And her mother...Emma paused, her fingers knotted in Remington’s mane. Her garden-side revelation had brought more regret than relief, though it was sort of freeing to know a living soul finally knew her dirty little secret.
Slowly, she unclenched the strands of horse hair and resumed her brushing, stomach knotting instead. Her mom had taken the news a little better than Emma had suspected. But her words lingered.
Broken Bend’s bad boy transitioned into a solid, God-fearing man, Emma. If you’d told me the truth from the beginning, I could have let you know that.
After Emma’s immediate defense, which went over her mom’s head as usual, more words left a permanent mark.
It could have been different, Emma. So much different. For all of you.
The weight of those words latched on to her shoulders and clung for dear life. She might as well name the baggage she’d just acquired, because it wasn’t going anywhere.
Her mother was right in one regard. But in another, she still didn’t understand. No one did. And unless they had been pregnant, rejected and alone, watching the man who promised that his love for her transcended any addiction live out his lie in neon color, well—they never would.
Besides, who was to say that it wasn’t intentional? If she’d stuck around that day she caught Max in the middle of a deal, would he still have eventually changed and devoted his life to helping others? Or would she somehow have derailed God’s plan even further?
Regardless, whatever Max had become didn’t change what he’d been.
She dropped the brush in the grooming bucket she’d snagged from the tack room and rubbed Remington’s neck. “Don’t count on this behavior from me regularly.” Weird that she wasn’t already craving a hot stone massage treatment by now, one of her more frequent rewards for her stressful career in Dallas. Maybe there was something to be said for open skies and fresh air, after all.
Now, if only it’d work on Cody.
Remington snuffled the hand she held in front of his nose, and she grimaced at the soft, wet horse skin. “It’ll take more than that to convince me, you know.”
“Convince you of what?” Max appeared in front of the stall door, and Emma jumped. A petite blonde stood beside him, wearing a T-shirt with the fire department logo blazoned across the front.
Emma stepped away from Remington, his head bobbing at her abrupt movements. “Nothing.” She tried to smile and pretend like she wasn’t caught talking to a horse, though with Max’s lifestyle now he probably wouldn’t have thought twice. But who was his friend, and what would she think? “Just waiting on the girls to get here.”
“You might want to go check on them.” Max frowned, glancing at his watch. “Breakfast was cleared away fifteen minutes ago, and they’re supposed to come straight out here for chores.”
“Maybe they needed a bathroom break.” Emma started to open the stall door, and Max stepped back to give her room.
“This is Caley, by the way. Brady’s wife.”
Caley held out her hand, her grip warm and solid. “Nice to meet you. I’ve—” She swallowed the rest of her sentence and finished with a smile, instead. But the unspoken words lingered. I’ve heard a lot about you.
Emma still wasn’t sure how they made her feel, but the dividing line teetered more toward good than bad, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that, either.