His Texas Bride. Deb Kastner

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      Her compassion in light of their past together confused him. Perhaps she was doing this only for the sake of his mother. He sensed an unseen wall between them, erected by Ellie’s emotions, one he knew he couldn’t break down even if he wanted to. He’d built that wall with his own two hands.

      Not that it mattered, he told himself.

      Buck knocked on the glass on the passenger’s side of his pickup truck, a vehicle that had seen better days. Tyler, dressed in a new pair of blue jeans and a blue denim shirt, had his head back against the seat and his eyes closed, his MP3 player in his hand and earphones in his ears. Buck knew Tyler wasn’t dozing, even when he didn’t so much as open an eyelid to Buck’s persistent knocking.

      Maybe the boy was playing his music too loud to hear Buck knocking.

      Choosing to give Tyler the benefit of the doubt, Buck dug his keys from the front left pocket of his black jeans, unlocked the door and opened it.

      “Wake up, kiddo,” he gently told his son, shaking the boy by the shoulder. He presumed Tyler was intentionally ignoring him, as he had been all through the trip back to Ferrell, and through the funeral service, as well. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

      That got the boy’s attention. Apparently Tyler’s music wasn’t as loud as Buck had first supposed.

      Tyler opened his eyes—blue, like his mother’s—and scrubbed a hand through his light blond hair, also a maternal trait, not at all like Buck’s own sandy brown hair and green eyes.

      Ellie stepped forward, extending her hand. “Hi, Tyler. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Ellie McBride. I was a friend of your grandmother. And your father,” she said, making it sound almost like an afterthought. “I’m truly sorry for your loss.”

      Tyler squinted down at Ellie’s outstretched hand but ignored it. Instead, he simply shrugged and tipped his head back against the seat, closing his eyes once again.

      “Miss McBride is having a reception in honor of your grandmother,” Buck said sternly, wishing he’d taught his son better manners, though glancing at Ellie, she didn’t seem to have taken the least offense at Tyler’s breach of etiquette. She was smiling compassionately at the boy.

      “There are quite a few boys your age,” she offered. “I can introduce you, if you’d like. Maybe you can make a few new friends while you’re in town.”

      Tyler grunted and shook his head, and Buck began to think he’d raised a Neanderthal. How could he blame the boy, though? Buck knew all about being silent and broody. He’d invented it.

      “Tyler, get out of the truck. Now,” he stated in a firm, no-nonsense voice.

      “No,” Tyler and Ellie replied at the same time.

      Buck didn’t know who to glare at first, so he swept his gaze across both of them.

      “Really, there’s no need,” Ellie continued. At least she was attempting to explain herself, while Buck’s own son chose to ignore him completely. “My ranch is just north of town, just off Main Street, to the right. McBride’s Christian Therapy Ranch. You can’t miss the sign.”

      Therapy ranch?

      That was a mighty fancy name for a tourist trap, Buck thought with an internal scoff. He wanted to cringe in distaste. This was exactly why he’d left Ferrell in the first place.

      Instead, he kept his thoughts to himself. Forcing himself to be polite, he tipped his hat at Ellie and strode purposefully to the driver’s side of the truck. “We’ll see you there.”

      Ellie’s meeting with Buck and Tyler hadn’t gone at all as she’d anticipated. Actually, she’d had no idea what to expect—not after twenty years.

      What she hadn’t expected was how quickly all her feelings came back, flooding into her heart as if someone had opened a gate. Buck still made her stomach weak with butterflies and her heart sing, no matter how she tried to tamp it down.

      Frankly, Ellie hadn’t expected to feel anything for Buck. Twenty years was a long time.

      And if she felt anything, it should be anger, she mused. But she’d buried that emotion ages ago, and it hadn’t returned, at least not yet. Not even when she’d first seen Buck at his mother’s graveside. God’s forgiveness was an amazing thing—she knew it wasn’t her own spirit that had healed her heart.

      Time had healed her heart. That, and a lot of prayer. Still, she continued to surprise herself. Ellie had felt a bit of righteous indignation on Buck’s mother’s behalf, perhaps, but not what she would classify as anger.

      And as she watched Buck now, standing in the middle of her family room, surrounded by townspeople he’d known all his life, she felt nothing but pity. Buck had once been the most important part of her world. She had moved on, but Buck, Buck looked like a man who’d seen one too many days on the rough side of life.

      At least he looked more comfortable now than he had at the graveside, having shed his Western jacket and bolo tie. He was still dressed entirely in black, however. His Western shirt was now open at the collar, although, she mused with a touch of amusement, Buck still looked a little like he was choking.

      It was probably the crowd suffocating him, Ellie thought. One more painful reminder of how much he’d changed. She remembered a time in his high school years when Buck had once loved being the center of attention.

      Speaking of attention, Ellie realized she hadn’t seen Tyler enter her dwelling with Buck. She felt an instinctive kinship and a sense of responsibility to the boy, who, under different circumstances, might have been her own son.

      He wasn’t, but that didn’t stop Ellie from a small burst of maternal feeling. Of course, Tyler didn’t want to spend an afternoon surrounded by people he didn’t know offering him condolences on his grandmother’s passing.

      Buck’s mother, whom Ellie had called Mama Esther for as long as she could remember, had been especially close to Tyler. Ellie knew from Mama Esther’s recounting how difficult a time Tyler had had adjusting to his mother’s abandonment when he was only two years old.

      And now, at age twelve, poor Tyler had lost his beloved grandmother.

      Ellie excused herself from her hostess duties and slipped into the homey, aromatic kitchen and out the back door. Pausing for a moment to push her hair out of her face, she made her way to the front of the house, where Buck’s truck was parked amid the rest of the town’s vehicles.

      Cupping her hand over her forehead against the sun’s incessant glare, she peeked inside the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Tyler.

      The truck was empty.

      Ellie was surprised. She’d been certain she’d find the young man locked in the truck with his MP3 player blasting in his ears, as he’d been earlier. It was what she would have done were she the one in Tyler’s place.

      But, she realized with sudden insight, it wasn’t what Buck would have done given the same circumstances. And suddenly she knew exactly where to look for Tyler.

      Turning on her heel, she strode away from the truck, but not the way СКАЧАТЬ