Buch lesen: «Home for Good»
“I Made A Promise To Protect You.”
But pregnant Ali Silver’s husband broke his vow and walked away from her. After being injured in combat, Jericho has finally come home to Bitterroot Valley to make peace with his father and regain Ali’s trust. But the single mom’s keeping secrets of her own. And someone’s killing off Ali’s cattle and sabotaging her horse therapy business. Jericho will do whatever it takes to protect his wife and be a real father to his son. Because when it comes to love and second chances, he’s one determined cowboy.
“Do you even know what day it is?” Ali asked. “How difficult this is?”
She whirled to walk into the house, but Jericho captured her arm and made her face him. Setting the basket down, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Today is the nine-year anniversary of the day the girl of my dreams married me. It was the happiest day of my life. I could never forget.”
Tears made her eyes look like melted chocolate. His gut twisted. He never wanted to be the cause for this woman crying ever again.
“Your anniversary gift is in there on the table.”
“My gift?”
He smiled. “I owe you a heap more. I’ll make up for the lost years, too, if you’ll let me.”
JESSICA KELLER
As a child, Jessica possessed the dangerous combination of too much energy coupled with an overactive imagination. This pairing led to more than seven broken bones and countless scars. Oddly enough, she’s worked as a zookeeper, librarian, camp counselor, horse wrangler, housekeeper and finance clerk, but now loves her full-time work in law enforcement. Former editor of both her college newspaper and literary journal at Trinity International University, Jessica received degrees in both Communications and Biblical Studies. She lives in the Chicagoland suburbs with her amazing husband and two annoyingly outgoing cats who also happen to be named after superheroes.
Home for Good
Jessica Keller
MILLS & BOON
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Hope deferred makes the heart sick,
but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.
—Proverbs 13:12
Thank you to Mom and Dad, for all your support. To Lisa, who always believed in me. The Wunderlich sisters, who were never shy about feedback, and for both being as in love with Jericho as I am. Special kudos goes to Sadie who urged me to write in the first place. Thanks George and Wanda, for taking the time to answer all my questions about living in the country. Carol and Kristy, my beloved NovelSisters, your prayers made this book a reality. And to Matthew, I could never express in words how much your support and encouragement means to me. I love you so much.
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
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dear Reader
Questions for Discussion
Excerpt
Chapter One
After what seemed like a lifetime of bad days, Ali Silver couldn’t wait to share a carefree afternoon with her son at the city picnic. Sunshine washed through the valley, giving a glow to the rivers and casting shadows out of the sharp mountain canyons to the west. With the pickup’s windows rolled down, the air drifted in, spiced with alfalfa and silver sage. Fields of bucking hay splashed across the landscape, juxtaposed with the occasional lone apple tree—relics leftover from once substantial orchards.
Ali drove with one hand on the wheel, the other cocked in the open window. “Hang on to that. We don’t want to spill it before the soldiers get to taste it.”
Her son, Chance, hugged the bowl on his lap. “I know. This is the special potato salad. The one you only make for special people.”
“Like you.” She winked at him.
After waiting in a line of traffic to enter the park, Ali maneuvered her beast of a truck into one of the last available spots. She took the potato salad from Chance, and they ambled toward the crowd near the food tables. A couple local firefighters manned the grills. They waved. The smell of sizzling brats tickled her nose.
Hannah, a shop owner in town, signaled to Ali. “Isn’t this just the nicest thing? I do believe the Hamilton Civic Club pulled out all the stops to honor these troops.”
Ali balanced the bowl against her hip. “Having a picnic to honor the local servicemen who have returned this year was a great idea. I’m glad the town is doing something. And Chance loves anything to do with the army, so he’s tickled to meet them.”
Hannah clasped her hands together. “Oh, yes. I like them teaching the young people to support the troops.”
Chance yanked on Ali’s arm.
Hannah chuckled. “That boy’s eager!”
Messing up his hair, Ali smiled down at her son. “Go on and find Aunt Kate and see if you can snag an empty table for us.”
Without waiting to hear more, Chance took off running. Ali’s heart squeezed. He might mirror her brown-sugar-like freckles, but the thick maple-colored hair that stuck up on the side when he woke in the morning, his square jaw, the angular nose and intense pale blue eyes—all of that belonged to his father. Chance looked just like...
