaths with winces of pain as she waddled toward the back door of the barn—the one closest to the female dorms.

It was official. He was about to be one chaperone short of a camp. And with his other counselor, Faith, working only part-time since she had young children of her own, he now had no one to stay overnight with the female campers.

God, I need a plan here. And uh, Nicole needs a doctor. Looked like her baby would be four weeks early, unless they were able to stop the labor at the hospital. And even then, he knew enough to understand she’d likely be on full bed rest until the baby came. He swallowed his dismay. “You want me to call 9-1-1?”

Luke stopped as he caught up to Nicole and turned, shaking his head. “Her suitcase is ready. We’ll just grab it and head that way. I’ll call you if we need anything.” He started to say more, then stopped as Nicole clutched his arm. “See you later, man.” He ushered her away, and just like that, Max was left in a bind.

He breathed a prayer for safety for the baby and Nicole both, added one for sanity for Luke, and then headed into the sunlight to face ten campers.

Alone.

Make that another prayer of sanity for himself.

He forced a smile and took a deep breath as he faced his campers, some standing with concerned expressions, others feigning—or perhaps truly feeling—disinterest.

“So there’s been some excitement here on your first day.” He laughed, then cut it short when it sounded as awkward as it felt. “Nicole will be—uh, indisposed—for the rest of this camp session. For good reason, of course. I know she wishes she could be here with you guys. And girls.”

Great. Now he was stumbling all over himself, and the kids just stared at him, expecting answers, and he had none to give. He rolled in his lower lip. “Don’t worry, I’m working on a replacement now.” Or at least, he hoped God was, because he had zero ideas. Luke and Nicole had been his right hands bringing this camp together the past year, and now he was short. Leaving him handicapped and near panic.

His mind raced. He still had Faith, who would be there later that afternoon; Tim, the middle-aged chaplain who also acted as dorm leader and could stay with the guys overnight; and two college kids who served as activity chaperones as needed on a part-time basis. He could see if they’d offer a few more hours, maybe bribe them with gift cards to stay the night here and there to assist Tim. And if Nicole was able to stay on bed rest, then maybe Luke would still come do a few stints as much as he could until she actually had the baby.

He nodded slowly, trying not to panic. He could do this—but not without another female counselor. Someone from the church, maybe? They’d be willing to volunteer, at least, for the ministry angle. But who was qualified to do it? He didn’t just need a babysitter, he needed someone who could interact with these kids and reach them. Someone like Luke and Tim, who understood the guys, knew how to talk to them. Could love them without letting them get away with stuff.

His eyes landed on Cody, who seemed to be avoiding what was going on as he rubbed a black mare under her chin. Mental note—the boy liked animals. Just like Emma always had. He wondered briefly what other interests he shared with his mom—

Emma.

He swallowed as an idea lodged in his mind and refused to budge. Emma, with her child psychology degree. Emma, who was staying nearby at her mother’s and had nothing to do until Cody graduated the camp in a month.

Emma, who’d been the only other person at the table to speak up during the teens’ impromptu concert and showed ability to handle this group of unpredictable, miniature adults.

No. He couldn’t.

But as his eyes swept across his three female campers and landed on Stacy’s pointed smirk, resignation took over any lingering trace of pride. He had to ask her. There was no one else available on such short notice, certainly not anyone qualified. She could still keep her space from Cody since the majority of their activities were gender-separated. The first day trail ride was an exception, to get all the curious boy-girl stares out of each other’s systems. He’d make sure Cody didn’t feel smothered having Emma on the grounds.

But would she do it?

And could he really ask her?

“The details will work themselves out. I’ll get someone in here ASAP. For now, let’s go ahead and saddle up.” Max clapped his hands together, sending a few teens scurrying for their mounts and the others groaning and eyeing their horses with dismay. He knew the feeling. He pretty much wanted to moan and pout, too. God, I know this camp was Your idea, so I’m hoping You have a plan here.

His sinking heart confirmed what he knew and didn’t want to admit. God had a plan, all right.

He just really wished it weren’t going to have to involve Emma Shaver.