Her Guardian Rancher

He might have given in to some other ways of easing the guilt. He had plenty of friends who had found comfort in the bottom of a bottle. He also had friends who relied on faith. They seemed better off, if he was being honest.

He focused on work, and on keeping Jamie and Emma safe. Fixing a fence from time to time when she’d let him, buying Christmas gifts that he had delivered to their house, so she wouldn’t turn them away.

He eased into the seat by the window of the chapel. A picture hung on the wall with a verse about comfort. This room was meant to comfort.

He bowed his head, hat in his hands. He hadn’t prayed in a long time. He guessed he’d never been much of a praying man. He hadn’t been raised the way Boone had, going to church, having faith, believing it above all else. When he’d filled out the paperwork to join the army, he checked the Christian box because if anyone had asked, of course he believed in God.

He’d prayed for Andy to live. Now he would pray for Jamie. And God had better be listening. Because she was a little girl. She was three years old with her whole life ahead of her. She had a mom who would do anything for her. And she had a granddad who loved her “more than the stars in the sky.”

That was what Art had told her when he said goodbye to Jamie, before Boone gave the older man a ride home.

Daron hadn’t been raised going to Sunday school. He’d been to church a few times with the Wilders. That was the sum total of his experience with prayer. But he felt as if he had the basics down. Petition God. Ask the Almighty to spare a little girl.

When he heard a noise, he looked up, heat flooding his face. He stood, nearly knocking the chair over in the process. He jammed his hat back on his head and faced the person standing just inside the doorway.

Emma, head tilted, dark hair framing her face, studied him as if she’d never seen him before. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” She brushed a hand over her face and shook her head. “Not that you wouldn’t pray. That isn’t what I meant.”

He waited, a grin sneaking up on him, as she found words for what she meant. She was cute. He’d avoided that thought for a few years because Andy had been married to her and there were lines a man didn’t cross. But tonight, in a softly lit chapel, sleep still in her eyes and her dark hair a bit of a mess, he couldn’t deny it. He guessed his brain was a little sleep addled, too.

“I meant, I thought you’d come to your senses and left,” Emma finished.

“Should I be insulted that you were surprised to find me in the chapel?” Daron teased. “Or because you thought I’d leave you here alone.”

“Stop.” She held up a hand. “Please, not right now.”

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