Second Chance Father

by Renee Andrews

  Matt has become a son to me and my husband, a brother to our other two sons. We love him, his beautiful wife, Brittany, and their boys, our grandsons, Ryan and Brooks. They are family. So when Matt called to explain that he’d had a sinus infection and that the antibodies to fight the infection had viewed my kidney as foreign...and started attacking, my heart plummeted. My prayers skyrocketed. But as of today, the kidney has not started working again, and Matt has returned to dialysis.

  One of the most painful things I’ve ever had to hear came a month ago, when Matt said, “I’m sorry. I hope you don’t regret what you did, because you gave me a better life for five years and gave us two beautiful boys.” I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. “There are no regrets. Only blessings. Am I confused about why this is happening? Absolutely. We were the ‘miracle match’ as they termed us in the hospital and on the news. But God gave you five years with a working kidney. God gave me a son, a daughter-in-law and two more precious grandbabies. And God has been here, the whole time, working through the joy and the pain.”

  Will we face storms in life, the way Jack and Elise face storms in this book? Absolutely. But God never promised a perfect life, not here, though we will have that perfect life one day. Where we don’t receive those hospital calls, don’t watch our loved ones suffer, don’t wonder what we could have done to have made things better. And until then, God is right here, all the time.

  I wanted desperately to portray how much we need God in the stormy times of life. This book, these characters, have touched me so deeply, and I truly hope they’ve touched you too. And if you’re facing storms, I pray for you to turn to God. Let Him be your anchor in the storm.

  As always, I welcome prayer requests from my readers. Write to me at: Renee Andrews, PO Box 8, Gadsden, AL 35902 or through email at renee@ reneeandrews.com and I will gladly lift your requests to our Heavenly Father in prayer.

  If you would like to keep up with me, my family, my books and my devotions online, please join my Facebook page: www.Facebook.com/AuthorReneeAndrews

  Blessings in Christ,

  Renee

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  Rocky Mountain Cowboy

  by Tina Radcliffe

  Chapter One

  It had been a good many years since Rebecca Anshaw Simpson had inhaled the earthy combination of cattle, horse and hay that was home. As the scents wove their way in through the vents of her car, it seemed like only yesterday that she was a kid, riding like a swift rush of wind through the valley of Paradise, Colorado. Life was simple then. So blessedly simple.

  Rebecca yawned and rolled down her window to fully appreciate the enticing perfume of home. As she stretched, her aching neck protested. The muscles were stiff because she’d fallen asleep inside the ancient compact Honda.

  When an almost icy spring breeze moved through the car, Rebecca pulled her down-filled vest closer.

  A horse and rider appeared in the distance. Silhouetted against the horizon and the rising sun’s orange glow, the man in the dark Stetson approached at a rapid clip, with two dogs racing alongside.

  She’d know that profile anywhere.

  Joe Gallagher.

  Tension crept along her shoulders. She’d had serious reservations about taking this job because of Joe. They’d dated all through high school, even though she was two years younger than him. Joe was her first love. Until she’d dumped him.

  Young and naive, she’d been swept off her feet at the end of her sophomore year of college, and eloped with Nick Simpson.

  What a trusting fool she’d been. For a lingering moment, Rebecca allowed herself to contemplate what life would have been like if she’d stuck with the homeboy.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered.

  None of it did. All that mattered was today. Life as she’d known it had been stolen from her two years ago. She had returned to Paradise to begin again.

  What irony that she should be returning home to the man she had scorned. Forced to face him again, after so many years. The Lord surely had a sense of humor opening the door to this assignment. OrthoBorne Technology had not only given her a job, but it had dangled a huge bonus, like a proverbial carrot on a stick. She’d taken the bait and was determined to make the most of this chance.

  When the man on the horse was close enough for her to see his midnight-black hair peeking out from under his hat and the shadow of a beard on his face, Rebecca inhaled a sharp breath. Joe Gallagher had changed. He’d become ruggedly handsome in the years since they’d parted.

  “Becca?” Joe slid off his horse and approached the gate. His deep voice reflected stunned surprise, and the underlying tone was anything but welcoming.

  Tired of craning her neck, she opened the car door and stepped out, stretching her stiff legs while discreetly pulling down the sleeves of her sweater. She still had to look up to meet his gaze. Joe was taller than she remembered, with that same dangerous loner aura.

  He rested his gloved left hand on the top of the gate, while his other hand, the prosthetic one, according to her notes, remained tucked away inside the pocket of his fleece-lined denim jacket. For a long minute he simply stared. It was as though he was looking through her, to the past.

  The lean black-and-white cattle dogs at his feet barked and raced in energetic circles, eager to be part of the conversation.

