Catch A Fallen Star. Amy Vastine
better than anyone the cost of a failed marriage and how the children paid the price.
Given Violet’s tendency to make trouble, Ruby always figured she needed to be more worried about her daughter ending up in jail than becoming someone’s victim. But the thought of Violet almost getting into some strange man’s truck caused tears to prick at the corners of her eyes.
This time she raced upstairs and didn’t bother knocking. Violet was on her bed and sat up when Ruby burst in.
“Mom! Seriously, leave.”
“Who was the man you were talking to at Valu-Save?”
“What?”
“Don’t play games with me, Violet.” Ruby clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking. “Mrs. Kingston saw you and someone who isn’t from around here standing in line together. She said he bought you something and tried to get you to come into his truck. What happened?”
Violet rolled her eyes, and she flopped back on her bed, phone in hand. “Oh my gosh,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “People need to mind their own business.”
Ruby sat on the bed and blinked back her tears. “Honey, there are dangerous people in the world, even in small towns like this one.”
“I know, Mom. I don’t need you to lecture me about stranger danger. I got it. You can leave now,” she said, going back to her phone.
“Vi.” Ruby snatched the smartphone from Violet’s hands. She would not be dismissed. “Do you have any idea what I would do if something happened to you? You are all I have in this world.”
For a moment, Ruby thought she saw a flicker of remorse in her daughter’s eyes. It was quickly replaced with familiar annoyance.
“Nothing is going to happen to me. Stacy dared me to steal a lighter so she could smoke these cigarettes she snagged from her mom’s purse, but that guy from Helping Hooves who thinks he’s famous caught me and made me stand in line with him because he said the manager saw me, too. He wouldn’t even buy me the lighter. He’s so lame.”
“Boone Williams was the man in the store?”
“I don’t remember his name because he’s old. And not cool. Can I have my phone back now?”
Ruby felt relieved and enraged at the same time. Thankfully some creepy pedophile hadn’t attempted to lure Violet into his car. However, Boone had interjected himself into Violet’s life without any thought to how his actions might affect Ruby’s ability to parent her troubled teen.
“I will be holding on to this until I can think of a more appropriate consequence for attempted shoplifting,” she replied, standing up and slipping the phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “And tonight at dinner, we will be discussing all the reasons someone your age shouldn’t take up smoking.”
“Oh my gosh! Are you serious? I didn’t say I was going to smoke.”
Ruby paid her no mind as she headed for the door. “Dinner’s ready, by the way.”
“I shouldn’t have told you anything. Boone was right. I should have kept the whole thing between him and me.”
That, on the other hand, got Ruby’s attention. She spun back around. “He told you not to tell me?”
Violet rolled over and curled into a ball. “I’m never telling you anything ever again.”
The heat of her anger crept up Ruby’s neck and burned her cheeks. Violet didn’t have to tell her anything. Ruby would confront the supposed adult in this scenario. Of course, that was if she didn’t knock him out instead.
STARING AT EMMY’S number on his phone, Boone contemplated what he could say on her voice mail today that might make her finally call him back. He paced the inside of the Airstream and fought the anxiety that made his palms sweat.
He pressed the button to call. Four rings and there she was.
“Hi, this is Emmy.” She giggled, and Boone’s heart swelled, then dropped. “Leave me a message or text me and I’ll get back to you.”
Boone cleared his throat and waited for the beep. “Hey, Em. It’s Dad. I, ah, I’m trying to remember the name of that horse you used to ride when you took lessons at Tressman’s. You know, the all-black one? They’ve got a beautiful black gelding here named Renegade. Cool name, huh?” This had to work. Nothing he’d said in the past few months had earned him a response. He hoped her love of horses might convince her to reply this time. “Well, if you remember that horse’s name, give me a call back. I miss you, honey. I hope we can talk soon.”
He hung up and slid his phone into his back pocket. The knot in his stomach stayed tied tight. Boone could perform in front of thousands without an ounce of fear, but his daughter made him more anxious than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
His nerves eased and gave way to his anger. He was a grown man groveling for a minute of his child’s attention. It was pathetic. There was no way he could keep this up. What was the point of leaving message after message if she wanted nothing to do with him? This was all her mother’s fault.
Maybe the best thing to do was to give Emmy what she wanted. Maybe he should leave her alone. That would sure make his ex happy. But that was as good a reason as any not to give up. He wouldn’t decide today.
The lack of space inside the trailer was giving him a headache. Boone pushed the door open, and it almost knocked Faith over. The woman jumped back.
“Sorry about that,” he said, stepping out and taking a deep gulp of fresh air.
Faith ran a hand through her thick brown hair. “Getting out of the way is one of my many talents, thanks to years of working with horses. You only have to get kicked once to know you don’t want it to happen again.”
“What can I do for you, Miss Faith?”
“I’m here to invite you to dinner again. My fiancé hasn’t had much success getting you to accept, so I’m here to personally invite you.”
“That’s mighty kind of you, but I just got back from the grocery store with plenty of food.”
The sun sat low in the sky, hovering over the Airstream like a giant egg yolk. Faith squinted up at him. “You’ve been staying on my property for four days. I understand you’re a private man, but when someone graciously opens their doors for you and you make excuses not to come in, it feels a bit like a personal rebuff.”
Boone’s mother would have slapped the back of his head for being so rude. It had been so easy to say no to Dean, he hadn’t thought about the message he had sent to the actual hostess.
“I never intended to offend you. I’m not very good company, that’s all. I was trying to spare you the trouble.”
“It’s no trouble,” she said surely. “We’ll see you in an hour for dinner.”
He watched her walk away, not giving him any chance to decline her invitation this time. He appreciated her straightforwardness, though. Sharing one meal couldn’t be that bad, as long as Dean didn’t bring up getting in the recording studio. Boone would need to set clear ground rules, and number one was no business talk at the dinner table.
* * *
BOONE TUGGED THE collar of his button-down shirt. Dinner attire wasn’t specified, so he went with a dress shirt and jeans—the best of both worlds. Knocking on the door, he prayed this get-together wasn’t a bad idea.
“Come on in,” Dean said, pushing open the screen door for his guest. “Whatever Faith is cooking smells so good, you’ll regret not taking us up on this offer earlier.”
“Your fiancée’s definitely more persuasive than you are. You might