Ali shook her head. She did not want to think about him. Not today. Not ever.
Instead she chose to weave through groups of mingling neighbors, greeting them with a nod since her hands were full. She located an empty place for the potato salad on a table already loaded with deviled eggs, baked beans and desserts. Satisfied that the food situation was under control, Ali snatched a gooey-looking brownie and raised it to her lips.
“Hiya, Ali.”
The voice from her past rocketed through her with the force of a kick drum. The brownie flew out of her hand, leaving a powdered-sugar trail down her shirt on its way to the hard dirt. She spun around.
Jericho Freed.
All six feet of him, clad in jeans and a fitted gray-striped button-down. His bold, masculine eyebrows rose as he surveyed her with look-me-in-the-eyes-if-you-dare blues. He wore a straw cowboy hat with unruly hair poking out, and a five o’clock shadow outlined his firm jaw. More than eight years later, and the man still made her mouth go dry.
It frustrated her that after everything, he still had that power.
So she did the only rational thing she could think to do. Flee.
In a fluid movement, Ali sidestepped him and took off sprinting at a breakneck clip. Her hat flew off.
He yelled out her name.
And just like in the past, his voice poured sweet and velvety, like chocolate over each syllable. Ali’s nails dug into her palms. She didn’t want to hear him. She never wanted to fall under his spell again. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she ran.
Why was he here? Oh, why hadn’t she moved away when she had the...chance? Chance! Suddenly she pounded faster, the narrow toe of her boots chafing against her feet.
Jericho couldn’t see Chance. She wouldn’t let that happen. God, please!
Ali zeroed in on her sister Kate milling next to the volleyball court.
She waved her arms. “Quick! We have to find Chance! Now!” Ali pressed a hand to the stitch in her side as she looked over her shoulder, scanning the crowd for the cowboy with impossibly blue eyes. He hadn’t followed her.
Kate jogged toward Ali, her eyes wide. “Sis? I don’t see smoke coming from your hair, so if it’s not on fire—what is?”
She seized Kate’s arms, clamping down on reality. “He’s here. He’s back. What am I supposed to... What if he... What about Chance?” Her voice rose in a frenzy.
Kate shook her gently. “Who’s here?”
“My husband.”
* * *
“Ali! Alison!” With his hands looped onto his belt buckle, Jericho kicked, sending a cloud of Montana dust into the air. Maybe he should chase after her, but his knees probably couldn’t handle running at that clip.
Great. Just great.
He rubbed the back of his neck as Ali hightailed it like a spooked filly. At that speed, she might make the Canadian border by nightfall. It sure wasn’t funny, though. A man couldn’t laugh, not when the rejection felt like a sledgehammer hitting him square in the chest. The cold look in her hazel eyes told him where he stood. Unwelcome. Unforgiven. How could he have expected anything else? But her reaction rankled him all the same.
He rubbed his jaw and growled. Could he blame her? No. What kind of man envisions a warm welcome after eight years of silence? Jericho Eli Freed. Stupid man.
A young boy with floppy hair ambled toward him. “Are you really a soldier?”
Jericho cleared his throat, pulled at the fabric of his army pants and dropped to one knee. “I sure am.” Or was.
“That’s cool. I want to be a soldier someday.” At this confession, the child looked down and dug his toe into the ground.
Keeping his voice low to draw the kid out of his shell, Jericho asked, “Do you feel funny around new people? ’Cause I sure do. When I was your age, I just had one friend in the world and she was the only person I’d talk to.” Jericho laid a hand on the boy’s scrawny shoulder.
Suddenly a shadow loomed over them. “Get your hands off of him.”
Jericho jerked back and looked up—and his mouth fell open. Fire in her eyes, Ali Silver stood there, an arm wrapped around the boy as she pulled him close.
Jericho jumped to his feet, putting his hands palm up in surrender.
Even seething mad, beauty radiated from her. Sure, she had changed in the last eight years, but in a good way. Auburn mellowed her once fire-truck-red hair. The long tresses he remembered were now cut so they skimmed her ears. Cute.
Ali. His Ali. She’d been a slim thing, barely entering womanhood when he left. Now she had gentle curves that he had to school his eyes not to explore. Her hazel eyes held a soft sincerity that drew him in. A familiar tightening gripped his stomach as his pulse started to go berserk.
