the second brother asked, a note of what could be interpreted as accusation in his voice.
Jason didn’t take offense. After all, he was plenty protective of Shannon, even if she was a couple years older than him. He gestured with his thumb back over his shoulder toward the paddock.
“Had a rattler make a visit, scared the horse we were using with the kids. But everyone is fine and the snake is no longer a problem.”
The looks of concern on their faces eased.
“Diane tells me you’re staying for dinner,” Mr. Hartley said.
Mrs. Hartley must have called or texted her husband.
“She did invite me, sir. Thinking maybe I ought to head out though.”
“Oh, no. If you don’t stay now, she’ll think one of us ran you off and we’ll never hear the end of it.” A spark of humor lit the man’s eyes as he took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Jason glanced at the other Hartley men and sensed not exactly an acceptance but an easing of potential hostility.
Ben shrugged. “He’s not wrong. Plus, Mom is a great cook.”
“I could tell that already.”
“That was nothing.” Adam laughed a little as he gave what seemed like a meaningful look to his brothers. “She really goes all out when she’s trying to impress company.”
“She doesn’t have to go to the trouble. My meals usually come from a drive-through window.”
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Mr. Hartley said. “She’ll want to adopt you like she did this bunch.”
The slight nod toward his sons explained the obvious difference in heritage between Sloane and Angel. So all the Hartley siblings were adopted? Of course, it didn’t matter if they weren’t blood-related. Adopted siblings teased each other the same way he and Shannon did, the way Caleb and Lily were already doing even at their young age.
“Well, my mom might have something to say about that,” Jason said. “She’s kind of partial to me.”
At that moment, a van rolled up the driveway. As the driver parked next to Jason’s truck, the front door of the house opened and out came Sloane with the kids. The van must be their ride back to their homes. He wondered what they were going back to. He knew Daron’s situation but not those of the others. He glanced at sweet little Phoebe, Alice, all the other kids. Especially Brent, who even at this distance he could tell was already withdrawing again. Jason suddenly wanted to shield the kids from whatever hardships waited for them. He’d been lucky growing up, but he knew plenty of guys on the circuit who hadn’t been. He’d seen the results, too. The drinking, the divorces, the broken families.
Sure, there were also plenty of people who grew up in hard situations who overcame it and made something good of their lives. He just hoped these kids followed that path.
Phoebe broke away from the group, holding her little bouquet of flowers in a jar of water. When she got close, he saw how shiny her eyes were, filled with unshed tears.
“I wanted to say goodbye,” she said, looking up at him.
Jason sank to one knee. “I’m glad I got to meet you.”
Phoebe wrapped her arms around him, splashing a little water on his shirt. But he didn’t care about that. She could pour the whole jar down his back.
“I don’t want to leave,” she said, sniffling a little.
He wanted to reassure her, to tell her everything would be okay. But how could he do that when he didn’t even know what she was going back to?
“Hey, you became a cowgirl this weekend. Cowgirls are strong and can do whatever they set their minds to.” When she stepped back, he pointed toward Sloane and Angel. “You can grow up to be like them. Or maybe a barrel racer.”
“Then I could see you at rodeos.”
He couldn’t bring himself to tell her he’d be long retired before she was old enough to compete. “Maybe.”
Something made him hesitate while he was escorting her back to where the rest of the kids stood talking to Sloane, Angel, Julia and the van driver, a middle-aged woman he’d guess was some sort of caseworker. On impulse, he reached up and brought the leather thong necklace he wore over his head.
“You see this?” he said, indicating the little carved wooden horseshoe hanging from the leather. “It’s for good luck. I want you to have it.”
Her eyes widened as he put the necklace over her head. She lifted the little horseshoe to look at it. “Thank you.” And then she kissed him on the cheek and his heart melted.
“You’re welcome.” A glance at Sloane told him that it was time for Phoebe to go. He stood and offered her his hand. She put her much-smaller one in his and walked beside him back toward the others.
After saying several goodbyes to the kids, he noticed Brent hanging back and not speaking or making eye contact. It gave Jason a bad feeling in his stomach, a knot of concern wrapped in a layer of nausea.
“You okay, little man?” he asked Brent.
All the boy did was shrug. Jason experienced the strong urge to pick up the boy and keep him. Not only was that thought shocking but also totally unfeasible. Instead, he lowered himself to Brent’s level so he could make eye contact.
“You really impressed me this weekend. Remember all you learned here. I know you’re going to grow up and do great things. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different, okay?”
It was a weak one, but Brent did manage a nod. He looked toward the van then back at Jason. “I’m never going to see you again, am I?”
Jason felt as if he’d been sucker punched in the heart. How did Sloane go through this over and over?
“Never say never. Life has a funny way about it.” He wished he could tell the boy something more hopeful, more definite, but he wasn’t willing to outright lie to him.
As the kids climbed into the van and Angel helped the driver get everyone buckled in, Sloane came to stand next to him.
“This is the worst part of what you do, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I can’t fix everything though. I had to come to grips with the fact that I can only do this small part, give them some good memories.”
He got the impression she wasn’t as okay with not being able to do more as she claimed.
Part of him didn’t want to know, but a stronger part made him ask, “Phoebe and Brent, what are their stories?”
Next to him, Sloane sighed. “Both in foster care. Phoebe’s parents died in a car crash when she was two, and there weren’t any members of her family willing to take her. Brent...” Sloane paused, and Jason would swear he could hear the lump in her throat. “His mother was a drug addict. She overdosed and died in their house when he was four. By the time the police found him, he’d been in the house with his mom for three days.”
Jason cursed. The boy’s words about never seeing Jason again took on a new, horrible significance. No wonder the kid was quiet and withdrawn. How much did he remember about what he’d gone through? Did it haunt him?
“How do you do this, sending them back?”
“No choice. All I can do is give them a break from their lives.”
He shifted his gaze from the van to Sloane. “You do more than that. You show them that a different life is possible.”
Sloane looked shocked at his words. He was equally surprised she hadn’t come to that conclusion herself.
“You’re pretty damn amazing, Sloane Hartley.”
* * *
JASON’S