Everyone needs a little help finding love...
He’s loved and lost before...
But his daughter wants him to try again.
While widower Tug Moyer isn’t looking for a new wife, his eight-year-old daughter is convinced he needs one—and that her social media plea will bring his perfect match. The response is high, but nobody seems quite right for the sheriff...except her teacher, Christa Alero, who insists she isn’t interested. Now their little matchmaker must convince them both to give love a chance.
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
“I’m pretty much a lost cause in the romance department.”
Christa was about to do a mental eye roll because that was about the cheesiest line she’d ever heard, and she’d heard her share over the last few years...
But then Tug went on.
“We lost her mom three years ago.”
A widower. Raising kids alone. The revelation sparked her sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”
He acknowledged her words with a look of appreciation. “Thank you. I won’t pretend it’s been easy,” he added frankly as they neared her door, “but we’re doing all right on our own. Just like we are. And while I hate to disappoint my resident matchmaker, that’s how it’s going to stay. I’ve got enough on my plate. As you can plainly see.”
They’d reached her classroom.
She paused.
So did he.
And when she looked up and met his gaze, she read the sorrow and sincerity there, and that expression—that singular look—was enough to make her wish he’d give romance a second chance.
USA TODAY Bestselling Author RuthLogan Herne
Multipublished bestselling author Ruth Logan Herne loves God, her country, her family, dogs, chocolate and coffee! Married to a very patient man, she lives in an old farmhouse in Upstate New York and thinks possums should leave the cat food alone and snakes should always live outside. There are no exceptions to either rule! Visit Ruth at ruthloganherne.com.
Books by Ruth Logan Herne
Love Inspired
Golden Grove
A Hopeful Harvest
Learning to Trust
Shepherd’s Crossing
Her Cowboy Reunion
A Cowboy in Shepherd’s Crossing
Healing the Cowboy’s Heart
Grace Haven
An Unexpected Groom
Her Unexpected Family
Their Surprise Daddy
The Lawman’s Yuletide Baby
Her Secret Daughter
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
LEARNING TO TRUST
Ruth Logan Herne
And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up.
—Deuteronomy 6:6–7
This one is for Lisa, a wonderful and masterful elementary school teacher who makes things come alive for kids with special needs and everyone she comes in contact with... She is a great mom, great daughter, great sister, great wife and a dear friend. The kind I can make fun of and laugh with and, yes, occasionally cry with. To Lisa...with love. You brat.
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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Excerpt from Hill Country Redemption by Shannon Taylor Vannatter
Chapter One
The elementary-school principal wanted a meeting ASAP regarding Tug Moyer’s overachieving daughter. Tug’s boss had requested a similar face-to-face conference because he’d broken protocol to save two little boys from a hostage situation an hour before and the Central Washington deputy sheriff hadn’t eaten since last night.
Must be Monday.
The good news was the preschool boys were being checked out at the local hospital, where they were met by a woman from child services. They were alive. They’d suffered no physical harm and maybe they were young enough to escape with no emotional trauma.
He explained to the soon-to-retire sheriff that he had to stop at the school, pulled into the parking lot of Golden Grove Elementary two minutes later and walked in the front door.
“Tug Moyer.” Ivy Harrington beamed at him from her chair behind the reception desk inside the door. The seventy-two-year-old woman wasn’t meant to guard anything, but she could push the alarm button that issued a silent 911 call and/or the door-opening button, and she’d only confused the two a few times.
Minor details for a woman who’d taught Golden Grove kids for over forty years.
“Miss Ivy, how are you?” He motioned to the check-in roster. “I’m on my way to Evangeline’s class. Can you write me in?”
“That’s not protocol,” she scolded, but grinned. “But for you, I’ll do it.”
“I appreciate it.” He flashed her a smile, then turned.
Three people stood forty feet ahead of him. Three very unhappy people, including Evangeline.
He wiped the grin off his face, but not before they saw it. The principal and the younger woman frowned in tandem. Then the principal tapped her watch. “You’ve kept all of us waiting, Terrence.”
Uh-oh. His given name. He’d been named Terrence Michael nearly four decades back, but he’d been called Tug for as long as he could recall. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Menendez. I was in a bit of a situation when the original text came in. Hazard of the job.” He turned toward the other woman and tried not to notice how pretty she was, but he’d have to be dead or blind and he was neither.
Her dark hair was pulled back from an oval face. Sculpted brows arched over smoky eyes, eyes that were neither gray nor brown, but a blend of both. He reached out a hand in greeting and tried not to notice she wasn’t wearing anyone’s ring because he never noticed things like that.