The kid pushed against her. “No, Mom, he’s not a stranger. This is a soldier. We were becoming friends.”
Jericho’s mind raced like a mouse caught in a maze. Mom? The single word sent a zap through his body, like someone had dumped a vat of ice over his head. Ali was a mother? Had she remarried? Impossible. The kid was what? Six? Seven—?
“Ali?” He tried to meet her gaze, but she looked away.
“Hey, Chance.” Ali leaned over to speak close to the child’s ear. “I think I see your teacher, Mrs. McBride, over there. Can you do me a favor and find out how she liked those pies we made her?”
“Ali?” Jericho repeated. His mind latched onto the name Chance and filed it away for later.
Chance’s brow creased. He looked at Jericho, then back at his mother. “How come he knows your name, Mom?”
Despite the sweltering day, a cold sweat pricked the back of Jericho’s neck.
* * *
Her mouth went dry. No matter what, Ali had to get Chance away from Jericho. She placed her hands on her hips. “It doesn’t matter, Chance. Now go visit with Mrs. McBride for a minute.” After sending Chance away, she took a deep breath and turned to address Jericho, but couldn’t make herself completely meet his gaze. “I don’t know why you’re here—”
“We need to talk.” He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“There is no ‘we.’”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I disagree. Unless I slept through signing some sort of papers, you and I, well, we’re still married.”
Her tongue suddenly felt like a dried-up riverbed. We’re still married. Fear skittered down her spine like racing spiders. Of course. As a teen mom on her own, she didn’t have spare money to toss around on lawyer fees.
She balled up her fists. “I want you to leave.”
He shook his head, reached a hand out toward her, then dropped it to his side. “I’m back, Ali—back for good.”
“Why?” The word came out more whisper than force.
She stared into his intense blue eyes, her gaze dipping to the single freckle above his lip. Same dime-sized scar near his eye, the slight tug of his lips—always ready to joke.
He stepped closer. “I need to talk to you. Explain about being away.”
“Just being away? How nice. Sounds warm and fuzzy, like you took a vacation.”
He ran a hand over his hair, cupping the back of his neck as he tipped his head to the side. “I always wanted to come back. But—”
“Stay away from me. Stay away from my son.”
“I need to—” He reached for her.
She slapped away his hand.
“Ali...” He grabbed her elbow, and a thrill skittered up her arm and down into her stomach. She let out a muffled cry. Why? Why, after all these years, was his name still branded across her heart?
Fighting the hot tears stinging her eyes, she jerked from him. “Don’t touch me. Please, don’t touch me.” A sob hung at the back of her throat. “I can’t do this. I can’t handle being this close. I can’t talk to you.”
“But I have to talk to you. Give me fifteen minutes. Please?” His voice flowed, soft and reassuring.
“No!” She swiped at the traitorous tears squeezing from her eyes.
A warm, steady hand touched the small of her back. She turned to find Tripp Phillips, local lawyer, old classmate and friend, beside her. In his usual dress pants and polo, his stability brought an ease of calm to her shaking nerves. She gripped his arm.
“Alison, is something wrong?” Tripp’s voice came out controlled and comforting. He had a manner that made even the most skeptical of strangers immediately warm to him. “Is Freed bothering you?”
“Tripp Phillips, I don’t believe you were a part of our conversation.” Jericho’s voice hardened.
“Rightly so, but I’m not going to stand around while you make Alison cry.”
“I’m not crying,” Ali mumbled.
Tripp turned her into his shoulder. His hand cradled the back of her head as he wedged his body between her and Jericho.
Jericho growled.
Chance chose that moment to come bounding back. “What’s wrong, Mom?” He wrapped his arm around Ali’s waist and peered at her from under thick black eyelashes. “Mrs. McBride liked the pies, but I didn’t tell her about the green worms we found in the berries. Did you think I did? Is that why you’re crying?”
“I’m not upset about the worms, honey.” Ali caressed his tanned face, and Chance rewarded her with an impish grin.
Tripp cleared his throat. “I think your mom’s not feeling well today, buddy. We better take her home.”
Jericho held her gaze. “Ali, I’m not done trying to talk to you.”
