A Second-Chance Family
When Buck Armstrong rescues Gina Patterson and her baby from a dark country road outside town, he intends to keep his distance. Gina and little Bobby remind the handsome veteran too much of all he’s lost. The vulnerable single mom seems equally wary of getting involved. But things change once Gina and her son settle into his sister’s boardinghouse. Being with Gina and Bobby makes Buck question his plans to leave town for a fresh start. Suddenly he has dreams of forging a new family, even though it will mean risking his heart. But can he escape his past for a chance at a happy future?
“I like it here, Buck,” Gina said.
“I think God may have sent me and Bobby here for a reason. I’m thinking maybe I’d like to stay.”
His ambivalence must have shown on his face, because she cocked her head to one side and spoke. “That bothers you, doesn’t it? How come? Is it about my resemblance to your late wife?”
“Somewhat.” Actually, he was starting to wonder how he’d ever mistaken her for Ivana. She had a plucky strength and determination, a set to her chin and a way of holding herself that were all completely her own. Still, he had questions.
“Look,” she said, “I’m sorry if I bring up memories for you. Maybe I’ll get on my feet quickly and be able to get out of here. But meanwhile…”
“Meanwhile, what?” He was holding her baby in the rainy twilight, looking at her and finding her beautiful, and feeling like he might be stepping into the biggest mess of his life.
Lee Tobin McClain read Gone with the Wind in the third grade and has been a hopeless romantic ever since. When she’s not writing angst-filled love stories with happy endings, she’s getting inspiration from her church singles group, her gymnastics-obsessed teenage daughter, and her rescue dog and cat. In her day job, Lee gets to encourage aspiring romance writers in Seton Hill University’s low-residency MFA program. Visit her at leetobinmcclain.com.
Books by Lee Tobin McClain
Love Inspired
Rescue River
Engaged to the Single Mom
His Secret Child
Small-Town Nanny
The Soldier and the Single Mom
Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch
The Nanny’s Texas Christmas
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THE SOLDIER AND
THE SINGLE MOM
Lee Tobin McClain
Therefore if any man be in Christ,
he is a new creature: old things are
passed away; behold, all things are become new.
—2 Corinthians 5:17
To Porter, the real-world model for Spike. Rescue pets rule!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Dear Reader
Excerpt from The Deputy’s Perfect Match by Lisa Carter
Chapter One
It was 2:00 a.m. on a mild March night when Buck Armstrong saw his dead wife walking toward the town of Rescue River, Ohio, carrying their baby on one hip.
He swerved, hit the brakes and skidded onto the gravel berm. On the seat beside him, Crater—his chosen companion for the night—let out a yip.
Buck passed his hand over his eyes. It wasn’t real—couldn’t be. He’d made similar mistakes before, when he was tired, when the war memories came back too strong. Tonight, driving home from assisting in an emergency surgery out at the dog rescue, he wanted nothing more than to keep driving past the turnoff to the liquor store, lock himself in his room and shut it all off until morning.
He looked again, squinting through the moonlit fog.
They were still there. But they were running away from him, or rather, his wife was. Baby Mia was gone.
Where was the baby? He scrambled out of the truck, leaving the door ajar. “Stay!” he ordered the dog automatically as he took off toward his wife. “Ivana! Wait!”
She ran faster, but Buck had gotten back into military shape since he’d quit drinking, and he caught up easily. Was relieved to see that the baby was now in front of her, in some sort of sling.
His hand brushed against her soft hair.
She screamed, spun away from him, and he saw her face.
It wasn’t his wife, but someone else. A complete stranger.
He stopped, his heart pounding triple time. Sweat formed on his forehead as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m sorry. I thought you were—”
“Leave us alone,” she ordered, stepping away, one arm cradled protectively at the back of the baby’s head, the other going to her oversize bag. “I have a gun.”
“Whoa.” He took a couple of steps back, hands lifting to shoulder height, palms out. A giant stone of disappointment pressed down on him. “I don’t mean you any harm. I thought you were... Never mind.”
A breeze rattled the leaves of a tall oak tree beside the road. He caught the rich scent of newly turned earth, plowed dirt, fields ready for planting. Up ahead, a spotlight illuminated the town’s well-known sign, kept up and repainted yearly since Civil War days: Rescue River, Ohio. All Are Welcome, All Are Safe.
Ivana had been so proud of their hometown’s history as a station on the Underground Railroad, its reputation for embracing outsiders of all types, races and creeds.
The good people of Rescue River had even put up with the damaged man he’d been when he’d returned from war, until he’d repeatedly broken their trust.
“Go back to your truck,” the woman ordered, hand still in her bag. Now that he could see her better, he realized she was sturdier than Ivana had been, with square shoulders and a determined set to her chin. Same long tawny hair, but fuller lips and big gray-blue eyes that were now glaring at him. “Do it. Back in the truck, now.”
