Lainie handed Drew the bottle of merlot, and he pulled the cork, releasing the scent of oak and blackberries.
She’d been right. It was too early to actually celebrate anything, but he’d had another motive to consider tonight a special occasion. He wanted to get to know her better, to spend some time with her, and he hadn’t been able to come up with a better reason to stick around in the kitchen this evening.
She removed two wineglasses from the small hutch and set them on the table, allowing him to fill them halfway.
Then he lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s to helping the young and old alike.”
“To cowboys and children.” She clinked her glass against his, then took a sip.
He did the same, yet it wasn’t their team effort to encourage charitable contributions for both ranches that he was thinking about. He actually liked the idea of working closely with Lainie. He liked it a lot.
“Are you looking forward to visiting Kidville?” he asked her. “Or...” He paused, realizing that her time spent in foster care might make a visit to a children’s home, even one as unique as that one appeared to be, stir up bad memories. And he didn’t want to open a Pandora’s Box of emotion.
“I’d like to take that tour,” she said softly. “Thanks for including me. Besides, it’ll be good for the blog, right?”
“Yes, that’s true. At this rate, we’ll have enough blog content for months.” He studied her face, those big brown eyes, the soft, plump lips. Her high cheekbones, like those of a top model, bore a slight blush.
Once again, it struck him that he’d seen her somewhere before. In his dreams, most likely. But in those nocturnal musings, she hadn’t been dressed in baggy denim or blouses buttoned to the throat. She’d worn sexy silk panties, which she kept hidden from sight and only revealed to her lover.
“Have you started the blog yet?” she asked.
Not really. When it came to sitting down in front of his laptop and actually opening up a Word document, he’d been dragging his feet.
“I’m still conducting the interviews,” he said. “I plan to talk to the younger men, too. Nate has an interesting story.”
“Does he?” Lainie ran the tip of her tongue across her top lip, licking a drop of wine.
Drew sucked in a breath. For a moment, he lost his train of thought. So he focused on his wineglass. Anything but that mouth, those lips and that tongue.
“I’d heard that Nate got married recently,” she said, “but not to the mother of his baby.”
Oh, yeah. They’d been talking about Nate.
“You heard right,” Drew said. “A few months back, a woman he’d once dated showed up here at the ranch, pregnant and battered by her new husband. She was looking for Nate and claimed the baby was his.”
“How tragic.” She did that thing with her tongue on her lip again, and he nearly forgot what they were talking about.
Nate and the baby. Right.
“Because of that beating, she went into premature labor,” Drew said, “she gave birth to little Jessie, then died from a brain bleed.”
Lainie cupped her hands around the stem of her goblet and scrunched her brow. “That poor woman. How sad.”
“It sure was. Her husband is now in prison for murder.” Drew reached for the bottle and replenished his wine. “More?”
She shook her head and placed her hand over the top of her glass. “What happened next?”
“Nate took custody of the baby and hooked up with Anna, the hospital social worker who’d been assigned to his case.” Drew took a sip of wine. He wondered if Lainie liked the merlot. She wasn’t drinking much.
She fingered the stem of the glass, her brow slightly furrowed. “Nate fell in love with his social worker?”
“Do you find that odd?”
Lainie smiled. “I can’t imagine a handsome young cowboy falling for any of the ones I had as a child.”
“Then Nate was lucky. Anna’s both pretty and loving. But for a while, he was afraid she’d find him lacking as a father, and that he’d lose custody of the baby as a result. But he was wrong, and now they’re married.”
“You were right. That’s an interesting story. But I have a question. You said the baby’s mother ‘claimed’ Nate was the father. Was he?”
“At first, Nate wasn’t sure. He told me that DNA didn’t make a man a daddy. And that you don’t have to be born into a family to belong to one.”
“That’s true,” Lainie said, brightening. “It’s an interesting take—and a good piece of advice. I’ll have to keep it in mind.”
“Advice? I’m not following you.”
