Last Chance Cowboy

Jenna walked toward her, tall and slim with their father’s auburn hair and blue eyes. Wearing a stylish pair of dark pants and an expensive-looking patterned top, she had a smile on her face that, as usual lately, never reached her eyes.

Shadow led Jenna over to a metal bench, one of several lined up along the walkway of the strip mall anchored by the bookstore and an ice cream/candy shop. Whenever Shadow couldn’t make it to the city, this made a convenient meeting place.

Jenna all but tapped an impatient foot on the sidewalk. She rooted through her designer handbag. “Why did you want to see me?”

Shadow abandoned the soft lead-in she’d rehearsed, as she’d failed to do with Grey before walking into the diner, and plunged right in. “I want to bring Ava home.”

Jenna paled. “Home?”

Ten years ago Shadow had made some tough decisions—decisions she hadn’t gotten to tell Grey about yet—and she and Ava had lived with Jenna and her husband for the two years before Shadow’s move back to Barren. But now Grey knew about Ava, and Shadow could follow through with the rest of her plan. But Jenna kept shaking her head.

Shadow tried to soften her tone. “My business is doing pretty well, and I’ve even saved some money. I can never repay you for stepping in when I needed help the most, for taking us both in. You and David helped me move in to my house, and with the school year ending, you know there’s no reason for her to keep staying with you—except that you want her to. I can’t blame you for that. Ava just lights up a room, doesn’t she?”

And only last night Shadow had gone into what would be her daughter’s bedroom. She’d sat there, hoping Ava would like what she’d done with the space, dreaming of what it would be like when they were together again.

“She can’t move right now.” Jenna met Shadow’s gaze. “Her summer break hasn’t started yet.”

“I know, and I realize we’ll have to transition from your house to mine. That’s why I wanted to talk to you first. Then I’ll speak with Ava. I know she’ll have some objections—”

Her sister’s eyes filled with tears.

“Jenna, I love how good you are with her, I know you’ve become attached—”

“She’s my only niece. This past year she’s spent more time with me than with you.”

Shadow tensed. This wasn’t going well. “That couldn’t be helped. I had to commute between Barren and Shawnee Mission. Building the agency, buying the house...all of that took time and effort, but you knew those were first steps toward me bringing Ava home. I didn’t want to uproot her into yet another uncertain situation. But you knew I’d always planned for this. For us to be together in our own place again.”

She couldn’t wait for the chance to tuck Ava into bed each night, to know that in the morning she would be there, eager to start the day. With Shadow. But Jenna didn’t agree.

“This is just such a...shock.” She took a shaky breath. “Shadow, I love Ava. So much that I would adopt her if I could. No, I want to adopt her.”

Shadow’s pulse hitched. Why hadn’t she seen that coming? She had no intention of giving up her child, and she’d thought Jenna understood that. Shadow had worked and worked toward bringing Ava home. To build the solid foundation she hadn’t been able to provide her daughter for the first six years of her life, when Shadow had struggled just to pay rent on their tiny apartment. Jenna’s statement terrified her. But then, Jenna also had her husband to consider. Had she talked to him?

Shadow doubted he would be as eager to adopt as Jenna was. He’d always liked being her first priority, and more than once Shadow had seen him turn away from Ava as if to cut out the competition. The infertility that had plagued her sister had never seemed to bother him as much, even though he’d agreed to all of the in vitro fertilizations they had tried without success. Would he really side with Jenna on this?

“What about David?”

Jenna’s gaze flickered. “He’s busy right now, planning for a conference in Chicago before he has to go on to his firm’s branch in Salt Lake.” She hesitated. “Dave’s not in the best mood, anyway—he’s worried about his chances to become partner—but as soon as he gets his trip arranged, we’ll talk.”

That news surprised Shadow. David had always portrayed himself as a legal star, the golden boy of his prestigious firm and a shoo-in to become partner. If he didn’t make that, after all, his mood would probably get much worse. She wondered if he’d be willing to talk about adoption then. Not that Shadow intended to let things get that far.

“You’re not being reasonable, Jen. David has always wanted a child of his own. I remember his objections to you adopting in the first years of your marriage. I doubt he’s changed his mind. And I certainly haven’t changed mine. I understand how you must feel but Ava belongs with me.”

Jenna lowered her voice with obvious effort. “Are you sure about that?”

The question pushed Shadow off balance. “Of course I am. It’s not healthy for us to be apart so much. Without her, I’m just...adrift. I know Ava and I will need to make some readjustments, but I’m prepared to do that.”

“You won’t have to if she stays with me.”

“Jenna, I’m not saying moving Ava will be easy, but it’s the best thing for her. Not that our lives together were simple before. You know how we struggled until finally I felt so overwhelmed, and frightened for her welfare—”

“That you came to me.”