He did now. “Ms. Alero, I presume? We haven’t had the pleasure of meeting yet. I’m Deputy Moyer. Evangeline’s father.”
“I know who you are.” The teacher gave him one of those classic elementary-schoolteacher looks. Hard. Firm. Unyielding. He’d gotten his share of those back in the day but hadn’t been privy to one in a long time. The attractive teacher brought that winning streak to an end. “At this point,” she continued, “I’m pretty sure half the world knows who you are.”
The exaggeration made him frown. As a deputy, he’d been doing online self-help videos for kids for several years. The Fire Within was a totally volunteer Christian cop kind of thing, and every now and again one of his posts went viral. In the internet age, that was a good thing.
“The online world has a new hero, it seems.” She folded her arms lightly. “Or in this case, heroine.”
He looked from woman to woman. “I’m confused. Did my video from last night offend someone? Because I’m not sure how urging kids to seek help in times of stress can be a bad thing.”
The principal hummed, then aimed a look down at Evangeline.
The teacher followed.
And his absolutely beautiful, precocious daughter squirmed. He squatted down and got face-to-face with the guilty-looking girl. “Vangie, what did you do?”
“Exactly what you showed me to do.”
The teacher made a sound of disapproval.
Tug ignored it.
He kept his focus on Evangeline. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Making videos. You know. We do that all the time.”
They did. Both kids saw him making videos for his social-media page. With Nathan, six, and Vangie, nearly nine, he’d recently started showing them how to shoot a video of themselves that they could send to various family members. “You made a video?”
“Dad.” She clasped his hands in hers. Her voice held appeal, and when Vangie embraced her I-know-best persona, Tug knew he was in for a serious reckoning. Despite her age, Evangeline Moyer was pretty sure she should be ruler of the universe and was always surprised when the world disagreed.
“What on earth did you do, child?”
“You really don’t know?” The teacher’s voice smacked of doubt. “When something goes viral on social media, your phone must be sending you alerts. Haven’t your friends and family been texting you?”
His phone.
He’d silenced it because he’d been knee-deep in a life-and-death situation on Old Orchard Road.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he answered her. “Ma’am, I do a daily encouragement video blog for teens, and every now and again one of my posts hits it big.” He lifted his shoulders in a frank shrug. “While that’s complimentary, the most important thing is reaching the one kid that really needs those words that day. It’s not about how many shares or Tweets or—”
He stopped as his gaze dropped to his phone.
He stared.
Two million views already, and the popular post had gone live seven hours ago.
Seven hours...
He’d posted his video to go live at midnight. That was fourteen hours ago. That meant he was on his way to work when this one hit the internet. Vangie and Nathan were catching the school bus at his mother’s house at that time. He took a breath. A really deep one. And then he spoke. “You accessed Grandma’s laptop?”
Vangie made a little face of acknowledgment. “Her phone, actually.”
His heart began to race because he knew that all-too-innocent look she was giving him. It was the same wide-eyed expression he’d used to wrangle himself out of a great many things over the years. “Evangeline Mary Moyer, what on earth have you done?”
“Daddy.” She spoke with an ever-patient, exasperating, yet still adorable, air. “I’m going to find you a wife.”
* * *
Tug Moyer looked shocked.
No, make that dumbfounded, which annoyed Christa Alero even more. First he trained a child on how to make videos, then had the nerve to be surprised when she did it.
What a dolt. No matter how amazingly good-looking the guy was, with his shock of brown hair, ruddy-brown eyes and a heart-stopping, to-die-for grin, he was foolish to take such liberties with children. He was a cop. More than anyone, he should know how easy it would be for the wrong kind of person to see Evangeline’s plea, be taken with the child and then do something stupid or dangerous. Wasn’t the world already perilous enough for children?
She should know. She’d grown up in the thick of it.
She choked the negativity down. She’d dealt with her past years before. She might not be able to change what had happened, but she could smooth the road she’d chosen. She’d become a teacher to influence the future and that meant everything.
“My office. Now.” The principal didn’t mince words. She stepped back and waved one hand. “After you.”
Deputy Moyer and his really cute daughter went on ahead.
Christa fell in step with the principal. Halfway down the hall, she glanced to her left.
A tiny smile softened the principal’s features, as if she thought either the incident or the pair in front of them were amusing. Or worse, endearing. Clearly she liked the guy.
I’m going to find you a wife.
Evangeline’s words and her winning smile weren’t lost on Christa. Appealing, yes. But dangerous when paired with the social-media frenzy.
Christa took a seat on the far left, facing the principal. The deputy took the seat in the middle. Evangeline sat to his right.
Was he protecting the girl by opting for the middle seat? Or was he trying to intimidate Christa?
