Love Inspired January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Her Unexpected Cowboy\His Ideal Match\The Rancher's Secret Son (42 page)

She drew a breath, maintaining eye contact with them all, especially Stacy, whom she had the farthest to go to reach. Second step, initiate heart. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Personally, I'd like to have fun with you girls. I'm not here to braid hair and paint fingernails and be your best friend. But I really don't want to be a dictator, either.”

That seemed to reach Katie, whose expression flickered briefly before morphing back to neutral.

Emma held her breath, intentionally uncrossing her arms, wanting to appear open and approachable. Third step, issue invitation. “What do y'all say to meeting in the middle?”

Silence registered, as all the girls plucked at loose threads in their jeans or on their bed comforters.

So it wasn't going to be that easy. Maybe she needed to play a little dirty. She shifted her weight to one side and tilted her head casually to the other. “I know you're all really loyal to Faith, but can't you give me a chance?”

Katie jerked her head up so fast, her short red hair flew across her cheeks. “What? We barely know Faith.”

“But I've seen you with her already, all buddy-buddy.” She glanced at Stacy, who frowned slightly. She knew that would get to the older teen. The last thing the rebellious girl wanted would be to seem like she was in tight with an authority figure. Emma shrugged as though it didn't matter. “I guess that's only fair. After all, she seems pretty cool.” Max certainly thought so, anyway.

“Faith isn't cool. She's a mom.” The words flew out of Stacy's lips so quickly, she was done talking before Emma could even look at her.

She hesitated, not having expected that answer. “I'm a mom.”

“Exactly.” Stacy leveled her gaze at her. “Moms aren't cool.”

“Says who?” She refused to be offended. Though it sort of stung because she knew that was how Cody saw her and that he would only continue seeing her as less and less cool—or admirable, at the least—as he grew up. The thought dug in and twisted.

“Faith isn't that bad.” Katie's tentative voice pierced the weighty silence. She played with the dresser drawer pull, letting the metal piece bounce between her fingers and the wood with a steady tap. “She taught you how to stay on your horse today during the trail ride.”

“Shut up.” The look Stacy shot Katie could have melted concrete. “I didn't need help.”

Tonya laughed, finally moving away from the mirror to sit on her bed across from Stacy's. “Yeah, right. You were whiter than those bedsheets.”

Stacy threw her shoe at Tonya, who dodged it with a shriek—the first undignified, emotional reaction Emma had seen from the girl yet. Progress in some ways, probably, but she was losing control—if she'd ever had any in the first place. She raised her voice to be heard over the commotion, implementing the next measure in her strategy. “So you guys wouldn't prefer Faith to be your full-time counselor instead of me?”

The looks the girls shot her clearly said they weren't particularly partial to either of them. Perfect. Emma wouldn't be making up ground, but rather, carving her own path. That would make it a lot easier to reach them if she wasn't playing catch-up. “Good.”

She should have stopped there, but her mind wouldn't cut the connection to her lips fast enough. Some deep part of her needed these girls to laugh, to like her. To respond to her. To make up for how Cody didn't. She winked. “I promise I won't smile as much as she does, okay?”

Stacy's gaze darted over Emma's shoulder and then dropped to her lap as a reluctant grin spread across her face. She wasn't going to challenge. Score one. Emma glanced at Tonya, who seemed the second-hardest one in the group, and was rewarded with a genuine grin. Or maybe it was another smirk. Oh, well, close enough. Next she looked to Katie, who giggled uncontrollably. Well, that was easy enough.

She'd done it. Won them over for now. Relieved, she allowed herself a moment to relax. “So, how about some dinner?”

“Actually...”

Emma spun around at the sweet voice sounding from behind her. Oh, no.

Faith.

The ponytailed counselor slid her hands on her trim hips and arched one eyebrow at Emma. “I thought we'd just stay in here so I could give smiling lessons.”

