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“No, because Sheriff Larkin was threatening to take Corey to a group home.” Leah paced. The one thing she did know about Holt was he was leery of people, especially of his father’s friends. “Give me a few days to see how things go with Corey. Then I’ll introduce you to Holt and you can ask him.” She checked her watch. “I need to go shopping for a young man.”
Leah spotted the apple pies cooling on the counter. “Hey, Mom, you wouldn’t have any extra, would you?”
“Oh, I think your father can get by with one pie.”
Pie in hand, Leah kissed her mother and sister goodbye and took off to do her errands. The first stop was the trading post to pick out clothes for Corey. She couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since the boy had anything but hand-me-downs. Well, a new pair of jeans and a shirt was a must. She walked by the shoe section and spotted a pair of buckskin boots.
She smiled. Every cowboy needs his own pair of boots.
Leah arrived back at the Silver R Ranch about two o’clock in the afternoon. When she found the house deserted, she went down to the barn. No one was there, either. It wasn’t until she heard voices that she wandered outside to the corral where Corey sat on top of Daisy and was being led by Zach around the arena.
Holt sat on the fence as Corey took instructions on riding. Leah took the time to watch the man on the railing. As much as he tried to act indifferent, she could see he was intensely interested in the boy’s progress.
Why did Holt hold himself so apart? What had happened between John and Holt to keep a father away from his son? She had a dozen questions that she knew she wouldn’t get answered anytime soon. So she focused on the happy looking boy on the horse. Maybe Corey would be the one who broke through the man’s tough shell.
One could always hope.
Suddenly Holt’s face went through a transformation. His mouth twitched and curved into a hint of a smile.
The sound of Corey’s laughter made her turn to the small rider on the horse. Zach had let go of the bridle so the boy handled the reins on his own. The youngster beamed as he sat high in the saddle and directed the horse around the corral.
“You’re doing great, son,” Zach called.
Leah watched as Corey glanced toward Holt. Even she could see that the boy wanted his approval.
She strolled to the fence, climbed onto the railing and sat down next to Holt. “Corey’s doing great.”
“Zach’s been working with him.” Holt turned to her. “Did you bring your things?”
“Yes,” she told him. “Enough for a few days. I also picked up some clothes for Corey.”
“The sheriff stopped by about an hour ago. He dropped off what the boy had at the foster home. Just some old clothes and another pair of worn tennis shoes, barely enough to fit into a grocery sack. I almost tossed it in the trash. But Corey grabbed the bag and took it into his bedroom as if it were some sort of treasure.” He sighed and tipped his hat back.
“Oh, Holt. That’s so sad.”
“Yeah, and it doesn’t get any better. Seems Corey’s dad is in prison, and he isn’t eligible for parole for a long time.”
Her heart ached. “So he’s been in foster homes for a while.”
He nodded. “Speaking of which, Reed also said we’d be getting a visit from Social Services. Probably tomorrow.” His gaze met hers. “I want you there with me.”
Leah felt the heat from his look, trying to tell herself this was only for the boy’s sake. “Of course. And I want to thank you for doing this for Corey.”
“It’s temporary, Leah. I can’t offer the boy any more.”
She wanted to argue the point, but saw the pain in Holt’s eyes. There were so many things she wanted to know about this man. But she knew he wasn’t willing to share. Maybe he never would.
It was after seven o’clock. Leah had just finished cleaning the kitchen after supper. Zach retired to his small house out beyond the barn to watch television. Holt had disappeared into the den to do some paperwork. What did she expect from the man, to keep her company?
Corey came barreling into the kitchen dressed in his new blue Western shirt, dark denim jeans and a pair of buckskin boots. “Leah, how do they look?”
She smiled at his excitement. “You look great. How do the boots fit?” She knelt down on one knee for a closer look.
“I put on two pair of socks like you said.” He nodded. “So they’re okay.”
She stood. Corey had eagerly accepted everything her mother had collected from the church. “Well, you’ll probably outgrow them in a few months.”
“I can wear the other pair of boots you brought when I help Zach tomorrow.”
