Last Chance Cowboy. Leigh Riker
She’d never actually abandoned Ava, but they were still apart for now and Shadow ached to be with her. Maybe she could have handled things better. She picked up her bag with a trembling hand. “The next time Mama needs help, I’ll drive her to the store. Pay right there for whatever she needs. I won’t let another dime pass from her hands to yours. Are we clear, Derek?”
He shot Shadow a sullen look. He hadn’t moved from the doorway. Shadow cautioned herself not to let this get any more out of hand than it already had. Derek wasn’t a bad person, but he was still immature in many ways, with a mother who never held him to account. She often treated him as if he were five years old and had been pushed down on a playground.
It was as if Jared’s shooting years ago had frozen Derek at fifteen and, shattered then, he had never finished growing up.
Despite their testy exchange, Shadow still wanted to somehow...save him, as if she could. But she needed to focus on Ava.
She pushed past Derek into the short hall that led to the front door. “I meant what I said about Mama. For now, until the water heater gets fixed, which I’ll pay for, you’ll have to take a few cold showers.”
* * *
WITH A CUP of coffee in one hand and juggling a paper bag in the other, Jenna called up the stairs. If Ava didn’t hurry, she’d miss the bus. With only a few days left in the school year, her niece’s motivation seemed to be lacking, and on such a blue-sky day Jenna knew she must already be thinking of playing with her friends all day at camp. Or, at least, that’s how it had been last summer and the summer before.
“Ava! The bus is turning the corner. Get a move on.”
A moment later, footsteps clattered down the stairs. Ava streaked into the front hall wearing a pair of patterned leggings and a bright blue tunic, and Jenna pushed her lunch bag into her hands. She wore her dark hair in a ponytail. Her eyes shone with determination.
“Why can’t I buy lunch? Like the other kids.”
“Because this is healthier for you. As a treat, I packed the chocolate pudding you like,” Jenna said in a tempting tone.
“I don’t like chocolate anymore.”
Ignoring the faint display of rebellion, Jenna kissed Ava’s forehead. There had been worse changes of heart lately from Ava, times when even Jenna had wondered at the wisdom of trying to parent Shadow’s child, even part-time—and part-time was the operative word now. Although Ava had always been a sweet girl, the preteen years were rapidly approaching.
“Don’t be a goose. Have a good day.”
“Last week,” Ava announced. “Then I’ll be a fourth grader.”
To her that must mean impending independence, but to Jenna it meant pulling away. And she hadn’t forgotten her talk with Shadow. In fact, that was all she’d thought about ever since.
The bus had stopped out front and Jenna stood in the doorway, watching the still-little girl she loved race toward it. Jenna waved at the driver. When she was satisfied that Ava was on the bus and safely in her seat, she turned back inside.
David stood there in his three-piece suit, briefcase in hand. Her husband shot a quick glance at the departing bus. Jenna wondered if he’d delayed leaving for the office to make sure he didn’t run into Ava this morning. She looked up into his serious gray-blue eyes then noticed the set of his mouth.
They’d talked well into the night again last night, and this morning he seemed as weary as she felt. Jenna had tossed and turned for hours, replaying her conversation with Shadow and considering David’s ambivalence, envisioning one emotional scene after another to come. All of them ended with Ava sitting in Shadow’s red Mustang as she backed out of the driveway with Ava’s suitcases in the trunk.
And Jenna’s heart shattered.
Setting her cup on the entry hall table, she smoothed a hand over her husband’s dark hair. He had it trimmed every two weeks at a high-end salon in Kansas City. In their suburban neighborhood Jenna used an equally pricey shop for her style, and she liked having nice things. She glanced down at her gray cashmere robe. She had no doubt he’d heard her exchange with Ava.
“What if she has to start school next fall in Barren instead of staying here?” she asked.
David eased away from her touch. “You know how I feel about that. Let’s not talk it to death.”
She followed him onto the porch. The morning air smelled sweet with the flowers that were beginning to bloom, not only in her yard but in others across their development. All around her were well-tended gardens and expensive homes like hers that were immaculate inside as well as out. No more falling-down house, no more chickens in the yard, even though having them was trendy now.
“I still can’t believe Shadow wants to take Ava.”
“Maybe three years with Ava was enough,” David said. “I know how much you like having her here, but Shadow’s right. She isn’t ours. We don’t have a legal leg to stand on—and I’m not sure I would want to if we did. I hope you won’t bring up the idea to adopt again. Shadow would never agree. And where’s the father? He has rights, too.” He turned on the top step. Jenna had never told David about Grey Wilson. That had been for Shadow to share, and she’d remained silent. “Enough of this, Jen.”
“But did she really think we wouldn’t become this close to Ava?”
“She’s a great kid, but she should be with her mother. You became too close.” He continued down the steps.
Yes, maybe she had, but other than getting out of her parents’ home years ago and making a new life for herself with David, the only thing she’d ever wanted was to be a mother. Nature had apparently decided that wasn’t to be—at least, until Ava had come to stay. Jenna didn’t want to lose her. She and David could provide far more than Shadow could, even now. Not that money made the difference. Ava was part of their family. It would break her heart to leave this house, her school, her friends...
Somehow, Jenna hoped to bring her lawyer husband around to her view.
There must be something they could do to keep Ava with them, at least for a while longer. Until she could help her niece accept the situation. Until Jenna got used to the idea of letting her go—if she ever could.
* * *
SHADOW GLANCED AT the sky. No wonder it looked so dark at the end of the day, the gathering clouds like an omen when only that morning the sun had been shining. She hadn’t seen Grey since she’d told him about Ava, or at least a small part, and she’d just stepped out of her office when she ran into him on the sidewalk.
“I was coming to see you,” he said. “I almost stopped yesterday but I wasn’t ready to talk again. Now I am.”
She held the bulky canvas envelope she carried closer. “I’m on my way to the bank. To make my weekly deposit.”
He frowned. “You should do that every day.” He cocked his head, viewing her from beneath the brim of his Stetson. “You shouldn’t leave cash in your office every night. If I were a thief, I’d wait for Thursday when the receipts would be highest from the week before your deposit on Friday. I’d clean you out. Voice of experience.” His scowl had deepened. “I got robbed.”
Shadow squeezed the envelope even tighter, as if the agency was, indeed, at risk. “Robbed?”
“Rustlers cleaned out half a dozen head the other night. Took off before I could get a look at their faces—three of ’em.”
She took another step. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve had more trouble—”
“I need to talk to you, Shadow.” He looked around to make sure they were alone on the street. “Now. About...the baby.”
She took a few more steps, her back to him, and sensed him following. “After I do my banking, I have to interview several new caregivers then drive out to the rehab