Love Inspired January 2014(254)

                Rachel preferred to treat the horses on her own unless there was a problem that required a decision on his part, and he couldn’t really blame her. They’d dated a few times back when he worked for Brady, and while it’d been obvious she wanted to take things to the next level, he couldn’t. Not honestly. Not without traces of Emma lingering in his heart. It just wasn’t fair—Rachel deserved better.

                So did Emma, for that matter. As she clearly realized on her own the day she disappeared from his life.

                But today, he wanted to see Rachel. He hadn’t needed her at the ranch in almost six months, and it was a little ridiculous that they still acted like junior high kids at a dance—Awkward City. He was tired of hiding. It was time to be adults. Besides, he wanted to hear her opinion on Buttercup’s leg firsthand since the mare had been perfectly fine last week. Hopefully it wasn’t anything too dire—or expensive.

                He entered the barn, welcoming the familiar scent of hay, leather and horseflesh, and inhaled deeply. It never failed to amaze him of all he’d accomplished in the past several years. If it hadn’t been for Brady’s kick in the hindquarters to get his own spread and put feet to his faith, he’d probably still be assisting his best friend at the Double C Ranch. But God was good, and through hard work and more than a little patience, Max had planted himself where he’d never imagined he’d be. And now, he couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

                All the more reason to keep atoning for the past. He owed God, big-time, for that much grace.

                A horse nickered to his left, and he glanced over in time to see Stacy finishing up mucking Winston’s stall. He smiled at her, but her lips barely quirked in response. Uh-oh, someone was getting tired of manure. At least she withheld any sarcasm, which was a major improvement. He made a mental note to praise her for that in their next session together.

                To his right, he glimpsed Katie, whistling loudly as she groomed Max’s best quarter horse, Remington, not even looking up as he strode past. Of all his campers, so far Katie had shown the least improvement—because she’d started out so far ahead of them all. Her file had only vaguely explained she needed to get away from negative influences, but he had yet to determine what all they were. She’d clearly wanted to come, as evidenced by her personal statement in the paperwork, but he still felt as if he was missing a piece of her story. It couldn’t be anything that terrible, though, if she functioned so well at Camp Hope. He’d try to figure that out at their next One4One. As far as attitudes went, Katie won the award for Miss Congeniality.

                His stomach twinged in automatic response as he glimpsed Emma at the far end of the barn, leaning against Buttercup’s stall as she chatted with someone inside. Clearly she’d already met Dr. Peters. His step hitched as he drank in the sight of her. She looked good in his barn, though he’d already known that. Still, watching her stand there with arms loosely hanging over the door, one booted foot kicked up against the side, made her look as though she belonged. Once upon a time...

                He opened his mouth to call a greeting, give the ladies fair warning of his approach, but not before Rachel’s crystal clear voice rang from inside the stall.

                “He was still hung up on someone from his past.”

                Oh. No. Max hesitated, unsure whether to hurry up or slow down. Interrupting would be embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as if Rachel actually said—

                “Emma, I think was her name.”

                He should have hurried.

                Max came to a stop, his boots scuffing on the concrete floor. They couldn’t be discussing what he thought they were—could they? She and Emma had known each other all of, what, ten minutes? His chest tightened, and he drew a deep breath against it, trying to talk himself down. No big deal. Emma already knew he cared about her—at least a little, after that encounter in the kitchen last week. He’d hugged her in the middle of the night, for crying out loud, and told her he wished he’d have been there for her at her father’s funeral. But what Rachel said took it a little further.