He should do what she said, should turn around right now and get on home before the memories that were chasing him caught up.
Should, but when had he ever done what he should? “What are you doing out here in the middle of the night, ma’am? Can I give you a ride somewhere?”
She laughed without humor, shaking her head. “No way, buddy. Just drive away. We’ll all be better off.”
He had to admire her courage if not her common sense. There was no good reason for a woman with a baby to be wandering the countryside, but she was acting as if she owned the whole state.
“Sure you don’t want me to call someone?” Truth was, he felt relieved. He could go home and crash and try to forget that, just for a minute, he’d gotten the crazy hope that Ivana and the baby were still alive, that he’d get a second chance to love them the way they deserved.
“We’re fine.” She ran a hand through her hair and patted the baby who, somehow, still slept against her chest. He caught sight of wispy hair, heard that sweet, nestling-in sigh of a contented little one.
Pain stabbed his heart.
She did seem fine, perfectly able to defend herself, he argued again
st the faint whisper of chivalry that said he shouldn’t let a woman and child stay out here in the middle of the night. After all, he wasn’t much of a protector. He’d lost as many people as he’d saved in Afghanistan. And as for Ivana and Mia...
The sound of a mournful howl silenced his thoughts. Crater. “It’s okay, buddy,” he called, and the scarred rottweiler bounded out of the truck’s cab. As Crater jumped up on him, Buck rubbed the dog’s sides and let him lick his face and, for the first time since seeing the woman, he felt his heart rate settle.
“Let’s go home,” he said to the dog. But Crater had different ideas, and he lunged playfully toward the woman and baby. Buck snapped his fingers and the dog sank into a sitting position, looking back toward him. The deep scar on the dog’s back, for which they’d named him out at the rescue, shone pale in the moonlight.
“That’s a well-trained dog.” The woman cocked her head to one side.
“He’s a sweetheart. Come on, boy.”
The dog trotted to his side, and as they started back to his truck, Buck felt his heart rate calm a little more. Yeah, his shrink was right: he was a prime candidate for a service dog. Except he couldn’t make the commitment. As soon as he’d paid off his debts and made amends where he could, he was out of here, and who knew whether he’d end up in a dog-friendly place?
“Hey, hold on a minute.” The woman’s voice was the slightest bit husky.
He turned but didn’t walk back toward her. Didn’t look at her. It hurt too much. She was still a reminder of Ivana and all he’d lost. “What?”
“Maybe you could give us a hand. Or a ride.”
Buck drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay, sure,” he said, trying not to show his reluctance to be in her company a moment longer. After all, he’d made the offer, so courtesy dictated he should follow through. “Where are you headed?”
“That’s a good question,” she said, lifting the baby a little to take the weight off her chest.
He remembered Ivana doing that very same thing with Mia. He swallowed.
“What kind of a town is Rescue River?”
“It’s a real nice town.” It was, too. He’d consider staying on there himself if he hadn’t burned so many bridges.
“Think I could find a cheap room? Like, really cheap?”
He cocked his head to one side. “The only motel had no vacancy, last I saw. My sister’s renovating what’s going to be a guesthouse, but it’s not open for another few months...”
“Does she have a room that’s done, or mostly done? We don’t need much.”
Buck wanted to lie, would have lied, except he seemed to hear Ivana’s voice in his head. Quoting Scripture, trying to coax him along the path to believing. Something about helping widows and orphans in their distress.
This woman might or might not be a widow, but to be out walking the rural Ohio roads in the wee hours surely indicated some kind of distress.
“She’s got a couple of rooms close to done,” he admitted.
“Do you think she’d let me rent one?”
He frowned. “I don’t know. Lacey’s not the most trusting person in the world. A late-night guest she isn’t expecting won’t sit well with her.”
The comment hung between them for an awkward moment. It was the simple truth, though. Or maybe not so simple. The fact that the pretty stranger had a baby would disturb Lacey. A lot.
The woman gave him a skeptical look, then straightened and turned away. “Okay. Thanks.”
Squeezing his eyes shut for just a second, he turned and tried to head back toward his truck. She wasn’t his responsibility. He had enough on his plate just to keep himself together.
Nope. Like a fool, he turned around. “Hey, wait. Come on. We’ll try to talk Lacey into letting you stay. At least for the night.”
“That would be wonderful,” she said, a relieved smile breaking out on her face.
Wonderful for her, maybe. Not for him. The last thing he needed was an Ivana look-alike, with a baby no less, staying one thin wall away from him.
“My name’s Gina, by the way.” She shifted the diaper bag and held out a hand.
“Buck Armstrong.” He reached out, wrapped his oversize hand around her soft, delicate fingers and wished he’d driven home another way.
* * *
Gina Patterson climbed into the backseat of the handsome stranger’s extended-cab pickup, her heart thudding. Please, Lord, keep us safe. Watch over us.
