Читать книгу: «Reunited With The Bull Rider»

Chapter One

Tonight was no ordinary night, not for Amy Deerson, at least. She was about to meet the little girl she’d been asked to mentor. When the pastor called yesterday, she’d jumped at the opportunity to spend a few afternoons each week with a neglected child. At four years old, the girl was too young for the church-sponsored mentor program, and the pastor had suggested a private arrangement due to the circumstances. But first, Amy needed to meet the girl’s father. He had the ultimate say in whether she spent time with his daughter or not.

Taking a deep breath, Amy got out of the car and approached the church’s entrance. It was still chilly for late March in Sweet Dreams, Wyoming, but it wouldn’t be long before wildflowers bloomed. Just thinking about flowers, crafts, tea parties and other things small girls enjoyed put a bounce in her step. Don’t get ahead of yourself. This was the initial meeting. Until the dad agreed, it was not a done deal.

She’d prayed for so long to make a difference in a kid’s life, and God had answered.

Amy headed down the staircase to the meeting rooms. The low hum of male voices quickened her pace. What would the girl look like? Would they hit it off right away? And would the dad be cute?

Cute? Really, Amy? Who cared what the father looked like? A romance would be inappropriate given the situation. And, anyway, she’d been scorched at love twice. She would not put her heart on the line again.

The hallway walls were filled with pictures of kids doing crafts at previous vacation Bible schools. Excitement spurred her forward. Life was falling into place. Business was booming at her quilt shop, she’d finally gotten up the nerve to submit a portfolio of her fabric designs to several manufacturers and now this! She’d never intended to remain single, but that’s how life had worked out. Helping this little girl would ease the longing in her heart for a child of her own.

She peeked into the preschool room. Hannah Moore, the pastor’s wife, was standing next to their toddler son, Daniel, and a young girl.

It’s her!

Dark blond hair cascaded over the girl’s shoulders. She looked woefully thin under a purple sweater and striped leggings. Amy couldn’t see her face, but she stood stiffly near Daniel, who was pushing a toy dump truck on the colorful ABC area rug. As much as Amy longed to join them, she continued toward the door at the end of the hall where Pastor Moore was waiting with the father.

Entering the conference room, she greeted the pastor then turned her attention to the man sitting at the end of the table. Her stomach plunged to her toes, the sensation worse than the roller coaster incident in eighth grade.

No! This can’t be... He can’t be...

Her knees wobbled to the brink of collapse. Unable to hear a word the pastor was saying, she shook her head, her gaze locked on familiar blue-green eyes. Every instinct screamed for her to run, to get out of there, to make sense of the fact Nash Bolton was in the room.

Nash. The man she’d loved completely. The one she’d thought she’d marry. The guy who had left town over a decade ago—no goodbye, no explanation. The jerk who had never come back.

It hit her then... The little girl she’d been asked to unofficially mentor?

His daughter.

She was having a nightmare. She’d wake up and be in her bed under her favorite quilt—

“Thank you for meeting us tonight,” Pastor Moore said.

It wasn’t a nightmare. And yet it was.

She blinked a few times and sat in the nearest chair, forcing herself to focus on the pastor’s face. In his early thirties, he had a kind air about him.

“Sure.” She hoped her lips were curving into what could pass as a smile.

Pastor Moore gestured to Nash. “Amy Deerson, this is—”

“We know each other.” Nash’s deep voice was firm, and its familiar timbre unlocked memories she’d thought long gone.

She dared not look at him. Couldn’t handle whatever she would find in his expression. Regret? Sarcasm? Pity? Didn’t matter—her feelings for him were dead. She’d been over him for a long time—years and years. The shock of seeing him had sent her into a tizzy. That was all. In a few minutes, she’d be fine.

“Good.” The pastor took a seat opposite her. “I’ve had such a strong feeling about you helping little Ruby.”

Ruby. The girl’s name was Ruby.

“Amy has been training for several months to be a mentor. She’s passed her background checks and is willing to devote the extra time you mentioned Ruby needs. And with none of our other trained mentors available to help at this time, well...it seems ideal. With your permission, I’ll tell her about Ruby’s situation. Or would you like to?”