“Good idea. They’re already broken in.” The ladies at the church had been generous in sending clothes along with a pair of kid’s boots.
Just then Holt walked in. He glanced at Corey then continued to the coffeemaker. After pouring himself a cup he turned around and leaned against the counter. He eyed the boy more closely. “You need to break those in.”
“I will,” Corey said and glanced at Leah. “Maybe I should wear old jeans to work in and save these for good.”
“If that’s what you want,” she said.
Holt gestured toward the clock. “It’s not too late if you want to watch some television before turning in.”
Corey nodded, then paused before leaving to look back at the two. “Good night, Leah. Thank you for the clothes.”
“You’re welcome. And good night, Corey.”
The two males exchanged a nod and Corey disappeared from the kitchen.
Leah turned back to Holt. He was watching her. “Coffee?”
“No, thank you.” She had enough things to keep her awake without the help of caffeine. “I think I’ll say good-night, too.”
Holt didn’t want Leah to go yet. He’d spent too many nights alone in this house. He was beginning to doubt his decision to stay. “Wait,” he called to her. “We need to talk about tomorrow.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s up tomorrow?”
“The social worker. She’s coming out to see if I’m providing a suitable temporary home for Corey.”
“Well, are you?” she challenged.
“You seemed to think so about twenty-four hours ago. Are you having second thoughts?”
“No. It’s just that I’m worried about Corey. He seems a little jumpy around you.”
“I’ve hardly said anything to the kid.” He put down his cup and came to her. “And he avoids me about as much as you do.”
Her eyes widened. “I told you I had errands to run and clothes to pick up.”
“So you’re going to be around tomorrow?”
“Of course. I want Corey to stay here—at least until they find a good permanent home for him.”
Most likely that wasn’t going to happen. Not many people wanted to adopt an eight-year-old boy. “That’ll be a problem for the future. But if Corey is to live here for the time being, we need to play the happy couple…for the social worker.”
“We didn’t tell Reed we were a…couple.”
Holt shrugged, enjoying her discomfort. “I’m not sure what we need, but when Social Services shows up we should at least act like we know each other.”
“I guess you’re right.” She turned those velvet-brown eyes on him. “So, give me a rundown on yourself in twenty-five words or less.”
That made him smile. She made him smile. “So, don’t you want to know more?” He cocked an eyebrow. “What if I have a sordid past?”
“What if I do?” she returned. “I mean, I’ve been out of the country for the past three years.”
His eyes roamed over her petite frame that he’d come to appreciate more and more. Leah Keenan looked like the all-American girl. Just the type you took home to the family—the type you married. Definitely not his type.
“Were you ever in prison? Have you taken illegal drugs? Robbed a bank?”
“Of course not. You can contact the magazine I work for in New York. They’ll vouch for me.”
He fought to hold back a grin. “I was kidding. You’ve got small-town girl written all over your face”
“Unlike the city slicker from New York.”
Holt had no doubt that she’d heard about his childhood when he’d lived here. “You already know John Rawlins was my father. When my parents divorced, my mother took me back to her family. I stayed there until college, and afterward I worked as a financial adviser for a Wall Street firm. I’m not married, not engaged, there isn’t even anyone in my life…at the moment.”
She drew a breath. “I lived here in Destiny since I was four months old. Since the day my mother brought her three daughters to the Keenan Inn and left us.”
“Whoa …” He frowned. “How did that happen? How could she …?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure how she could have done it. According to my adoptive mother, our biological mother didn’t have a choice. Claire and Tim Keenan adopted us as soon as legally possible. So you see that was the reason I couldn’t leave Corey to fend for himself.”
Holt was surprised by her story, but Leah lived in a fantasy world. “There may not be a damn thing we can do to help Corey.”
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS nerve-racking for Leah.
They were all gathered around the kitchen table as the social worker from Durango, Lillian Gerard, wrote in her notebook. She’d talked with Corey earlier, getting his personal account of his life in the last foster home.
“I’m not going back,” Corey told her. “You can’t make me.”