Chapter Six

W
ednesday started early, as evidenced by the chorus of groans as Max paced before his troops, a whistle tucked between his lips. Dew wet the top of his boots, and the late October chill cut through his button-down shirt. He struggled to keep his mind on the yawning teens before him, rather than dwelling on how cute Emma looked first thing in the morning, hair haphazard while wearing jeans and a rumpled sweatshirt. Her charges, though grumpy, were there on the chalked meeting line by the barn, on time and wearing the required work clothes. He was impressed—not bad, since Emma hadn't even gotten the camp schedule until last night at dinner.

Where she'd been quieter than he expected. Maybe her headache hadn't fully gone away by the time they'd been served steaming chicken and dumplings. Then again, did he know anything about Emma well enough anymore to make assumptions? He considered questioning Faith about her, but he didn't want to give the other counselor the wrong idea about him and Emma. He and Emma were definitely no longer “he and Emma.”

No matter how much her makeup-free image reminded him of the younger version that still stalked his dreams.

Yeah. Time to get to business.

Max blew the whistle, and Cody clapped his hands over his ears. He fought the wave of sympathy rising in his chest. Growing up, his reaction to sudden sounds had always been the exact same, which got to be embarrassing as he grew older and the mere sound of a chair scraping against the floor in school would be enough to send his hands flying to his head. He eventually broke himself of the habit. Hopefully Cody would, too.

At least the young guy had taken the news of his mom filling in as counselor like a champ. There'd been a hint of panic in Cody's eyes at first, but as Max explained that he would rarely even see Emma besides at mealtimes and during occasional group projects, he'd shrugged it off—probably thinking his easy acceptance would win him brownie points later. Max would have to be careful to keep an eye on that and make sure Cody didn't play Emma against him or vice versa. One hint of that and he'd stop it immediately.

Yesterday, Max was Mr. Nice Guy. Today that would change. He had the teens' best interests at heart—and while their first day had been all about rest time and chicken and dumplings, today, tough love was the main course.

Hopefully Emma would be able to hack it.

He blew the whistle again in two quick successions. “Listen up!” The kids stared blankly, except for Cody, who slowly lowered his hands from his ears and scowled. “First on the agenda is barn chores. Then after breakfast, where you'll receive exactly one half hour to eat, we'll move on to the obstacle course.”

That got their attention. Some of the boys grinned and nudged each other with excitement, but the girls looked beyond confused. “Obstacle course?” Katie's red eyebrows nearly disappeared into her matching hairline. “Like, with ropes and barbed wire and stuff?”

“You'll have to wait and see.” At one time he'd considered making a separate course for the girls, an easier one, but Nicole had almost taken his head off at the suggestion. Ever since, he'd seen how the girls in each camp had proven themselves time and again. These kids needed a challenge, the girls especially needing to see their own strength, the boys learning how to channel that strength into something positive.

Not for the first time, he wished he'd had someone to drag his teenaged rear end through an obstacle course, to force him to reach beyond himself and for new heights. Then maybe he wouldn't have turned to girls, alcohol and drugs to fill the yawning spaces left behind from his father.

Enough of that. He blew the whistle. “To the barn.” The teens groaned, and he silenced them with a look. “All the horses are to be loosed in the paddock. Halters go in the tack room on the hooks. And remember—never approach a horse from the back unless you're partial to getting kicked.”

Emma's lips twitched at that one, and he wondered if she was remembering the time he “borrowed” Mr. Judson's mare for a joyride late one night after enjoying too many beers—and gotten exactly what he deserved in the form of a horseshoe imprint on his thigh. His leg twinged at the memory. Yet the most vivid detail of that night was Emma, perched on the fence railing, head tilted and blond hair streaming down her back in the moonlight as she watched for shooting stars.

His gaze darted to her stoic expression in line, and the memory faded. Whatever she'd once seen in him, she certainly didn't anymore. Not that he deserved it—then or now. Sure, he'd turned his life around, but he'd put Emma through the ringer in the meantime. No wonder she deserted him all those years ago. Her temporary draw to the “bad boy next door” had been exactly that—temporary. He never deserved her. Maybe she finally realized that same fact and moved on. Maybe her reasons for never returning had been as simple as that.