Nash brought his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. He looked older, his face harsher than she remembered. And he’d filled out. Still wiry, but with more muscles in his arms and chest. Gone was the young cowboy she’d loved. In his place was a chiseled man.

Their past flashed back. The day they’d met. Their first kiss. His big grin and slicing sense of humor. The future they’d planned. Oh, how her heart had overflowed for him. And then he’d disappeared, leaving her devastated.

And now he was back. And she—out of all the women in this town—had been asked to spend time with his child when all she’d wanted was to marry him and be the mother of his babies? God, You wouldn’t be this cruel. This is a joke, right?

“Pastor,” Nash said, “could you give us a moment, please?”

“Of course.” He stood. “I’ll see how it’s going in the preschool room. Be back in a few minutes.”

Amy straightened. She wanted to look away but didn’t. It had been ten years. She’d moved on. And the fact he had a daughter made it quite obvious he had, as well.

“I didn’t know, Amy. I never would have agreed to come if—”

“If you’d known I was involved.” She hated how snippy she sounded. And that his full lips and high cheekbones still made her chest flutter. His cropped brown hair gave him a maturity his previous waves had not. The laugh lines around his eyes were a kick in the gut. He’d been carefree, rising to the top of the professional bull riding circuit while she’d nursed a broken heart. And he hadn’t cared one bit.

He hadn’t loved her.

He’d loved someone else and had a baby with her.

“So, she’s your daughter.” She was surprised she wasn’t yelling at him.

“No.”

No? What was he talking about?

“She’s my little sister.”

“I know that’s not true,” she snapped. “You’re an orphan.”

“Yeah, about being an orphan.” He shifted his jaw. “Not quite.”

* * *

Nash had known moving back to Sweet Dreams was dumber than climbing on the world’s meanest bull while recovering from a broken rib, but he’d done both anyway. The bull hadn’t been nearly as scary as the thought of running into Amy. He’d been in town a mere week and already his worst fear had come true. Except this was even worse than running into her. This was...horrible...beyond bad.

He’d loved Amy more than anything on earth. That’s why he’d had to leave all those years ago—to protect her.

But now another female needed his protection. He would give Ruby all the love and normalcy he’d missed out on as a kid, and if it meant living in the same town as Amy, so be it.

He just hadn’t planned on running into her this soon. In fact, he hadn’t put any thought into what he’d do when he eventually did run into her, which was inevitable in a small town.

How could he tell her everything that needed to be said in a few minutes? It was hard to concentrate with her big coffee-colored eyes shooting knives his way, not to mention her long dark brown hair tumbling over her shoulders, reminding him of its silkiness. Creamy skin, curvy figure—she looked even better than when he’d left, and she’d been a knockout back then.

“What do you mean, ‘not quite’?” Her clipped words told him loud and clear how hard this was for her. He owed her...so much.

“I wasn’t an orphan. I lied to you.” It had been the only lie he’d told her. And it had torn them apart. She just didn’t know it.

“I see.”

He hesitated. “The pastor will be back soon, so I’ll give you the condensed version. My mother had me when she was fifteen years old. She was a drug addict and, at times, a prostitute. She told me she didn’t know who my father was—could have been any number of guys. I haven’t seen or talked to her in over ten years. In December I got a call saying she’d died of a heroin overdose. That’s when I found out I had a little sister.”

The chaos of the past four months gripped his muscles in relentless tension. He shrugged his shoulders one at a time to relieve it, which didn’t work. Amy stared at him with a mix of disbelief and disgust.

“How did you get custody of her then? Wouldn’t someone close to her, someone she was familiar with, raise her?”

“You’d think so, right?” He flexed his fingers. “Needless to say, my mother didn’t leave a will. Ruby’s father is like mine—unknown. Our mother was turning tricks for drugs at the time and had no idea who he was. Believe me, the courts and I did our best to find out. We had little to go on. No one else wants the kid.”