She blinked a couple times, then let out a little giggle and shrugged her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I was just thinking out loud.”
And probably ruing the fact that she didn’t have a family of her own. Drew was about to comment, then realized he’d be wading into a slew of emotion he didn’t want to deal with. He had enough of that with Kara Lee, which had been made worse by maternal hormones. So he let it go.
He looked at Lainie’s left hand, the one he’d once touched, once held. She wasn’t wearing a ring, so he concluded she wasn’t involved with someone.
For a man who never mixed business with pleasure, he was tempted to make an exception this time.
“Is there a special man in your life?” he asked.
“No, not anymore. Actually, there really never was. Not one who was special.”
Drew sat up straighter, pumped by what sounded like good news. “That’s a little surprising.”
“What is?” She lifted her glass, studied the burgundy color in the kitchen light, then took a drink. “That I’m not engaged or seeing someone right now? Actually, the few men I thought were decent ended up disappointing me. I can ferret out the heart of a story, but apparently, I’m not very good at judging a man’s heart and character.”
“Sounds like you’re recovering from a painful breakup.”
Her shoulder twitched. Not quite a shrug, but a tell just the same. One that told him she’d been hurt in the past and possibly betrayed.
“I was too trusting,” she said. “But I’ll be a lot more careful in the future.”
Drew couldn’t say he blamed her. He’d built a few walls of his own, although that didn’t mean he hadn’t found the time for a casual but intimate relationship every now and then. And when he did, he was pretty selective.
The truth was, he found Lainie to be both attractive and completely acceptable in that regard. Would she feel the same way about him? To be blunt, would she be interested in having a short-term affair while they were both on the Rocking C?
Oh, hell. That was a crazy thought.
Lainie was the type of woman who was probably looking for a husband and kids—just like Kara Lee, who’d been on the prowl for Mr. Right and thought she’d found him in Craig Baxter.
And look how that had turned out. No, Drew didn’t have any misperceptions about love and living happily ever after.
So who was he to mess with Lainie’s heart?
He threw down the last of his merlot and said, “I’d better turn in for the night. Thanks for talking to me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be ready.”
He returned the cork to the nearly empty bottle and placed it in the fridge. But before turning to go, a thought overtook him. “Do you have anything other than jeans or overalls to wear?”
Her brow furrowed. “Yes, why?”
“I realize we’re just going to a ranch, but I told the Hoffmans you were my associate. So I thought you might want to... You know, dress the part?”
She looked down at her jeans and baggy blouse, then rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry. I know how to dress professionally.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. In fact, you have understated class and look great no matter what you wear. Forget I said anything.”
“You’re forgiven.” Her smile was pretty convincing. “Would business casual be acceptable?”
“That’d be perfect.” He lobbed her an appreciative grin, then headed outside.
By the time he’d shut the back door, his lips had quirked into a full-on smile. Now he had something to look forward to.
And so did his nocturnal musings.
At nine o’clock on Friday morning, Brad’s mother, Molly Jamison, arrived at the Rocking C Ranch driving a white Ford Taurus that had seen better days—or make that years. Lainie had been looking forward to meeting her, so she went outside to greet her in the yard.
But when a petite redhead in her midthirties climbed out of the car and pulled out a suitcase that was nearly as big as she was, Lainie’s steps slowed.
Brad had to be close to twenty, so Lainie had imagined his mother to be in her forties or fifties. But she must have been a teenager when she’d given birth.
Not that it mattered. Tamping down her surprise, Lainie crossed the yard, introduced herself and reached out her hand in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you. Do you need help with your luggage?”
“I don’t have much,” Molly said. “Just a single suitcase and an overnight bag.”
Before Lainie could offer to show her where she’d be staying, Brad came out of the barn wearing a great big grin on his face. “Hey, Mom. I’m glad you’re here. I’ll take your stuff and put it in the cabin. I know you’re eager to get a tour of the house and meet the men who live here.”
“Thanks, honey.” Molly blessed her son, who stood a good six inches taller than her, with a warm smile. “I’m also ready to roll up my sleeves and help out.”
