A Wife in Wyoming. Lynnette Kent

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A Wife in Wyoming - Lynnette Kent Mills & Boon American Romance

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sat up straight in his chair. “And you want to bring them into our home?”

      “They’re boys, Ford. Little more than children. The judge was going to sentence them to community service all summer, but I persuaded her to let me try this program. I want to show these kids where choosing the right side can take you. I think they will be immune because bad behavior will carry penalties.”

      “What kind of penalties?”

      “If they fail this program, they return to the court system and end up with a juvenile record. They don’t deserve that. They’re not bad. Just confused.”

      He blew out a deep breath, just as Angie sidled up to their table. “Dessert?”

      Caroline shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly.”

      But Ford nodded. “Kate’s apple pie? With ice cream?”

      “Coming up.”

      He’d welcomed the interruption, though it only delayed the inevitable. He wasn’t a man who went around kicking puppies. But right now he felt like one.

      Propping his elbows on the table, he captured Caroline’s gaze with his. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I served several internships in family law, dealing with these kinds of kids. I mentored them. I wrote briefs for their court appearances. I investigated their home lives, their schools, their friends. Do you know what I saw?”

      “What?”

      “Nine out of ten didn’t give a damn about what we were doing for them. And the ones who did couldn’t escape, even if they wanted to. I don’t think I caused meaningful change for a single kid I worked with.”

      Caroline clasped her hands together on the table. “That’s terribly sad. But does it mean you stop trying?”

      He wasn’t getting through to her. “Why are you so determined to implement this plan? What do you hope to gain?”

      Her chin lifted, and a stubborn light came into her eyes. “Why are you so opposed to it?”

      Ford shook his head. “You first.”

      She blew out a short breath. “I honestly believe that everybody deserves a chance to succeed, regardless of their income, their family situation, their history. Kids in particular ought to be offered options for a better life. What I hope to gain is a better place to live for all of us.”

      “So you’re basically trying to save the world?” He meant it as a joke, to ease the tension.

      Caroline didn’t smile. “Somebody needs to. Why not me...and the Marshall brothers?”

      “Because some people can’t be saved.” Ford folded his arms across his chest. “No matter what you do for them, they break the rules out of self-interest and simple, downright meanness. In the process, they often hurt the people around them, including the ones trying to help them.”

      “These are kids, Ford. They’re not old enough for meanness.”

      “This is my family, Caroline. This is our home, which I spend my life working to protect. You may believe a signature on a release form reduces our liability. As an attorney, I can tell you that lawsuits are easy to file and hard to evade. An injured kid could cost us thousands, even hundreds of thousands of dollars, maybe cost us the ranch itself. More important, our reputations are vulnerable in this situation. One of those kids could claim they were molested on the ranch, and all of us would become suspect. Frankly, I’ve come too far in my professional and personal life to take that risk lightly. My brothers are good men—I would hate for them to deal with that kind of public harassment. You wouldn’t be immune, either. Your job—your whole life—could be ruined because of a teenager’s whim.”

      She didn’t flinch. “I think it’s worth taking the chance.”

      “I disagree.”

      “You’re saying no.” Her face was pale, her big eyes wider than ever and, as he watched, they started to shine with unshed tears.

      He let his arms relax, resting his fingertips on the table. “I’m really sorry, Caroline. I understand what this means to you, what you hope it might mean to the kids. But I’m saying—”

      Angie slid a saucer laden with pie and a huge scoop of ice cream across the table in front of him. “Jerk,” she said before walking away.

      He used his index finger to move the scoop of ice cream from the table back on top of the pie. “What I’m saying is that I’ll vote no when the time comes.”

      Caroline frowned. “Vote?”

      “That’s how the Marshalls make decisions.” Ford pushed the plate away. He’d lost his appetite. “Everybody gets a vote on something that affects the ranch as a whole. Like this program of yours.”

      “What do you do if there’s a tie?”

      “Wyatt’s the boss, so he gets an extra vote if he wants one.”

      Hope replaced despair in Caroline’s pretty face. “So even if your vote is against me, there’s still a chance that the Marshalls as a family would agree?”

      Ford sat forward, resting his arms on the table. “My vote isn’t against you.”

      There wasn’t anything about Caroline to vote against, that he could see. The tousled mahogany hair, the rosy cheeks and shining eyes, the way a lightweight yellow dress set off her curvy figure and slender legs... No, not a single thing to object to, in his opinion. “I don’t consider your plan to be in our best interest. That’s all.”

      “Wyatt may think differently. Garrett certainly does. What happens then?”

      “I guess you go forward with your project.”

      “But you’d still oppose me?”

      “If the family votes yes, I’ll cooperate.”

      She shook her head. “Spoken like a lawyer. I’ll just have to hope that Wyatt and Dylan are willing to take a chance on my kids.”

      “We’ll talk it over and let you know as soon as we’ve reached a decision.”

      She gave him a bright smile. “Then I guess the faster I get you home, the faster I’ll hear the answer.”

      Which gave him a fair idea of where he stood as far as Caroline Donnelly was concerned.

      * * *

      THOUGH SHE’D GROWN UP practically next door to the Marshall brothers, Caroline had never been to the Circle M Ranch. Yet here she was on a Sunday afternoon, driving Ford Marshall home. He looked relaxed enough in the passenger seat, but he seemed to fill up the space around her, which made getting a decent breath difficult. When she tried, his scent teased her nose with hints of pine and grass edged with an exotic tang she couldn’t name.

      His silence was getting on her nerves, so she spoke the thought at the front of her mind. “You and your brothers didn’t grow up at the Circle M, did you?”

      “No.”

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