Amy’s face looked ready to crack into a million pieces. “Do you want her?”

“Yes.”

“A child isn’t a duty.”

“Exactly.” He lightly thumped his knuckles on the table. “That’s what I told the judge when I petitioned to be her guardian. I couldn’t let her grow up the way I did.” He hadn’t meant to admit the last part. When they’d dated, he’d purposely not discussed his upbringing with Amy. He hadn’t wanted her to know the depravity of his youth. Since he’d moved to Sweet Dreams from Sheridan, Wyoming, when he was thirteen, hiding his childhood hadn’t been difficult to do.

What did it matter now? He’d lost all rights with her the day he’d skipped town.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He had to get back on track. “Ruby’s been growing up in a bad—I’m talking highly dysfunctional—environment. The night our mother died, the police went to the apartment she’d been living in. Ruby was there, alone. No food. Heat was turned off. Electricity, too. Who knows how long she’d been there by herself? Believe me when I say the only stable times in the girl’s life have been when she was in foster care while our mother was in jail.”

Amy’s eyes widened, and she blinked rapidly. Then she lifted her chin. “Why here? Why bring her to Sweet Dreams?”

Because he’d had no other choice. Ten years ago he’d purchased a home nearby, but that had been when he’d still believed he could have it all, including Amy.

“I own property outside of town. As soon as the court awarded me custody, Ruby’s therapist recommended I get her settled as soon as possible, and she was adamant about Ruby needing stability. I’d bought the house and land before...well...before I left, but I’ve never lived there. I’ve been renting it out. The therapist urged me to raise Ruby here permanently.”

“Back up.” She brought her hand in front of her, palm out, fingers splayed. “You own a house here?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I didn’t know you at all.” She tucked her lips under as if trying to get her emotions under control. “Not an orphan. Bought a house—I’m assuming when we were still together. What else didn’t you tell me?”

Regret thundered through his veins. He wished he was on a bull, in the chute, ready to be released into the dirt arena. It was the only place he’d ever been able to escape. He imagined wrapping his hand with the rosined rope...

“Never mind. I don’t want to know.” She turned her head to the side, exposing the pale skin of her neck.

“The reason I left—”

“No.” She held her hand out. “You don’t get to do this now. I’m not interested in your confession. It’s too late. I’m here for one reason—to mentor a little girl. Whatever you want to get off your chest will have to stay there.”

“You would still help her?” Nash had to give it to her—she was courageous. He’d always admired her quiet strength, her morals, the way she’d soothe anything bothering him. And he’d thrown it all away.

“I don’t know.” Her dark eyebrows formed a V. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“She’s withdrawn, malnourished, fearful. She was placed with a young couple while the courts decided if I could be her permanent legal guardian. I visited as often as allowed. It took a long time before she warmed up to me. The day I gained custody was the day we moved here. The therapist thought it would be best. No more temporary living arrangements.”

“So you’re here to stay.”

“Yes.”

“For as long as Ruby needs.”

“Forever. Dottie Lavert will help out when she can. Clint’s nearby. Wade isn’t far. Marshall, too.” Clint Romine, Wade Croft and Marshall Graham were his best friends—practically his brothers—from his time at Yearling Group Home. They’d all been sent to the group foster home as young teens, and they’d stayed friends as adults.

“Good. Sounds like you don’t need me.”

“I wouldn’t be here if Ruby didn’t need someone. The therapist wants her to have a positive female influence. A consistent presence—someone who can give her a better understanding of how a caring woman acts. Basically, the opposite of our mother. It’s too much to ask of you, though. Like I said, I never in a million years would have dreamed...”

“What? That I would want to help a child?”

That you wouldn’t have a houseful of kids of your own. And he knew she didn’t. Clint had told him she was single. He had no clue why. She was the most nurturing person he knew.

“Clint told me you keep busy with your quilts and the store. I didn’t think you’d be willing to give up so much time for a stranger’s kid.”

“Yes, well, I like children, and I want to make a difference. I just think the situation is too bizarre for me to be Ruby’s mentor. It would be uncomfortable for us both.”