Tripp turned and led her away from the monster of her past. Good old Tripp. At least one dependable man remained. If only Tripp had been the one to chase her in high school instead of Jericho, life might have turned out differently. At least Tripp stood by her now, always helping and advising her. His sound counsel lifted a weight from her shoulders, and she was grateful.
Chance twisted around, then cupped his hands around his mouth. “Wait! Are you going to be at the fireworks show tonight?”
A chill ran through her veins.
Then that voice from her dreams over the last eight years answered back. “’Course, Chance. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
* * *
Jericho wanted to hit something. No, he wanted a drink. A nice, tall amber malt with a high head of foam. Hadn’t wanted that for five years, but there you go.
Looping a hand over the back of his neck, Jericho tensed as Tripp guided Ali away, like an auctioneer showing off a prized mare.
Could Tripp be Chance’s father? Fear sliced through him.
Jericho stalked past the picnic and grabbed the door handle on the rusted Jeep he had found at his dad’s house. So she ran into another man’s arms when he left? And if he was right about the kid’s age, she didn’t even wait for sunset before finding comfort in Tripp.
He kicked the tire.
Maybe he had left Ali, but he’d always been faithful. Always loved Ali, and only Ali. Left because he loved her too much to stay and watch himself destroy her.
Jericho climbed into the vehicle and slammed the door. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. What was a man to do? He came home to mend his marriage. After all his wandering, Jericho finally felt like a man worthy of being a husband.
Was he too late?
Chapter Two
As Ali drove under the American flags suspended above Main Street, panic welled up in her throat.
She’d have to see him.
“Mom, drive faster. We’re gonna be late to the fireworks.” Chance bounced in the backseat.
From the passenger’s seat, her sister Kate laid a hand on Ali’s arm. “Are you all right?”
Ali glanced back at her son. “This traffic’s pretty bad.”
Kate shrugged. “Everyone is just excited. A week ago we thought the show would be canceled like last year.”
“I still can’t believe the donations the city got at the last minute. Wish I knew who had purse strings like that. I could tap them for Big Sky Dreams.” Ali bit her lip. The worry she felt over the financial problems of her nonprofit organization was never far from her mind.
“This is different. The Fourth of July. People get excited about patriotic stuff.”
“You think blowing up a bunch of cardboard is more important than helping handicapped kids?”
“Now don’t go putting words in my mouth, big sis. You know I think what you do is worthwhile. I’m just saying, the draw for something like this is more universal.”
Ali bumped the truck along the grass-trodden lot being used to park overflow for the fireworks show. The three climbed out, scooped up their blankets and plodded across the fairground’s field, looking for a spot to claim. Ali stopped often to chat with her neighbors, wave to her horseback-riding students and embrace folks she’d grown up with.
As the first explosion resounded in the sky, Ali relaxed. Propped on her elbows, she laid back, watching her son’s face more than the Fourth of July display. His mouth hung slack as his eyes sparkled to match the show lighting up the night sky. He wore a giant toothy grin. She wished she could recapture that feeling in her own life. Would she ever again know that feeling of freedom, of trusting and letting go? Where had her joy gone?
Jericho Eli Freed. That’s where. The man had successfully smashed her hope of a white knight when he ran off like a bandit with her dreams.
* * *
Standing there, ten feet away from the love of his life, watching her smile and sigh, an ache filled Jericho that reached clear to his toes. So his Ali wasn’t all mountain lion snarls and rattlesnake warnings. As she watched her son, softness filled her face. Beautiful. Staring at his wife, his mind blanked out.
“Hey, lover-boy.” A warm hand touched his arm, and he glanced over. Kate stood at his elbow. “Are you going to look at her all night? Or will you man up and do something?”
“You’re talking to me? I figured all the Silvers hated my guts.”
Kate motioned for him to follow her a few paces away from where Ali and Chance sat. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Are you still in love with my sister?”
Jericho swallowed hard. Bold little thing. The last time he’d seen Kate, she’d been a skinned-knee kid.
“Well? Answer me, cowboy.” Her eyebrow drove higher.
Jericho cleared his throat. “Yes. ’Course. I’ve always loved her, always will.”
Kate nodded. “Bingo. Well, if that’s the case, I’ll help you.”
“You wanna help me get Ali back?”