And to be fair, Jenna hadn’t hesitated to take them in. When one year had stretched into two, she’d been happy to let them stay. Then, a year ago, when their father died and Shadow had returned to Barren for his funeral, she’d found an opportunity she couldn’t resist to open her agency there instead of paying Kansas City prices to rent an office. That had been the chance she’d needed to secure Ava’s future. Ever since, she’d been juggling her job and her responsibility to Ava, working in Barren five days a week then spending the weekends with her at Jenna’s house. Now it was time to end that, to be with her daughter every day. And oh, how Shadow had missed her. This past year had been very hard on both of them.

For a moment she let herself remember their everyday routine—getting Ava off to school, cozying up at bedtime to read her favorite book, sharing mother-daughter conversations and silly jokes. Kissing her good-night.

Still, she had to let Jenna know how grateful she was. “If it hadn’t been for you and David, I don’t know what I would have done.”

The fact that Jenna, a year older than Shadow, had been, and still was, in far better financial shape couldn’t be denied. Their spacious home in Shawnee Mission, an upscale community just outside Kansas City, had given Ava advantages Shadow couldn’t supply then, especially the school in which Ava had started first grade. Now Jenna stayed silent.

“I didn’t want Ava to end up in poverty the way you and I grew up.” Shadow drew a deep breath. “I wanted her to have something better.”

Jenna’s mouth set in a hard line. “She still does.”

Shadow was shaking. She’d never expected Jenna to be so unwilling to let Ava go, even to the point of bringing up adoption. “I’m in a different situation than I was before, and yes, that’s thanks to you in large part. But Jenna, I’m her mother!”

Shadow tried to collect herself. This was going even worse than her moments with Grey at Annabelle’s Diner and in her office. “We’ve talked about this before, Jen. Surely you knew we’d move out as soon as I was able to provide Ava with everything she needs. She’s my first priority. She always has been. She always will be, and I used that time while we lived with you to improve things—for her benefit.”

Shadow had worked two and sometimes three jobs, paid off her mountain of bills, saved every penny toward buying her house in a good neighborhood in Barren. After becoming a teen mother, she’d finally gotten her GED, and later completed courses to become an administrator at the same nursing home where she’d been an aide. As a supervisor, she’d developed the leadership skills needed to open Mother Comfort, all the while planning to be with her daughter in their own home.

“I have two bedrooms now,” she said. “Ava won’t have to share like we did when we had that first little apartment in the city.” Shadow laid a hand on Jenna’s arm and felt her flinch. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jen. I don’t want you to lose her, either,” she said. “You can see Ava whenever you wish. That doesn’t have to change. She can spend some weekends with you and David—the way I’ve been commuting this past year while I got the agency going. I know she loves you, too.”

Jenna glanced at the sky. “Well, let’s see. You love Ava. I love Ava. You love me. That’s all very nice, Shadow. But the real question is—does she still love you?”

Shadow’s breath caught. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Haven’t you noticed? She’s become so resentful. While you were studying, working, she learned to rely on me. Most mornings I see her off on the school bus, and who takes her to soccer practice and the pediatrician when you can’t be there?”

“That’s not fair. I was home with her as much as I could be. Maybe I was wrong to wait even this long—”

“She didn’t ask to come with me today. She didn’t ask about you, Shadow. I don’t think you realize what’s happened here.”

Shadow swallowed. It hurt to know that in recent months Ava had become closer to Jenna than to Shadow, and yes, she’d noticed that. Already her relationship with Ava had begun to change, not for the better.

Jenna did have a point. Ava hadn’t understood why Shadow needed to be in Barren during the week this past year, only spending Friday night through Sunday in Shawnee Mission. The commute had worn her down, but Shadow had stuck to it. And several times, when Ava was sick, she’d closed the office to stay with her—which was only right. She’d gone to every parent-teacher conference, to her spring concert, arranged sleepovers with her friends. But in trying to do the best thing for her child, had she only made things worse?

Now she had Jenna and their relationship to deal with, too. And Grey.

* * *

GREY TOSSED HIS hat onto the sheriff’s beige metal desk then sank down on a wooden chair across from him. “So that’s what happened,” he said.

Finn Donovan had listened patiently to Grey’s report to his deputy about his missing cattle, offering a comment here and there or asking a question. Grey had first thought of the new chief law enforcement officer of Stewart County more as a typical hard-working cowboy—like Grey—rather than a cop. Finn wore no gold star on his chest, and on his lanky frame were a faded blue denim shirt and jeans, as if he’d just wandered in from some barn or pasture. He wore scuffed brown boots that had seen better days, but despite his casual look he had a mind as sharp as a spike of broken barbed wire.

He gazed at Grey.

“I gave Logan a call to follow up while you were signing your statement.” He pointed toward the outer room, where Grey could hear the continual clack of computer keys and the constantly ringing phone. The air smelled of burned coffee. “His men tell him they’ve lost a few cows but not as many as you did. What does that say to you?”