Don’t let him be a serial killer.
But a dog wouldn’t be that friendly with a serial killer, and a serial killer wouldn’t act that loving with a dog. Would they?
“Air bags,” she explained when he looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Can’t sit in front.” Technically, she shouldn’t even bring Bobby into the truck, not without a car seat, only she couldn’t figure out what else to do. She couldn’t give Buck the keys to get her car seat from her out-of-gas SUV, and she certainly couldn’t leave Bobby with him while she walked the three miles back to her vehicle.
They were safer in the backseat, she figured, safe from him as well as from any kind of car accident. If he tried to kidnap them, she could at least hit him in the back of the head with her shoe.
She was ready to drop with fatigue after three long days of driving, and it was getting colder by the minute. Buck’s arrival had to be the blessing she’d prayed for. Although he seemed pretty gruff for a rescuer.
“Right, I knew that. It’s less than a mile,” he said, and his dog panted back over the seat at her, smiling in the way happy dogs did. It made her miss her poodles, but she knew her best friend back home would take care of them.
She scratched the dog’s ears for a minute and then let her head sag back against the seat, thanking God again for keeping her and Bobby safe during their journey.
Well, mostly safe. She’d been foolish to leave her bag on the sink while she’d changed Bobby’s diaper. Who’d have thought there’d be a purse thief in a rest area in rural Indiana? Fortunately, she’d filled her tank just before the theft—with cash—so she’d kept going as far as she could, leaving the interstate so there’d be less of a trail.
The debit card she’d kept in her jacket pocket might help in the future, once things back home cooled down, but she didn’t dare use it now.
After the theft, she’d gotten scared and timed things all wrong. She’d thought she could make it to a hotel she’d seen advertised in a larger town up ahead, but the SUV was a gas hog and had sputtered to a stop a few miles back.
At which point she’d realized she didn’t have enough cash for a hotel, anyway.
“All set?” Buck looked back at her and Bobby, brows raised over eyes the color of the ocean on a cloudy day.
Man, those were some haunted eyes. “We’re set. Thank you for helping us.”
She studied the back of him as he put the truck into gear and drove into the town. Broad shoulders, longish hair and stubble that made him look like a bad boy.
What had he been doing out at 2:00 a.m.? The question only now occurred to her, now that she and Bobby were safe, or seemed to be. “Excuse me,” she said, leaning forward, “but you haven’t been drinking or...partying, have you?”
His shoulders stiffened. “No. Why?”
Whew. She hadn’t smelled alcohol on him, but alcohol wasn’t the only thing that could mess you up. Her husband had been an old hand at covering his addiction to cocaine, right up until he’d lost control on a California mountain and skied headlong into a tree. The drugs had shown up in the autopsy blood work, but when he’d left the ski chalet an hour earlier, she hadn’t even known he was impaired. Yet another mistake her in-laws had laid at her feet.
Her throat tightened and she crammed the memories back down. “Just wondering.”
So maybe she�
��d done the right thing after all. When Bobby had started to cry, she’d decided it was better to risk walking than to stay with her vehicle. She’d scraped together change from the floor and found her emergency twenty in the bin between the driver’s and passenger’s seats. So at least she could get Bobby some food. At ten months, he needed way more than mother’s milk.
Hopefully, she could find a church that would take her in, because calling in her lost wallet might put the police on her trail. She chewed on her lower lip.
How had she ever gotten into this situation? She tried to tell herself it wasn’t her fault. While she’d committed to stay with her husband, she hadn’t married her in-laws. Once he was gone, so was her obligation to them. When Bobby was old enough to know the whole story, he could choose to reconnect in a safe way if he wanted to.
“Guesthouse is right up there.” Buck waved a hand, causing Gina to look around and realize that Rescue River was a cute little town, the kind with sidewalks and shops and glowing streetlamps, a moonlit church on one corner and a library on the other. The kind of safe haven where she might be able to breathe for a little while and figure out her options.
Except that, without ID and with just a twenty and change, her options seemed very limited. Worry cramped her belly.
The stranger pulled up in front of a rambling brick home. The outdoor light was on, revealing a porch swing and a front-door wreath made of flowers and pretty branches.
“I’ll have to wake up my sister. You can wait here in the truck or out front.” He gestured toward the house.
Well, okay, then. No excess of manners.
Except that, actually, she was the stranger and he was doing her a service. “I’ll wait on the porch. Thanks.”
He seemed able to read her mind as he came around to open the truck door for her. “Sorry to leave you outside, but my sister is sort of touchy,” he said as they walked up the narrow brick walkway. “I can’t bring a stranger in to set up shop without asking permission. It’s her place.” He paused. “It’s a very safe town, but I’ll leave Crater out here if that will make you more comfortable.”
The Soldier and the Single Mom Page 1