“Let’s start with a tour of the kitchen,” Lainie said.
Molly resembled a young, red-haired Dolly Parton, but without the big hair, double Ds and the sparkle. Still, she had a sweet smile and a happy voice. Lainie liked her instantly.
She and Molly also had a lot in common, including the fact that they’d had to pull themselves up by their proverbial bootstraps, a fondness for the elderly and underprivileged children and a willingness to work.
So when it was time to go with Drew to Kidville, Lainie didn’t have any qualms about leaving. The men would be in good hands with Molly.
Now, as Drew slid behind the wheel of his black pickup, which boasted all the bells and whistles, Lainie sat in the passenger seat, checking out the GPS and what appeared to be an upgraded sound system. The impressive, late-model truck had that new-car smell. At least, it did until Drew shut the driver’s door, filling the cab with his faint, woodsy scent. “Ready?” He glanced across the console at Lainie, stirring her senses to the point of distraction. “Buckle up.”
“You bet.” But it wasn’t just her body that needed to be secured with a seat belt. When it came to Drew, she feared her heart might be in for a bumpy ride.
She tried to keep her mind on the road ahead—and not on the bigger-than-life cowboy driving. But that was hard to do when he cut another glance her way, his eyes sparking. “You look great, Lainie.”
Her cheeks warmed at the compliment.
“It wasn’t easy to lay aside my overalls.”
“Seriously?” He shot another look across the console, his brow furrowed.
She laughed, made a fist and gently punched his arm. “I’m kidding.”
“Seriously,” he said, “that’s exactly the professional style I had in mind.”
“I told you that I knew how to dress.” She’d chosen a pair of low heels, black slacks and a tailored white blouse. She’d topped off her outfit with a red plaid scarf, then pulled her hair up into a topknot.
“I’m sorry for doubting you. You look great.” He grinned, then winked before returning his gaze to the road ahead. A couple of miles later, he pointed to the right. “There it is. It sure looks a lot different than it did when the Clancys owned it. The perimeter used to be surrounded by rusted-out barbed wire and leaning posts. But not now. The Hoffmans have made a lot of changes to the place. If I hadn’t seen pictures on the internet, I wouldn’t have recognized it from before.”
Lainie noted the solid, six-foot fence made of cinderblock posts and wooden slats. “It looks like they meant to protect the property and keep the children safe.”
Drew turned into the driveway, where they stopped in front of a black, wrought iron gate. Using an intercom/phone system, he called the office. Once he identified himself, the doors swung open, granting them access to the property.
He continued on to a graveled lot and parked between a white minivan and a red sedan. They got out of his truck and headed for an arched entryway made of adobe brick. A wooden sign overhead read: Welcome to Kidville, Texas. Population 134.
“Do you think they have that many children living here?” Lainie asked.
“Brad said there was about a dozen, and Jim gave me the impression they’d just begun taking in kids. I think that’s just their way of making Kidville sound like a real town.”
She nodded, then continued along the dirt road, passing under the sign. Her steps slowed as she took in the grassy areas, a red schoolhouse, a newspaper office and even a hotel. The only areas without the quaint, Old West look were a volleyball court, a baseball field and a playground that provided a swing set, several different slides and a colorful climbing structure.
“Kidville’s layout is amazing,” she said. “No, it’s actually mind-boggling.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.” Drew gestured for her to take the wooden sidewalk that led to the hotel.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Sure, she’d watched television shows with similar settings, carefully constructed building facades and wooden sidewalks that portrayed Western life in the late 1800s. She’d also experienced living in a children’s home for a while, but she’d never imagined seeing the two combined into one.
Drew had to be equally impressed because he took out his cell and began to take a picture.
“No, don’t.” She reached for his arm to stop him. “I would have brought my camera with me, but I’m sure they have privacy rules in place to protect the children. We should get permission from the Hoffmans first.”