She let out a long stream of air, like he was daft for not tracking with the conversation. “Yes. When you left, Ali fell to pieces. You know better than anyone that she didn’t have the easiest life. But with you, when you were there for her, all that other stuff didn’t strangle her. Then you left, and...”
You destroyed her.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’d do anything to change the fact that I left.”
“But I need to know, before we become partners in this, are you a better man now?” She jammed a finger into his chest, and he knew exactly what she meant. You still a drunk? Ornery? Will you leave again?
He lifted his hands, palms out. “I’m a man surrendered now, Kate. Still make mistakes. But I haven’t touched a bottle in five years, and I’ve made a promise to God that I never will. I won’t hurt Ali. I came back to make good on my wedding vows...to honor and protect her, to fix what I did. But she doesn’t want me at all.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
“But what about Chance?”
Kate held up a hand and shook her head. “Not my story to tell.”
Sweat slicked his palms. “Don’t know, Kate. I was watching her just now. She smiles for everyone but me. She started crying when I talked to her. I think she’d relish watching the buzzards pecking at me before seeing me again.”
“That’s because if she lets down her guard with you, she stands to lose the most.”
“Meaning?”
“You cowboys are all seriously dense.”
He rolled his eyes. “Continue.”
“She’s closed off to you because she loves you the most. That makes you the biggest danger of all. If someone else rejects her or betrays her, she can shrug that off, but you? That’s everything to her. Has been since you two were kids.”
Well, that was clear as mud.
“So here’s the plan.” She glanced back at Ali, then leaned toward him. “In a minute these fireworks will be done, and I’m going to ferret away Chance with the lure of some sparklers.” She patted the bulge in her purse. “That’ll leave you a good amount of time to talk to Ali.”
“But what do I say?”
“If you can’t figure that out, cowboy, then you don’t deserve my sister.”
* * *
Alone, lying back and scanning the night sky through the leftover smoke hanging in the air, Ali almost breathed a thankful sigh—but then he sat down next to her, took off his hat and tapped the brim against his leg.
“I don’t want you—”
“I know.” He wound his hat around in his hands, and the motion tugged at all the broken places inside her. “I know you don’t want me. And after a time, if you still feel that way, I’ll honor that. I’ll leave you alone for good.”
“Good, I want that. Now.” She started to sit up, gathering the blanket Chance and Kate shared during the show, but his warm hand on her arm stopped her. He gently turned her to face him.
She sighed. “Okay, if I let you talk, we’ll be done? You’ll leave after that?”
“If that’s really what you want.” He ran his fingers over the rim of his hat.
“It is. So go ahead, shoot.”
He gave the slightest sign of an outlaw smile. “Not a good thing to say to a cowboy.”
She rolled her eyes. “Speak, rover. Talk. Say whatever it is you’re so bent on telling me.”
He shifted. “I should have never left.”
“You’ve got that right.”
He placed a hand on her arm and gently squeezed. “Let me talk, woman, please.” Jericho removed his hand. “That day. You’ve got to understand that I had to go. I had no choice. I was so afraid that I’d hurt you, Ali. I loved you so much, and I sat there watching myself destroy the one person in the world who meant anything to me. That day when I lost it...tossed your lamp...well, I saw a streak of my pop in me, and it made me sick. I got in my car and just took off, kicking up a cloud of dust.”
Blinking the burn away from her eyes, Ali moved to stand up. “I don’t need to hear a replay of this. In case you forgot, I was there.”
He stopped her with a touch of his hand. “Please stay.”
Who was he to beg her to stay? But like a fool, she hunkered back down.
“I stopped at Pop’s house and had an all-out yelling brawl with him, then lit for the state line. I got a job driving a tour bus at Yellowstone. They canned me a couple months later when they found out I hit the scotch before the rides. I spent the next year or two working as a ranch hand at different places, most of the time herding at the back, eating cattle dust and that’s about all I felt I was good for. I thought about coming back—wanted to—but I was a sorry mess that you didn’t need. I drank more than before. Drank all my money away. But God kept me alive, so I could come back to you and—”
“I hardly think God has anything to do with it. You were a drunk, lying, good-for-nothing boy.”
He nodded. “I can’t argue you about that. I was. And I took the coward’s way. I just needed—” he closed his eyes “—escape.”