Or he could just be sitting... Like a normal person.
The mental scolding was right. Being raised in a gang-infested California city where too many cops looked the other way tended to ignite her suspicions. She took a breath and quietly folded her hands in her lap. The principal would handle this. That took the onus off Christa and helped ensure an ongoing good relationship with the child.
Mrs. Menendez took her seat. “Tug, you know this is serious.”
Tug?
Christa bit back words of recrimination because calling the guy by a nickname leveled the playing field too quickly. He should have to suffer more, shouldn’t he?
“It is gravely serious,” he replied. He aimed a ridiculously handsome look at his daughter and she wriggled under the scrutiny. “Vangie, you know better than this. It’s dangerous for kids to be on the internet. You took a big chance that bad people might see you or your brother. Most people are going to think your post is cute. That’s why it’s been shared...” He swept a look at his phone. His eyes went wide and it was impossible to miss the gorgeous tones of cinnamon brown. “Nearly three million times now.”
“We have local TV stations and national news networks calling for interviews,” the principal told him. “I’m sure you’ll find similar circumstances at home.”
“National news?” His voice cracked. Just a little. She hadn’t thought his gorgeous eyes could go wider. Wrong.
Mrs. Menendez pressed her lips together and nodded.
“I thought just some nice people around here would see it,” Vangie piped up. “You never get a chance to go out with ladies, Dad. You’re always helping other people or saving lives, and how are you ever going to find a wife if you never look? Especially if you get to be the new sheriff. So I thought this would help.”
Christa almost choked.
The child was delightfully smart and utterly sincere.
“Vangie, I know you meant well, but this isn’t how it’s done, honey.”
Evangeline almost bounced in her seat as she argued her point. “It is, Dad! Maybe that’s the problem because it’s exactly how they do it now. There are so many people on social media and they love stories like this. I heard Grandma and Nurse Mortie talking about it. She said people absolutely eat this stuff up.”
The principal choked back a laugh and even Christa had to fight a smile because the girl’s sincerity was spot-on.
“Eavesdropping on grown-up conversations, then taking that information and deliberately disobeying our rules isn’t something I take lightly, Evangeline.” He was firm. Strong. Direct. And the uniform added an extra measure of power to drive his points home.
The girl gulped.
The deputy turned and made eye contact with the adults. “Ms. Alero and Mrs. Menendez, I apologize for today’s disruption. With the soaring numbers of this post, I can’t promise it won’t stay a nuisance for a while. If you’d like me to keep Evangeline home, I can do that. She can stay with my mother while I work.”
“And miss school?” Evangeline’s eyes went wide. She turned to the principal quickly. “We can’t do that. You know how much I love school, Mrs. M.!”
Another nickname, which meant the rules of school decorum might not be very rigid in Golden Grove.
“And we all appreciate your enthusiasm and scholarl
y efforts, Vangie, but the school isn’t equipped to handle prying people or—”
The school secretary buzzed in right then. “Mrs. Menendez, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we have a developing situation. Reporters are clogging the bus loop. The buses can’t pull in to pick up the students. There are sheriff’s deputies arriving to help straighten things out, but I thought you should be aware.”
Reporters. Law-enforcement response en masse. All for a little girl who should have been watched more carefully.
The injustice of it rose up to choke Christa.
She knew the inequalities of police response. She’d seen it firsthand. Little help came her way back in Sinclair, California, but up here in small-town Washington State, a cute kid makes a heart-wrenching video and cops come out of the woodwork to keep her safe and sound.
The disparity triggered too many old hurts. Where was all this help when a teenage girl found herself in desperate situations thirteen years ago?
Fortunately, Evangeline was a pleasure to have in class, and Christa would only have to see the clueless father a few times over the course of the year. She could handle that. She stood. “I’ve got to get back to my class for dismissal. If the buses can safely access the children, that is.”
The deputy rose out of his chair, too.
He didn’t loom, although he could have because he was a good six inches taller than she was. He turned her way. “Ms. Alero, I’m sorry our first meeting was like this. Evangeline is normally—” he slanted a gaze at his daughter “—well behaved. And a hard worker. You can be sure I’ll follow through with this at home.”
She appreciated the sincere promise. She nodded quickly. “Thank you, Deputy Moyer.”
She started to turn but had to stop when a shorter, older man in uniform strode into the room. He stood inside, crossed his arms and held the taller cop’s gaze. “This is a debacle and just a few months before my retirement, Tug. I was hoping for a quiet fall, but I guess not.”
The deputy’s boss?
She spotted the name tag that read Sheriff Wainwright and she almost felt sorry for Evangeline’s father.
Learning to Trust Page 1