  “Sit,” Joe commanded, his voice steely.

  The animals instantly obeyed.

  “Been a long time,” he finally said, his gaze returning to hers.

  Rebecca tried to gauge what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable. Apparently he still held everything deep inside.

  “It has been, hasn’t it? A very long time,” she murmured. “I heard you joined the army after college.”

  “Yeah. When my dad died, I went ahead and took an early discharge.”

  “I’m so sorry about your father,” she said, immediately regretting her words. “I, um, I know how close you two were.”

  He gave a quick nod of acknowledgment. “What about you?” he asked. “Home for a visit? Is your husband with you?”

  At Joe’s question, everything around Rebecca slowed down and began to blur. The world came to a stunning halt as the words slipped from her mouth.

  “Nick is dead.”

  Joe jerked back slightly, eyes widening a fraction. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Unmoving, she stared at him. The surprise on his face seemed genuine enough. Could Joe Gallagher be the only person in Paradise, in Colorado for that matter, who didn’t know about the accident? The trial? Hadn’t it been splashed in every newspaper? The grandson of one of the founding f
amilies of Paradise Valley had been taken from this world far too soon.

  Apparently Joe didn’t know her life had been on hold for the last twenty-four months as she awaited the results of the jury trial.

  “You okay?” Joe asked when she didn’t answer.

  “Yes. Yes. Sorry.” Rebecca leaned against the Honda and massaged her arm. Glancing down, she realized what she was doing and stopped. “Long drive from Denver. I started out Friday afternoon. It was so late that I just slept in the car.”

  His eyes rounded. “You spent the night in your car? Why didn’t you drive to your mom’s house?”

  “No. That’s not what I meant. I didn’t spend the night in the car. Two hours. A nap.”

  Joe raised a brow.

  Rebecca shrugged. “There was a huge accident on I-25 outside the Springs, and then I ran into issues with the starter when I hit Alamosa.”

  “Why are you parked here?”

  She nodded to the sign on the gate. “I thought this was still the main entrance to the ranch. Until I saw the sign.”

  Joe grimaced as he, too, glanced at the sign.

  “Do not cross this pasture unless you can do it in nine seconds, because the bull can do it in ten. Please close the gate.”

  “That would be my mother’s handiwork.”

  “Why not put a padlock on the gate?”

  “It’s the ingress for emergency vehicles. If I put a padlock on it, then I have to remember where the key is.” He paused and looked at her, eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. Why are you at Gallagher Ranch?”

  “Since I have to drive out here to see you anyhow, I thought I’d do a dry run. By the time I finally arrived, I was a little more tired than I realized.” She lifted a hand. “Thus the nap.”

  “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” When he suddenly straightened and raised a hand, the black horse behind him whinnied and stepped back several paces, causing the dogs to bark.

  Joe laid a comforting hand on the animal and silenced the dogs again. “Let’s start over here. Did you say you’re here to see me?”

  Rebecca glanced at her watch. “Yes. Our meeting is scheduled for Monday morning.”

  “Things have been pretty hectic around here, but I don’t forget appointments. And I’m even less likely to have forgotten an appointment with...”

  Rebecca swallowed when his words trailed off. What had he been about to say? With someone who had treated him so callously? The girl who dumped him.

  Joe pulled the glove off his right hand and then tugged the matching one off his left hand using his teeth, before taking out his phone. The skin tone silicone cover of the myoelectric prosthesis made his right hand appear nearly identical to his left. She couldn’t help assess that he really didn’t use the prosthesis, apparently utilizing the device simply as a placeholder.

  After fiddling with the phone for a moment, he paused and slowly met her gaze. Complete shock was reflected in his eyes. “Are you...”

  “I’m the therapist who’s been assigned to complete the certification for your prosthesis.”

  “You’re a therapist?”

  She nodded.

  “I thought they were sending someone from Denver. They told me it was someone who would help with those media people who are coming, as well.”

  His voice was edged with irritation, and Rebecca held her breath and stepped back from him.

  “They are. They did. I am.”

  Joe Gallagher’s face looked like he’d just been struck with a cattle prod.

  She crossed her arms and stated the obvious. “This is going to be a problem.”

  He took off his Stetson and then slapped it back on so that it rested at the back of his head, revealing more of his jet-black hair. She could clearly see that his moss-green eyes were troubled.

  “Joe?”

  “I guess it better not be, because the way I see things, I don’t have much choice. Do I?”

  “You tell me.” She looked him straight in the eye. “Is our history going to get in the way?”

  “History? Is that the politically correct term these days?” He offered a bitter chuckle.

  She studied him once again. His face was a mask, his gaze shuttered.