Exactly. This had been an extremely uncomfortable ten minutes.

“I agree. Hopefully, the pastor has someone else who can help. I’m not looking for a babysitter—I retired from bull riding and I’ll be spending all my time with Ruby until she starts school next year—but given the circumstances...well...she needs more than me.”

Amy wrapped her arms around her waist and didn’t reply.

The problems he’d faced over the past four months galloped back. Learning his mother was dead. Retiring from the profession he’d loved. Figuring out how to live in one spot when all he’d done was travel for a decade. Raising Ruby, who was emotionally stunted, when he had no idea how to be a parent. And this meeting—he’d been so hopeful the woman would be exactly what Ruby needed. From what the pastor said, no one else was available. A clawing feeling gripped his throat.

He wasn’t equipped for any of this. And he really hated failing.

“I hope you were able to catch up.” The pastor walked back in, a big smile on his face. “Amy, now that you are more aware of what Ruby has been through, do you have any questions? Concerns?”

“Yes.”

The hair on the back of Nash’s neck bristled.

“As Nash mentioned, we knew each other a long time ago. In fact, we dated. Given this information, don’t you think someone else should be paired with Ruby?”

“Well, it depends.” He cupped his chin, rubbing his jaw. “I’m assuming it wasn’t an amicable parting.”

Amy quickly shook her head. Nash looked away.

“If you both can put your personal feelings aside and keep Ruby the main priority, then I don’t think there’s a problem. But if there is any revenge in either of your hearts, I urge you to decline. You won’t be able to support Ruby the way that she needs. We must all work together for her. She’s been through enough. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes,” they replied at the same time.

“Since you dated some years ago, I’m guessing you’ve both moved on, so I don’t think it will be an issue. And it’s up to you two how much interaction you want to have. Amy, why don’t you meet Ruby before making any decisions?” The pastor tilted his head, watching her response. She considered for a moment before nodding. He smiled. “Good. I’ll take you down there. Nash, you wait here, and we can talk more when I get back.”

Nash tracked Amy’s moves as she left the room. An ache spread across his chest. She would never agree to help Ruby.

Lord, I can’t do this alone. Please have mercy on me.

He’d given Ruby a nice house, clothes, food and love, but he couldn’t give her a mother. The only woman he’d ever wanted was Amy, and he’d never forgive himself for leaving her in such a cowardly fashion. He hadn’t given her a warning, hadn’t even said goodbye.

Moving back to Sweet Dreams and glimpsing Amy occasionally would have been punishment enough, but being in regular contact with her?

He couldn’t imagine a more painful scenario.

She’d been his. And he’d forfeited all claims to her.

He should be glad Amy wouldn’t agree to this arrangement. Would make life easier for him. But where did that leave Ruby? He could not let his baby sister—the child he now considered his daughter—to grow up as damaged as him.

* * *

“You must be Ruby.” Amy crouched in front of the play kitchen where the tiny blonde stood. The girl flinched, backing up to the wall. Amy ached to put her at ease. “I’m Amy.”

Ruby’s mouth slackened, her blue-green eyes opening wide with distrust. Nash’s eyes. She resembled him in other ways, too. Wide forehead, high cheekbones. But Nash’s nose was longer, while Ruby’s was a perfect button.

Hannah and little Daniel were coloring pictures at one of the children’s tables. Amy wasn’t sure what to do. The girl’s body language shouted fear.

“Would you like me to read you a book?” Amy gestured to the beanbags next to a small bookshelf.

Ruby didn’t blink, didn’t move. Her lips trembled.

“It’s okay.” She longed to touch her cheek, to reassure her, but she sensed any physical contact would terrify the girl. “Why don’t I pick one out, and you can come over if you’d like?”

She crossed to the shelf and selected a Curious George picture book. Then she lowered her body into one of the beanbags. How she would get out of it, she had no idea. Boy, it was low to the ground. Ruby hadn’t moved but still stared intently at her. Amy plastered on a big smile and waved for her to come over.

Ruby didn’t so much as twitch.