The middle-aged woman stopped what she was doing and turned her attention to the boy. “We’re not going to make you go back, Corey. We’ve discovered things about the…situation that make the house you were in unsuitable. The question now is, finding you another place to live.”
“I want to stay here.”
Mrs. Gerard looked at Holt. “That’s what Mr. Rawlins and I have to discuss.”
Holt straightened in his chair. “Corey, why don’t you take Lulu an apple,” he said.
Leah knew the boy loved to feed the mare. But he hesitated before he got up, grabbed the fruit from the bowl on the counter and headed out the door.
“Okay, Mrs. Gerard, let’s cut to the chase,” Holt began. “Do you have a home for Corey?”
She sighed. “Honestly, no. There’s nothing available at the moment. He’ll have to go into a group home.”
“No, he can’t,” Leah said angrily. “He’s only eight years old, and in the last two years, he’s been in four homes. He’s run away from every one of them.”
The social worker looked sympathetic. “I know, but there just aren’t enough good foster homes available.”
“Isn’t there’s a relative who can take him?” Leah inquired, hoping they’d searched for someone who would care. She turned to Holt for support, but he sat stone-faced.
Mrs. Gerard looked over the file once again. “There is a distant cousin but she’s in poor health. And since Corey’s been labeled hard to handle, the available foster parents passed on him.”
“Well, look how he’s had to live,” Leah said defensively.
“There’s another option,” Mrs. Gerard said. “He could stay here…temporarily.”
Holt raised an eyebrow. “I qualify as a foster parent?”
“Since your home meets all the requirements, I can give you emergency status, thanks to Sheriff Larkin’s recommendation of you and Miss Keenan…and I know Leah’s mother.” She smiled. “And of course, we had to do background checks on you both. But most importantly, I’ve seen how Corey is when he’s around you.” She sighed. “So the question is, Mr. Rawlins, are you willing to keep the child here in your home?”
This time Holt’s gaze connected with Leah’s. Even though he’d been gruff to her, he’d been fair to the boy. He would be the perfect guardian for Corey.
“I’m a bachelor, Mrs. Gerard, I’m not sure I know how to parent….”
“None of us know how to be a parent in the beginning, Mr. Rawlins. We more or less learn as we go. I’ve seen you interact with the boy. He respects you. That’s a big step.”
Holt turned to Leah. “Are you going to hang around?”
She found she’d been holding her breath. “If you need me to, I’ll be here.” Was she crazy? How could she cohabit with this man?
“All right, Mrs. Gerard, I’m willing to keep Corey here…until a suitable home is found for him.”
Over the next twenty minutes Holt filled out paperwork and they finally said goodbye to the social worker and watched her drive away.
Holt looked at Leah. “What have you gotten me into?”
“Me? I was willing to take Corey to my parents’ home. You stepped in and said he could stay here with you.”
His mouth quirked. “Well, you’re in this with me.” He stepped closer. “So pack your bags, darlin’, because you’re moving in. Looks like we’re going to be one big happy family.”
Later that afternoon, Holt adjusted his hat as he walked to the barn. He’d been crazy to let Leah talk him into this. But he’d let her talk him into a lot of things. The fact of the matter was, he’d let her get to him. New York had been full of beautiful, sophisticated women who knew the score. He’d been able to pick and choose and pretty much call the shots. But the one time he’d tried to have a long-term relationship, he’d failed miserably.
Now, it seemed the tables had been turned. Sassy Leah Keenan was calling the shots and suddenly he was responsible for an eight-year-old boy.
How could he give guidance to a child when he’d lacked positive male influences in his own life? Hell, his own father hadn’t been in his life for years. Even his maternal grandfather hadn’t been attentive to him as a child, or as an adult. His chest tightened as he recalled the familiar rejection. No matter what he’d achieved in sports, academics, in his career, Holt never could live up to his grandfather, Mackenzie Pershing’s, expectations. And he’d never been given the chance to live up to John Rawlins’s.
Holt entered the barn and found Zach cleaning a stall.
“So how did it go?” the old man asked.