“Good point.” Drew returned his cell to his pocket. “I hadn’t thought about that. I’m glad you did.”
“Where are we supposed to go?” she asked.
“Jim told me that the main office is located in the hotel, although he and his wife live in that white, two-story house next to the ball field.”
Lainie spotted it right away. “Do you think all the children sleep in the house?”
“It looks big enough for some of them, but I didn’t ask him about the number of kids they had or the living arrangements. Brad mentioned that his mom would be staying here, so there could be other staff members supervising children at night in some of the outbuildings.”
In spite of the quaint setting, apprehension crawled through Lainie’s stomach. Her thoughts drifted back to the day her caseworker had taken her from the hospital to the receiving home, where she was to complete her recovery.
She’d been walking slowly that day, more from fear and loneliness than pain. The woman had sensed her distress and had taken her hand to provide comfort and reassurance.
That lasted only about five minutes. Then Lainie was handed over to an employee who cared more about her need for a cigarette break than Lainie’s need to feel safe and secure.
How odd, she thought, that those feelings would creep back again today, as if she were being taken to a new home and to yet another, unfamiliar placement.
She wiped her palms on her slacks. When Drew’s arm bumped her shoulder, she was tempted to take his hand in hers for reassurance. And it annoyed her that, at times, the past still seemed to have power over her.
“It sure is quiet,” Drew said. “I wonder where all the kids are.”
“Probably in school. A lot of children who come from broken, neglectful homes have never lived in an environment that encouraged education. So many of them lag behind in the classroom and struggle with their studies.”
“Did you?” he asked.
“Yes, before my dad died. After that, I tended to bury my nose in a book and focus on my homework.”
“Instead of boys?”
“Absolutely. Boys were a dead end.” And in her experience, so were the grown-up versions for the most part. “My studies helped me forget what was going on around me.” She scanned the quiet grounds. “I wonder if the kids are tutored here or if they go to a public school in town.”
“Let’s find out.”
As she and Drew approached the hotel, a balding, heavyset man in his late fifties opened the door and came outside to welcome them. “I’m Jim Hoffman.”
Drew introduced himself and Lainie, and they all shook hands.
“Come inside. My wife wants to go on the tour with us, but she’s got some business to take care of first.” Jim led the way into the hotel.
Lainie didn’t know what she’d been expecting. Something to match the exterior façade, she supposed, but the reception area looked more like a modern living room, with overstuffed sofas and chairs upholstered in faux leather, a southwestern style area rug and potted plants throughout.
A tall, slender redhead in her late fifties sat on one of the sofas, next to a boy with messy, dark hair who appeared to be seven or eight. She was telling him to be patient, that he’d see his little brothers soon.
“But you don’t understand.” The boy’s brown eyes filled with tears. “They don’t have nobody but me to take care of them. What if someone doesn’t turn the light on for them at night? Abel is scared of the dark. And what if they don’t know how to rub Mario’s tummy when it hurts?”
“I promise to call their foster parents,” the redhead told the worried child. “I’ll make sure they know what to do.”
The boy swiped at his tear-streaked face. His frown eased a bit, but he didn’t appear to be completely convinced that all would be well.
“Donna?” Jim said, “I’d like to introduce you to Drew and Lainie, the people I told you about from the Rocking Chair Ranch.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” She offered them a warm smile, then turned to the boy and placed her hand on his small, thin shoulder. “This is Andre. Mrs. Tran, his social worker, just brought him this afternoon to stay with us. He’s going to join us for the first part of our tour, which will be the schoolhouse, and then we’ll introduce him to his new friends and teacher.”
The child sniffed, then bit down on his bottom lip.
“Hey, Andre,” Drew said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
The boy studied Drew, scanning him from his hat to his boots. Sizing him up, it seemed. “Are you a cowboy?”
Drew smiled. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”
The boy’s eyes widened, and his lips parted. “A real one?”
“Well, I grew up on a ranch. And I work with the rodeo now.”
“Do you have your own horse?” the boy asked.
“I used to.”