Ali bit back a stream of words. Adults didn’t get the choice of escape. They bucked up and dealt with it, like she had. “Escape from what? Me?” Her muscles cringed. Never enough. Her love couldn’t heal him. She’d failed as a wife, and that’s why he left.
“No. Never you. I needed to escape me.” He thumbed his chest. “I was furious at God for taking my mom, hated Pop for becoming a cruel drunk—then hated myself just as much for becoming everything I despised in him. I was angry that I couldn’t be what you needed. I talked you into running away from your family in the middle of the night, into marrying me when you were only eighteen. I had nothing to give you but my heap of troubles. I was just a kid myself, and I didn’t have the first clue how to take care of you properly. What kind of man was I? So I drank. I wanted to be numb. I wanted nothing to matter anymore, but I kept seeing your face, kept catching whiffs of pretty flowers that reminded me of you.” His ratty straw hat flaked apart as he twisted it round and round in his hands while talking.
With a bull-rider’s grip on her purse, Ali chewed her bottom lip. Jericho’s humility unnerved her. He was supposed to be cocky. He was supposed to smell of alcohol, combined with the cigar smoke from whatever bar he’d rolled out of at three in the morning. But no, he sat here emitting an intoxicating mixture of hard work, rain and alfalfa.
He paused, his soft eyes studying her. When she didn’t respond, he continued. “It got worse, though. I found myself sneaking into barns at night just for a place to sleep away the hangover. Homeless...can you imagine?” He gave a humorless laugh. “The great ranch baron Abram Freed’s son, homeless.” He threw up his hands. “One night an old rancher found me, and I thought he was going to shoot me between the eyes, but he invited me inside. Let me sleep in his guest bedroom. He was a veteran, and when he talked about his time in the service he just became a hero to me. This man had been through so much terrible stuff, but he was even-keeled and kind. And I wanted to be him. So I enlisted. I owe that man the life I have now.”
“You’re really a soldier, then?”
He put back on his hat, steepling his hands together. “Ali, who’s Chance’s dad?”
The question froze every inch of her that had thawed during his story. “He doesn’t have one. He’s my son. That’s it.”
“Unless he’s adopted...that’s not really possible.”
“Are you done?” She knew her harsh tone would wound his open spirit, but she didn’t care. Not when Chance got pulled into the conversation.
He sighed and worked the kinks out of the back of his neck. “After I enlisted, I went through training and spent some good time learning what it means to be a man of discipline and determination. After a couple years my group got drawn for deployment, and I wanted to call you, wanted to say goodbye, but didn’t feel like I had the right to. Not one person I cared about knew I was over there, knew I could die at any minute.”
Die? Her head snapped up. Could he have died without her ever knowing? Wouldn’t her heart have felt the loss? Regardless of her anger, she would never have wanted that.
Across the field, Kate and Chance picked their way toward her.
“...but then one day we were sent on this mission and—”
She cut him off. “That’s great, Jericho. Sounds like life without us worked out just fine for you. Our lives have been good without you, too. I got some schooling and started a nonprofit that I really care about.” She rose, hoping he’d follow suit.
“Without us?” He took the blankets from her arms.
“What?” Her tongue raced against the back of her teeth.
He quirked both eyebrows. “You said us, plural.”
She pushed him away with her best glare. “Us...as in the Bitterroot Valley, your dad, the people here in Montana that you grew up with.” Her hands shook. Almost gave it away. Foolish mouth.
Chance’s rapid steps approached.
“Your story, well, it doesn’t change much for me. I still want you to turn on those boots and do that walking-out bit you’re so good at.”
“I can’t, Ali, not yet.”
“But you said you’d leave if that’s what I wanted, and I do.”
“I came back because I have to ask your forgiveness. And if we can, I want to fix our marriage. Be there for you like I promised nine years ago.”
“I don’t want that.”
“Hey, Mom! You found Jericho!” Chance frolicked around the two adults.
“How were the sparklers, buddy?” She dropped down and pulled her son into her arms.
Chance’s gaze flew to Jericho, and his cheeks colored. The little imp wiggled free. “They were great. My friend Michael told this girl Samantha that he was going to put a sparkler in her hair and light it on fire. But Kate told him that someday he’ll be sorry he ever talked to girls that way.”
