Betting on Hope (27 page)

“Has this been comfortable enough? Other than having you scared and spooked out?”

She chuckled at that. “It’s been perfect. And I’ve done pretty good after that first night. Once I’m locked in, I’m fine. But coming back after dark is when I get my wimpy girl on.”

His lips parted into a heart-tugging smile. Goodness, that smile caused dancing to break out in the pit of her stomach. This might have been a bad idea.
Might have been? Ha
. Of course it was.

She crossed to the back door and opened it. Tru stepped beside her immediately and the scent of his aftershave, spicy but subtle, taunted her as it had been doing all evening. He led the way out onto the deck instead of waiting for her to go first.

She realized belatedly that the only chair was a love seat rocker sitting in the corner. There was plenty of room on the rustic wooden rocking bench, but still . . . the image of them snuggling on the swing burned into her mind and she suddenly wanted to bang her head against her palm. What had she been thinking?

She sat down, making sure to sit as far to one side as she could get as she studied the darkness, her nerves a jumbled mess.

Tru sat down beside her as if it was no big deal.

“I love this spot.” He studied the darkness. “The bubbling brook makes a very peaceful refuge. You’re missing that when all you can concentrate on is the sound of the coyotes.”

She glanced at him, unable to stop herself. He smiled.

“Let the other sounds seep in around you. There’s peace there. Feel it?”

She was only aware of the man beside her.

For a few seconds they stared at each other and she felt that unbelievable tug on her heart. Maggie had always, deep down, felt so alone in the world.

“Maggie, why don’t you ever talk about your family?”

Her breath caught at his question and Maggie shot a startled gaze at him. “I. I, um,” she stumbled over her words. “Because, there’s nothing good to talk about.”

It sounded so stark when voiced.

“I’ve never had what you and your grandfather and your brothers have.” She sighed. “I’ve wished for it.”

“It’s a nice thing to wish for.” His words were low, his gaze searching, his question tense. “What was your family like?”

Maggie’s nerves balled tightly. “Different.” She couldn’t tell him about her past. What would he think? She had a mother who was . . . she couldn’t tell him about her mother. And she had a father who was in prison. Her name wasn’t even what she said it was.

She looked up at the sky. “It is beautiful out here,” she said, then stood. “I’ll get that coffee. How do you like yours?”

He stood. “I’ll fix it.”

“Is there some secret to the way you fix it?” She hurried inside, needing something to do.

“No. So why do you never talk about your family?” he cornered her at the coffee pot.

She stiffened. “There’s really nothing to share.” She poured coffee into the two mugs she’d set on the counter earlier. Her hand trembled as she passed one to him. “The cream and sugar are there. I’m sorry I don’t have a lot of different flavors.”

He took the coffee and set it on the counter. “So, what about your family?”

She faced the counter as she stirred a teaspoon of sugar into her coffee. He stepped close and reached around her to cover her hand with his. “I want to know about you, Maggie.” His words were a soft whisper against her ear.

It was suddenly hard to breathe. He was so close, and his hand so gentle as his thumb caressed hers. Slowly pulling her fingers away from the cup, he drew her around to face him. “There is something so sad in your eyes. And today, when you teared up, what were you thinking about?”

Maggie fought for composure. She really wished Amanda’s thing for red would work, because she was wearing a red shirt and she needed fortification. Right then and there, she wanted to wrap her arms around Tru and never let him go. He looked genuinely concerned for her.

“Let’s just say not everyone could have a great family like yours.”

“Oh, believe me, mine wasn’t that great. Everyone has family problems. I had a doozy if you’re worried about some kind of family skeleton.”

She couldn’t believe he came that close. What would he think of her? She’d never been a chicken. “You know why I am so drawn to Jenna? Besides that she’s a great kid.”

He shook his head.

“I was a runaway when I was around her age. My dad left when I was in seventh grade and my mom, well, home life had always been a struggle even with Dad home. He wasn’t the most reliable guy, my dad.”
A real loser, nothing more than a crook who
involved his young daughter in his cons.
She didn’t say anything about that. She couldn’t. The letter in her pocket weighed heavy on her soul. “He actually went to prison for all sorts of crimes. Theft being the main one.” She finally admitted it, giving him a satirical smile. “He was a real winner.”

His gaze was unwavering and kind. “I’m sorry. You deserved more than that.”

She didn’t really know what to say, but now that the floodgates had opened, Maggie kept talking. “My mom, she kind of spiraled out of control. It was hard. She drank, and we moved from apartments pretty often. It was very . . .” What was the word? “Hard. Let’s just say Mom loved her drugs and her revolving door of boyfriends. I was—” she broke off on that note, not certain she could tell Tru, but she saw his fear for her there in his gaze. “It was bad. I never knew from day to day if I was going to have a place to sleep and if I was going to be safe if I went to sleep.” That had been the worst. She looked away on that note.

Then added, “I spent a lot of nights curled up in the corner of the maintenance room of the apartment house or some other corner I could find.” Tru’s eyes had hardened.

“So you ran away? Was it because someone finally hurt you?” She could hear the struggle for control in his voice.

She shook her head. “I knew it was a possibility, that it was only a matter of time before something happened. I knew it was up to me. No one else was looking out for me and so I had to have the courage to leave. I stuffed a backpack full and walked out and never looked back.”

He just stared at her for the longest time, his fist curled up on the counter beside the coffee cup. His eyes glittered. “How did you make it?”

“I was just barely seventeen when I left. A little older than Jenna. I’d been creative and lucky and had managed to live unharmed until then. So I was able to get a job at a coffeehouse. No one was looking for me. I didn’t matter and so I was able to get odd jobs . . . but I lived on the street, hiding out in bathrooms and a few other places.” She didn’t mention Shane. Couldn’t tell him that she’d gotten mixed up with a bad guy who’d ended up robbing a convenience store. Shame ate at her. Had followed her all these years. She’d run away from him and changed her name after that. But she’d never forgotten it. Shane had been caught and had gone to jail.

