Jenna's Cowboy Hero. Brenda Minton

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      Her fingers stilled over the small cut and he opened his eyes, looking at her. She glanced away. “I’m cleaning it. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

      He looked at the boys. Jenna glanced over her shoulder and smiled at them. They were cringing, twin looks of angst on their suntanned faces.

      “It’s really bad,” David whispered.

      “Does it need stitches?” Adam asked them, not her. As if they were the authority.

      The boys were nodding. “It has a lot of blood.”

      Timmy and David stepped closer.

      She shook her head. “Don’t listen to them. It won’t even leave a scar.”

      She pulled the backing off the Band-Aid with fingers that trembled as she put the adhesive strip in place. She felt like a silly teenager watching the star football player from across the dining room of the local Dairy Bar. She’d never been the girl that those football players dated.

      “Finished?” He touched his cheek and pushed the chair back from the table.

      “Finished. Now, if you want, I’ll drive you to the camp.”

      “That sounds good. I’ll make a call to the rental company and have a car delivered.”

      Settled, just like that.

      With Adam “Big Mac” Mackenzie behind her, she walked out the back door. As she headed for her truck, she walked slowly, hoping he wouldn’t notice if she stumbled.

      But what did it matter? She was who she was. And Adam Mackenzie was passing through.

      The boys were climbing into the backseat of her truck squabbling over who sat on what side. She smiled, because that’s who she was, she was Timmy and David’s mom. But as she opened her truck door, she caught Adam Mackenzie’s smile and she was hit hard by the reality that she was more than a mom. She was obviously still a woman.

      Chapter Two

      Adam slid into the old truck and slammed the door twice before it latched. He glanced sideways and Jenna Cameron smiled at him, her dimples splitting her cheeks and adding to her country-girl charm. He knew a dozen guys that would fall for a smile like that.

      He knew he’d almost fallen when he looked up as she dabbed salve on his face and caught her staring with brown eyes as warm as a summer day. She’d bitten down on her lower lip and pretended she wasn’t staring.

      The boys were buckled in the backseat of the extended-cab truck. They were fighting over a toy they’d found on the floorboard. He wondered where their dad was, or if they had one. Jenna Cameron: her maiden name, so she wasn’t married. Not that he planned on calling her. He had long passed the age of summer romances.

      The truck, the farm, a country girl and two little boys. This life was as far removed from Adam’s life as fast food was from the restaurants he normally patronized. He kicked aside those same fast-food wrappers in the floor of the truck to make room for his feet. A toy rattled out of one of the bags and he reached to pick it up.

      “This should stop the fighting.” He reached into the back and the boys stared, eyes wide, both afraid to take the plastic toy. “I’m not going to bite you.”

      They didn’t look convinced. Jenna smiled back at them. He would have behaved, too, if that smile had been aimed at him. The smaller twin took the toy from his hand. Another look from Jenna and the boy whispered a frightened, “Thank you.”

      The truck rattled down the drive and the dog ran alongside. When they stopped at the end of the drive, the dog jumped in the back. What would his friends think of this? And Morgan—the woman he’d dated last, with her inch-long nails and hair so stiff a guy couldn’t run his fingers through it—what would she say?

      Not that he really cared. They’d only had three dates, and then he’d lost her phone number. How serious could he have been?

      “You grew up not far from here, right?” Jenna shifted and the truck slowed for the drive to his camp. He couldn’t help but think the word with a touch of sarcasm. It was the same sarcasm he typically used when he spoke of home.

      “Yeah, sure.”

      “Are you staying with family?”

      “Nope.” He rolled his window down a little farther. He wasn’t staying with family, and he didn’t plan on talking about them.

      He’d taken his father into the spotlight he craved, and now it was over. Retirement at thirty-three, and his father no longer had the tail of a star to grasp hold of. They hadn’t talked since Adam announced his retirement.

      Over the years his relationship with his family had crumbled, because they’d made it all about his career. His sister had faded away a long time ago, probably before high school ended. She’d yelled at him about being a star, and she wasn’t revolving around his world anymore. And she hadn’t.

      The truck bounced over the rutted trail of a drive that had once been covered with gravel. Now the rain had washed away the gravel and left deep veins that were nearly ditches. The truck bumped and jarred. Overgrown weeds and brush hit the side panel and a coyote, startled by their presence, ran off into the field. The dog in the back of the truck barked.

      “This can’t be the place.”

      “Sorry, it is.” Jenna flashed him a sweet smile that didn’t help him to feel better about the property, but he smiled back.

      She reminded him of girls who’d wanted to wear his letter jacket back in high school. The kind that slipped a finger through a guy’s belt loop as they walked down the hall and kissed him silly on a Saturday night.

      “If it makes you feel better, there are plenty of people around here looking for work.” She broke into the silence, speaking over the wind rushing through the cab of the truck and country music on the radio. “Take a drive into town and there are half a dozen guys who will mow this with a Brush Hog.”

      “That’s good to know.” Not really.

      He sighed as they continued on. Ahead he could see a two-story building with rows of windows. Probably the dorm. To the left of the dorm was a stable, and to the right of the dorm, a large metal-sided building. Jenna parked in front of a long, single-wide mobile home.

      “Home sweet home.” She pushed the door open and jumped out. “It really is a good quality mobile home. And there’s a tornado shelter.”

      She pointed to a concrete-and-metal fixture sticking up from the ground. A tornado shelter. So, the manager would duck into safety while fifty kids huddled in a dorm. He didn’t like that idea at all. Billy probably hadn’t given it a second thought.

      Billy had lived a pretty sketchy life for the most part. A few years ago he’d found religion and then a desire to do something for troubled kids. Adam had thought Billy’s plan for the camp was legit. Maybe it had started out that way.

      Adam walked toward the mobile home, wading through grass СКАЧАТЬ