Maybe if she started reading it, the girl would join her. She read the first five pages out loud and peeked over the cover. Still staring. She read five more pages. Ruby had drifted a few feet in her direction. Progress. She continued until the end. Ruby stood about three feet away, her eyes locked on Amy’s face.

“You know, pretty soon you’ll be able to go to school, and you’ll learn how to read.”

“I know some letters.” She spoke with a lisp.

Amy nodded, encouraging the sign of interest. What this child must have been through. Left unsupervised with no food or heat. Disgraceful.

“Do you see any letters you recognize on the cover?” Amy held the book out.

“E. O.” She pointed to the letters.

“Good job! You’re very smart. Do you want me to read another book?”

She didn’t respond.

“Why don’t I pick one out?”

Pastor Moore and Nash came into the room. Ruby raced to Nash, wrapping her arms around his legs as if she never wanted to let him go. The sight made Amy’s stomach clench. Ruby trusted Nash. It was obvious. And if Amy had to guess, the child didn’t trust another living soul.

“Hey, RuRu, how do you like this fun place? We’ll be coming to church here every Sunday.” He hoisted her into his arms, settling her on his hip. She let her head fall onto his shoulder and wound her arms around his neck. “Us grown-ups have to talk a few more minutes, so you stay here and color with Daniel, okay?”

She buried her face in his shoulder.

“Honey, I will only be gone a few minutes.” His voice was soft, tender. He glanced at Pastor Moore, then Amy. “Would you give us a sec?”

“Of course.” The pastor waited for Amy to join him, and they went back to the conference room. “What did you think?”

“I think you were right to contact me. I know it’s not the church’s traditional program, but she seems...well...a bit traumatized.”

“Yes. She’s been through a lot. Tell me, Amy, do you see yourself as being her mentor? Now that you know her situation? Not to mention the man who will be raising her is someone from your past?”

Ruby’s face, demeanor and adorable lisp all came to mind. Yes, she could see herself as the girl’s mentor. She longed to make life better—normal—for the sweet child. To earn Ruby’s trust would mean the world to her.

But interacting with Nash?

No.

Just no.

Sure, she’d moved on and didn’t need to know Nash’s reasons for leaving, but the hurt was still there. Even if she and Ruby only met privately, looking in the girl’s eyes would be like looking into Nash’s. Amy didn’t know if she could do it.

But how could she admit to the pastor all the thoughts churning in her brain?

“I have a lot of mixed emotions about this. If it was anyone but Nash, I’d be setting up a schedule tonight. She’s so teeny. And four years is a dear age.”

“Are you over him?” the pastor asked gently.

“Yes.” She nodded too quickly. “Haven’t seen him in a decade.”

“I see. Are you worried you won’t be able to handle a long-term commitment with Ruby?”

Was she? Any arrangement with Ruby meant interacting with Nash. What if she got mad at him, or he blurted out the reason he left and it devastated her? Would she still be able to give Ruby the attention she needed?

“Kind of. This is all sudden.”

“Let’s pray about it.” He bowed his head, and Amy clasped her hands. “Heavenly Father, You are all-knowing and almighty. Please give Amy and Nash clarity about what is best for Ruby. If Amy isn’t the person You have in mind to help, make that clear, and lead another of our church members to step forward and answer the call. Above all, we pray You will heal Ruby’s hurts and comfort her. Lead us to support Nash as he navigates the new waters of fatherhood. In Your name we pray.”

“Amen,” Amy whispered. The reference to answering the call pierced her conscience. It had been more than a year since she’d begun praying about mentoring a child. How many times had she prayed to be paired with a young boy or girl? Too many to count.

“If you’re willing, let’s ask Nash and Ruby to meet us here again tomorrow night. It will allow you to spend a little more time with her before making your decision. If you want to help, you and Nash can work out a schedule then. If not, I’ll talk to him about other options.”

“I think that’s a good idea. Are there any other mentors who could help Ruby?”

“Not at this time, but a few of our retired ladies might be willing to spend a Saturday afternoon each month with her.”