His expression hardened. “You had to live on the
streets?
What happened?”

She smiled. “Like I said, I got a job in a coffee shop. The owner, a very nice woman, let me have all the hours I wanted so I worked most of the time for a few weeks. If I was there, I wasn’t on the street. I went to church, too, and met Amanda there. She happened to be sitting in the pew when I sat down beside her. Which was a God thing.” Maggie would never forget that moment. Amanda had smiled at her, offered her name and asked Maggie’s. For some unexplainable reason, she’d felt amazing hope in that moment. Without even blinking an eye, she’d told Amanda that her name was Maggie Hope—she’d been using that name ever since she’d run from Shane. It had just come out of thin air the day she’d started using it. She didn’t tell Tru any of that.

“When the service was over, I was walking down the road, my backpack on my shoulder with everything I owned inside. Amanda saw me and pulled over and asked me if I’d like to go eat lunch with her. And from her act of kindness, I found a roommate and best friend.”

Tru traced the line of her face. “I’ll have to thank her sometime. I’m glad you were safe.”

Maggie had never told anyone her story. Amanda knew she was a runaway and that her home life held threats that made not being there her safest bet. But other than that, no one knew she was a runaway. And no one knew Maggie Hope wasn’t her original name.

And she’d told Tru almost everything. Why?

Because she’d come to trust him.

She laughed shakily, grabbed her lukewarm coffee, and moved past him. Needing space between them desperately.

Needing to think.

She walked back outside and Tru followed. This time she bypassed the swing and walked to the edge of the deck to lean against the railing. The stars glistened down on her and the air felt so clean, much better than the stifling memories.

“I hate that you went through that.”

She shrugged. “I lived. And it could have been worse. I’m one of the lucky ones. I worked, got my GED, and managed to get through community college.” In order to do all of that she’d first officially changed her name to Maggie Hope.

“That’s amazing.”

“Yeah. My mom died that year. Overdosed.” She didn’t say how deeply guilty that had made her feel. How sad and guilty. If she’d stayed, could she have helped her?

The very thought haunted her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Maggie knew she’d done what she had to do. She stared out at the night. The turmoil conjured up by thoughts of her past eased a little as she stared into the still darkness. The cry of the coyote seemed more of a lonely cry to her now rather than spooky.

Tru stepped up behind her, and all of her senses came alive. He touched her hair, his fingers tracing gently down it as if soothing her. “I’m glad you were strong. You did what you had to do. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

He understood. She turned and found herself surrounded by his presence. Her heart raced. He was all she wanted to think about in that moment.

None of her past mattered right then. None of it.

She got lost in his eyes. Drank in the way the porch light silhouetted him as she touched his chiseled jaw. Her gaze dropped to his generous mouth. “God always has a plan,” she said softly, lifting her gaze to his. Wanting his kiss, and his arms around her.

He gently pushed the hair at her temples away from her face. “Your attitude is amazing. You’re amazing.”

He was going to kiss her. She wanted him to so badly.

“You deserve so much. You deserve to have everything your heart desires. All of your wishes.” The words were earnest, his eyes fierce, when he looked at her again and with a barely there brush of his lips against hers, he backed up. “I have to go. Are you okay here?”

She felt breathless and suddenly confused. Had she shared too much?

“I’m fine.” She wasn’t, but he wouldn’t know that. She followed him through the house to the front door. He didn’t pause until he was in the yard.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Maggie felt the ground shifting unsteadily beneath her. “Sure. I’ll be there.”
Sure . . .
boy, did that sound easy and uncomplicated. Especially since she wasn’t sure about anything.

And he was gone. In his truck and gone, leaving her feeling more alone than she’d ever felt in her life.

23

Tru’s heart pounded relentlessly as he drove away from Maggie.

He ached for her and the desperate situation she’d faced as a defenseless girl growing into a young woman. If he could have found her father in that moment, he’d have broken every bone in the man’s face. Tru wasn’t a violent man, but he had his limits. His anger dissipated only because there was nothing he could do about her past. Looking at her now, he knew that she was okay. She’d landed on her feet—her spirit of survival and belief gave her an indisputable hope. And that made her resilient.

She’d even landed a job that enabled her to help other people look past bad situations and find the hope in them.

She was remarkable.

His life had hard times, but nothing like this. Nothing. He was grateful that he and his brothers had things under control even in the worst of times—which didn’t compare to Maggie’s life. The ranch would be solid and on its feet for good if they all kept up the hard work they were doing.

And his cancer when he was six had been found in an early stage. They’d treated him aggressively and he’d handled it by focusing on following in Pops’s footsteps. He’d not been thinking about children or the possibility of not being able to have them. But the difference had been that he’d had family supporting him. Maggie had faced everything alone.

His respect for her compounded. Only adding to the fact that he was falling hard for Maggie Hope, and there was no good that could come of that.

Maggie deserved the house full of kids like she mentioned. He could already see the amazing mother she would be. Her children would never suffer—feeling unloved and worthless as she’d felt. Her children would know that they were wanted and adored every day of their lives.

But not if he were in the picture. There would be no children.

Unless they adopted . . . how would she feel about that?

And what right did he have to even be thinking these thoughts?

He had to get through the rest of this challenge. Help Maggie be a competent rider so that she looked good when that camera caught her cutting and showed it to the world.

And then he’d watch her leave and wish her life every happiness. God had dealt him a hard card. But, looking at Maggie and seeing how she was so optimistic, it gave him the determination to move forward and handle it better himself.

It just wasn’t going to be with her.