With another whistle blow, he herded the kids toward the barn, wishing with all his heart that some mistakes weren't permanent.

* * *

Max had failed to mention that as chaperone, Emma was obligated to interact with the teens in the midst of their projects. Riding horses, brushing horses, cleaning stalls—and, apparently, crawling under barbed wire.

She winced as once again her hair snagged in the fencing above her head. She propped on one elbow in the dirt and reached up to free the tangle with her other hand, trying to note where her girls had gone. Katie and Stacy had taken to the course as if they'd already been through military basic training, flawlessly running the tires and scooting under the barbed wire like a couple of prairie dogs.

At least the exertion had fought against the midmorning chill in the air. She could feel most of her toes, though not many of her fingers. Probably because they were half-buried in the earth. So much for her last manicure.

Though at the moment, nail care was the least of her worries. Some counselor she was, having already lost over half her group. She could only hope they had gone ahead with the rest of the boys who had finished the course. She couldn't raise her head far enough right now to check.

“Need help?”

She tilted her head and peered as far sideways as she could without risking another tangle or mouthful of dirt. Faith, bright-eyed and exhilarated, grinned from her position a yard or two away, looking as if she did this kind of thing every day.

“You probably think I deserve this.” Emma wasn't sure which rubbed worse—her verbal blunder in front of the fellow counselor at the dorms yesterday, or the sand currently gritting in her teeth.

Faith army-crawled toward her and laughed. “I know I smile a lot. It's my trademark.” She reached over and freed another piece of Emma's hair she hadn't even realized was stuck. “I can't be angry at you for noticing.”

“I really wasn't making fun of you.” Emma felt about three inches tall, which was pretty accurate seeing how she was crawling through cold mud. “I just—”

“Wanted the girls to like you?” Faith motioned for them to keep going, and Emma pushed herself to follow the younger woman's lead as they neared the end of the course. “I felt the same way when I started here last year. All this pressure to ‘fix' these kids at whatever cost.” She crawled a few more paces, then slid out from under the last string of wire and stood, offering her hand to Emma. “I forgot that fixing them wasn't in my job description.”

Emma accepted the offer, then slid to her feet and started to brush the dirt off her clothes before realizing the effort was futile. If helping the teenagers wasn't the counselors' job, then whose was it? She met Faith's frank, open stare and raised her eyebrows in silent question.

Faith crossed her arms over her stained T-shirt. “I had to remember that was God's job.”

Oh.

“I'm here to guide them—but I'm not responsible for their success.” She hesitated. “Or their failure.”

Great. Now she felt about two inches tall. This was a faith-centered camp, and she'd already tried to usurp God by her own efforts—and made fun of a fellow counselor in the process.

Emma swallowed, ignoring the aftertaste of dirt—and crow. “You're right. That's priority.” Or it needed to be, anyway. But how could she lead by an example she wasn't following herself?

Faith started to speak, but a muffled cry sounded from behind them. Emma turned to see Tonya still attempting to make it through the barbed wire course. Despite the teen's lithe figure, she struggled to progress—likely because of having less muscle tone capable of pulling her forward. Emma knew; she had faced the same problem. Sitting in her office, seeing patients the past several years in a row had clearly done nothing for her endurance.

Or apparently, her own emotional health.

Emma shook off the guilt and focused on Tonya. “Use your knees.” She immediately dropped to her own, her faded jeans sinking into the dirt, and gestured to Tonya through the rows of barbed wire. “Dig in with your forearms, not just your elbows.”

Tonya let out a muffled cry of defeat, her face twisted into a mask of helplessness. Gone was the facade of “I've got it all together,” the masked image of “I belong on a runway.” Suddenly, she resembled exactly what she was—a scared, dirt-streaked young girl. “I can't.”

Well, she had to, unless Max was willing to cut the course apart to get her out. Emma glanced at him across the field, several yards away, blowing his whistle as the group gathered at the next challenge. Somehow, she didn't figure he would.