  “No, Becca,” he finally continued. “You don’t have to worry. Even this Colorado cowboy realizes that was a long time ago. We were kids. This is business. More important, the future of Gallagher Ranch depends on me completing the requirements of my contract with OrthoBorne. I cut a deal to pay off this fourteen-karat-gold myoelectric arm.” His eyes pinned her. “And I always keep my word.”

  Joe turned his head to glance out at the land, and she realized she’d been dismissed. The knowledge burned.

  “So Monday, then?” she asked quietly.

  “That’s fine. I’m past the main house. A bit farther up the road. Two-story log cabin.”

  She nodded.

  He turned to her. “When do your friends arrive?”

  “They aren’t my friends.” Rebecca bristled. “I don’t even know who was contracted for this job, except that there’s a videographer and a copywriter.”

  “When will they finish?”

  “That is wholly dependent upon you and the weather.”

  He offered a slow shake of his head that said her answer wasn’t nearly satisfactory enough. “What about certification? How long do you think that will take?”

  “Once again, everything depends on you. I don’t anticipate more than four weeks reviewing your ADLs.”

  He straightened, jaw tense, and his face was almost thunderous. “Four weeks! Four weeks? I have a ranch to run.”

  “Joe, that’s exactly why it will take that long. In fact, knowing how a ranch runs, I asked for extra time so our sessions don’t interfere with what you have to do at the ranch or with the media crew.”

  “And what’s an ADL?”

  “Activities of daily living.”

  He sucked in a breath but said nothing.

  “Look, that doesn’t mean we can’t get everything done earlier than scheduled. I’ll accompany you on your routine chores, schedule one-on-one sessions related to your ranch work. Then I’ll assist you to incorporate the prosthesis into your daily life that isn’t ranch related.”

  “Can you still ride?”

  “What?” She shook her head, certain she’d heard the terse question incorrectly.

  “Ride. Do you ride?”

  Rebecca frowned. “I was born in a saddle, like you were. Cowgirls don’t forget how to ride.”

  The tension in Joe’s shoulders eased a bit. “That’ll help, because, no offense, Becca, but I plan to graduate way ahead of schedule.”

  “While it’s my job to treat you the same as all my clients, there is no doubt in my mind that you’ll beat all records getting this done. Then I’ll be gone, and you can go back to your life.”

  Rebecca looked up at him, standing tall and proud, profiled against the land. For a brief moment she imagined she saw a glimpse of something familiar from years ago and the closeness they once shared.

  That was crazy because yesterday was long gone. Once again Rebecca reminded herself that it was high time to start looking forward instead of behind.

  * * *

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Simpson, but it’s no longer available.”

  “How can that be? I called before I left Denver to make sure everything was set.”

  Joe turned at the sound of Becca’s voice.

  He’d sidestepped the woman for twelve years, and now he managed to run into her twice in the space of a few hours?

  She stood on the sidewalk of downtown Paradise, and was obviously doing her best to get her point across to a wiry guy as they stood outside the real-estate office.

  How little the years had chang
ed her. He’d been stunned to see her at the fence this morning. The years had tumbled back, and he realized with painful clarity that the tall, lean beauty who’d stolen his heart at sixteen apparently could still tie him in knots.

  The difference was that this time he had a strong rope anchored to his heart, holding down those once generous emotions of his. Only a fool gets burned twice.

  He’d made more than his share of mistakes in his life, and he liked to believe he’d learned from every single one of them. Joe glanced down at his prosthesis, remembering the farm accident that had taken his limb. He pushed the memory away and focused on the here and now.

  Joe glanced back down the street. From a distance, he could feel the tension in the air. He tucked himself back into the doorway of a shop, grateful he stood well behind Becca’s line of sight.

  She pushed strands of dark hair away from her face as she dug in her purse to pull out neatly folded papers. “You took my deposit and my credit-card information. Why, you even mailed me a receipt. I have the paperwork right here.”

  Confusion laced Becca’s voice. To her credit, she maintained her composure, though her hands were clenched tightly around her purse.

  The Realtor adjusted his tie, swallowed and shrugged, obviously avoiding eye contact with her. “I’ve reversed the charges, ma’am. No worries.”

  “No worries?” She blinked and began to gesture with her hands. “No worries?”

  Joe found himself unable to resist listening to the conversation, and at the same time fighting the urge to come to her defense. Why should he? Becca had made it clear a long time ago that she didn’t want him in her life. No, he reminded himself, her return to Paradise and whatever was going on here was none of his business.

  “Are you kidding me?” Becca continued, her voice louder and tight with frustration. “Couldn’t you go inside and check your files again?”