decision was made for her. Max wouldn’t get a chance to reject them.
She never looked back.
Approximately thirteen years later, Cody didn’t know the difference. She’d made a home for them, a loving home, despite the sacrifices and hard work required of a single mom putting herself through college, avoiding her hometown and keeping the details a secret from her parents. She didn’t want the shotgun wedding her father threatened. Not with Max Ringgold. She might deserve to pay for her mistakes, but her kid deserved better.
Yet despite all those logged miles on the treadmill, Emma had never quite been able to outrun the guilt.
She shut her car door and steered Cody toward the front porch of the main house, where she assumed registration would take place. “Let’s go.” Time to shake off the past—that’s why they were there, after all. To get a fresh start, a second chance. Maybe for both of them. Secrets long buried were best left buried, and just because she was back in Broken Bend didn’t mean they’d all be resurrected.
The front screen door squeaked open on its hinges, and boots thudded onto the wooden porch. She glanced up at the approaching cowboy with a smile, relieved that someone was finally there to take charge. She could relax, take a much-needed break. Cody would be in good hands.
The cowboy lifted the brim of his black hat, and her smile slipped away as shock gripped her in a cold, unrelenting vice.
He’d be in Max Ringgold’s hands.
* * *
Max Ringgold always figured his past would one day come back to taunt him. He just never dreamed it’d latch around his ankle and knock his feet right out from underneath him.
He stared at the blonde woman before him as if she might have two heads. Two identities, for sure, because she looked exactly like Emma Shaver. Yet there was no way. No way. Emma hadn’t been back in Broken Bend in a decade. Maybe longer. He used to know the weeks to the day but eventually stopped counting. Hard to heal from an injury when you kept poking at the wound.
But this woman was looking at him as if he’d sprouted a second head, too—so maybe it was possible after all.
Her mouth opened and closed, then pressed into a tight line. Red dotted her cheeks. Yep, that was her. He’d always been able to make her blush. Part of the problem. He’d been inexplicably drawn to the Good Girl, her to the Bad Boy—and the chemistry that resulted could have blown a crater throughout most of the town. Why did something that happened a lifetime ago suddenly seem like yesterday?
He knew he should say something, anything, to break the awkward silence, but his years of training in dealing with troubled teens didn’t cover how to deal with moms who were ex-girlfriends.
He took off his hat, then regretted it. He probably had hat hair, and now he felt even more vulnerable under her laser-sharp gaze. “I’m Max.”
Emma’s fair eyebrows lifted, and he winced. She knew that. But he had to say something. Besides, the kid didn’t know who he was, and that’s why they were there. He turned his attention to the teen standing beside Emma and offered his hand. Man to man. “Max Ringgold.”
The boy grunted, reluctantly offering a quick, limp shake. They’d have to work on that. A man was known by his handshake. “Cody Shaver.”
An alarm sounded in Max’s subconscious. Shaver. So Emma wasn’t married. He darted a glance to her left hand to make sure, and wanted to kick himself with his own boot as she caught him, well, red-handed. He slammed his hat back on his head.
“Come on inside. We’ll get you signed in then catch up with the rest of the tour.” Max held the door and motioned them forward. Cody clomped inside, dragging his duffel behind him on the floor. Emma followed, gaze lowered, the scent of her peppermint perfume lingering long after she squeezed past.
Max checked his watch, partly to know the time and partly to resist the urge to touch her hair, silky and shiny as a shampoo commercial—the kind that definitely didn’t belong on his ranch with all the dirt, dust and horse sweat flying about. Good thing she wasn’t staying.
His heart seconded that idea as she flashed wary azure eyes at him—the same eyes that peeked at him from the photo he still had stashed in his sock drawer.
The photo didn’t do them justice.
He let the screen door snap behind him as he directed them to his office off the dining room, which he’d converted from an old closet. He didn’t spend much time there, except for the occasional paperwork, prayer time or private conversations with the kids.
The other nine campers, three girls and six boys, had arrived and checked in half an hour before and were being given a brief tour by the live-in counselors, Luke and Nicole Erickson. He’d noticed the increasing size of Nicole’s stomach beneath her maternity top earlier and had raised an eyebrow at Luke, who’d assured him she wasn’t due for another month. Just in time to finish this camp. Then he’d have to find a replacement for her while she took maternity leave.
The stress of that significant problem suddenly dimmed compared to the throbbing in his temples at Emma’s proximity. He slipped behind the desk to give himself space, trying to ignore the way his heart pounded under his work shirt like a runaway horse.
“Here we are. Cody Shaver.” He ran his finger over the printed name and made a check mark in the column—and a mental note not to let Nicole handle the precamp paperwork anymore. If he’d seen Emma’s name as Cody’s guardian on his forms earlier, he’d have had a heads-up. All he personally received was the list of the kids’ names two weeks prior to camp, so he could pray for them.
Then again, the odds of another ex-girlfriend popping up seemed a little slim.
“Is there a problem?” Emma’s voice sounded as strained as the muscles in his neck as he jerked his head up to look at her, realizing he’d been staring at the document for far longer than he should have. Emma Shaver. Wow. When did she have a son? How old was Cody? He’d have to check the full file later. But apparently Emma hadn’t wasted a lot of time pining over Max after leaving for college.
Though she was supposed to have come back.
The thought burned his stomach and he licked his suddenly dry lips. “No, there’s no problem. No problem at all.” The past was the past. The important part now was that Cody was here, and he needed help—regardless of who his mother was. Max had to get his priorities in order, quick, or he’d do more harm than good. These kids counted on him, and he wouldn’t let them—or God—down.
Not again.
He found his warmest smile, despite the cold expression in Emma’s eyes attempting to freeze his heart. “Welcome to Camp Hope, Cody. It’s going to be a great month.”
The kid grunted, as if he didn’t believe him. Emma didn’t look as if she particularly believed him, either.
Which was fine, because at the moment, he didn’t fully believe himself.
Chapter Two
Luke led the tour of the campus, the scripted words falling naturally from his mouth. Good thing, because Max was having a terrible time paying attention.
As they crossed the worn path from