Faith touched Emma's shoulder and she jerked, having almost forgotten the counselor was there. “Do you need me?”

Emma couldn't express how much she appreciated that trust—so undeserved. She shook her head. “No, I'll talk her out. Don't worry.”

“I wasn't worried in the least.” Faith proved her statement by wiggling her fingers in a wave and heading toward the rest of the group without a single glance back.

It was up to Emma.

She directed her attention back to Tonya. “You
can
do it. I know you're tired, but it's a lot better on this side. Trust me.” There was a metaphor somewhere in that, but neither of them had the time to go there now. Next crisis, maybe.

Tears slipped down the teen's beautiful, cocoa-colored cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I'm dizzy.”

Probably from stress. A lot of her patients manifested stress physically through headaches, nausea or dizziness. Emma leaned forward on her knees, tilting her head to meet Tonya's bleary gaze. “Try again. Slowly.”

Tonya shook her head rapidly. Great. Now her hair was threatening to tangle, and if that happened, Emma might as well go grab some wire cutters. There was only one thing to do. With a resigned breath, she lowered herself flat on her stomach and began crawling into the dreaded course to meet her.

Surprise highlighted Tonya's glistening eyes. “You came back.” Relief saturated her voice so completely Emma couldn't help but smile.

“I'm on your team.” She held the teen's gaze to make her point, then tapped her dirt-caked hands. “Now dig.”

Tonya's lips pursed and she took a deep breath, then began pulling herself forward.

“Forearms.”

She adjusted her form and Emma began to crawl backward to get out of her way. After several bogged moments in the mud, they finally slipped under the end of the wires together and stood.

“Thanks.” A red flush tinted Tonya's face and she looked down, then away, the mask vacant but starting to flicker. “You know, for doing that. Coming back in and everything.”

The immediate expression of gratitude still caught Emma off guard. She wanted to turn the incident into a lesson, but sometimes, the best lessons learned were the ones that weren't forced. “No woman gets left behind.”

A surprised smile quirked the corners of Tonya's mouth, then faded. “Not everyone thinks so.” Her gaze darted to her teammates, who Emma could now clearly see were well on their way to the next event.

“You'll realize, probably sooner than you want, that friends don't always make the best choices.” She flicked her hand to dismiss her before Tonya could revert to distant default. Emma wanted to leave this battlefield one step ahead. “Go on, now. The next challenge awaits.”

“I'm pretty sure a significant one was already met.”

She spun around at Max's voice in such close proximity. “Max.” Her heart raced, and she squeezed her cold fingers into a fist. He still had the ability to get her blood pressure up.

She refused to ponder why.

His eyes warmed as they drew her in. Vaguely, she noticed Tonya jogging toward her group, but really, all she could take in was the way Max's T-shirt hugged his muscles. He'd apparently shed the work shirt from earlier that morning, and the heather-gray color did dangerous things to his eyes.

And her heart.

He smiled, oblivious to the reaction she fought so hard in his presence. Anger, that was it. It had to be a weird visceral response to the years of bitterness toward him. Nothing more. Not attraction. Not curiosity.

Definitely not regret.

He ran his hand briefly over his hair, cowboy-hat free in honor of the course. “That was great.” He gestured toward the barbed wire course with a tanned arm. “Faith told me Tonya was having trouble but that you had it under control.”

Yet he still had to come see for himself? Well, she couldn't hold that against him. Other things, yes, but not that.

She forced a smile in return. “She just needed some encouragement.”

“I saw you go get her.” Max reached out and briefly touched her arm. The graze of his fingers burned and she jerked automatically away from the impact. “A lot of ground was covered. And not just literally. I'm impressed.”

“I did what anyone would do.” She crossed her arms to avoid another congratulating pat, not sure she had enough bitterness riled up at the moment to be a sufficient barrier. Her heart soared at the thought she'd actually made a difference toward Tonya, and that she'd made the right choice in how she'd handled the girl's struggle. Maybe she could do some good at the camp after all.