Andre’s shoulders slumped, clearly disappointed. He glanced down at his sneakers, one of which was untied, then looked at Drew. “But you do know about horses, right?”
“I sure do.”
The boy looked at the Hoffmans and frowned. “Mrs. Tran told me there were horses here. But that’s not true. They don’t have any.”
“We don’t have any yet,” Donna said. “We’re working on it, though.”
“We do have plans to buy a couple of good riding horses in the future,” Jim interjected. “But in the meantime, we have plenty of other animals, like rabbits and sheep and goats. We even have barn kittens and a couple old dogs who’ll lick your face and play ball with you.”
“I know,” the boy said. “But...” He scrunched his face and blew out a sigh, clearly perplexed about something. Then he looked at Drew. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Go ahead.”
“When people have a bad leg and can’t walk too good, can they still ride a horse?”
“I’m sure they can.” Drew looked at Donna, who placed her hand on Andre’s small shoulder.
“When Andre was four,” she explained, “he broke his foot. The bone wasn’t set properly, and there wasn’t any follow-up treatment. So it left him with a pronounced limp. But fortunately, we have an appointment for him to see an orthopedic surgeon next week, and we’re hopeful that they’ll be able to correct that for him.”
“But in case they don’t,” Andre said, his big brown eyes seeking out Drew, “do you think I can still learn to ride someday? I want to be a cowboy when I grow up, and you can’t be a very good one if you don’t have a horse.”
“I’ll tell you what,” Drew said, “if it’s okay with the Hoffmans, I’d be happy to give you a riding lesson, even if I have to borrow the horse.”
The boy turned to Jim. “Is it okay? Will you let me?”
“I don’t see why not. I’ll talk to Mr. Madison and see what we can work out. But for now, you’d better go to the schoolhouse and meet your new teacher and the other children.”
Donna stood and reached for Andre’s hand, helping him up. Then she walked with him to the door.
Lainie followed behind, observing the boy’s uneven gait. One of his legs was clearly shorter than the other. Her heart ached for him, and she lifted her hand to finger her chest. She knew how it felt to have her medical care neglected, to face a painful surgery without anyone to offer comfort and reassurance.
Would one of the Hoffmans stay at Andre’s bedside, like the loving parents of other hospitalized kids had done? She certainly hoped they would.
When they reached the red schoolhouse, they went inside. The classroom smelled of crayons and white paste, reminding Lainie of days gone by. The teacher was collecting a math worksheet from her six students—seven, now that Andre had arrived.
“This is a combination class,” Jim explained while his wife led Andre to the teacher. “They’re in first, second or third grade.”
The teacher, a blonde in her midthirties, offered the boy a kind smile. “I’m Mrs. Wright, Andre. I heard you were coming, and I’m so glad you’re here. You’re just in time for recess and an afternoon snack.”
After leaving Andre with his new classmates, Donna led the tour outside, letting the door close behind them.
“That poor child has had a real time of it,” Donna said. “He’s the oldest of three boys, and up until child protective services stepped in to rescue them from an abusive home, he did his best to look out for his younger brothers.”
“Where are the other boys?” Lainie asked Donna.
“In a separate foster home. We’d like to bring them here, but we don’t have the staff or the resources to take in preschoolers yet.”
“That’s something else we’re working on,” Jim said.
Lainie hoped adding younger kids would be a priority over the horses. And that the Hoffmans would be able to take in Andre’s brothers soon. It was so unfair, and the injustice of the situation sparked her into action.
“Siblings shouldn’t be separated,” Lainie said. “I can tell you right now, we’ll do whatever we can to help you get more funding—and to provide Andre’s brothers a home at Kidville.”
Donna pressed her hand to her throat. “I’m overwhelmed—and so glad to hear that.”
Lainie glanced at Drew, aware that he might not approve of her making a commitment like that without talking it over with him first. It would be nice to have his blessing, but she’d meant what she said. Kidville was going to be her newest project—and she hadn’t even gotten the full tour.