Page 37 of The Cowboy Comes Home

Well, that diversion will work.

He smiled as he thought it. How could he not when he saw how Jackson’s face lit up as he spun around to see Jeremy racing toward him. He’d seen it countless times now, but when the boy never wavered but ran full tilt, and with full faith, and Jackson swept the boy up into his arms in one practiced move, he felt that little twinge inside. All his happiness for these two seemed to be tinged with regret that it was likely he’d never know that kind of love. And he hated feeling like that. Wished he was a better man, good enough to simply be glad his friend had found such peace and joy again.

And then Nic was there, and his emotions shifted to gratitude that she hadn’t walked in on their conversation a few minutes ago. All she’d need to do was realize they’d been talking about Emily Stratton, and she’d be off and running. And he’d be dodging.

And then she hit him with it before he even said hello.

“Emily was there for Jeremy again,” Nic told Jackson. “She’s so sweet about looking out for him.”

“An’ we invited her and Lobo to come out and play,” Jeremy said enthusiastically.

Tucker blinked. Flicked a glance at Jackson, who gave him a “Don’t look at me, I didn’t do it,” look.

“Lobo ’n’ Mav will have lots of fun. We could go up to the pool, and they can play in the water.” He shifted his gaze to his father. “Can we, Dad?”

“As long as it’s not at the same time as we have a therapy session,” Jackson said, his voice very serious. “You’re the ambassador forThorpe’s Therapy Horses, after all.”

“What’s a ’bassador?”

“It means,” Nic said at the boy, grinning as she reached out and teasingly tweaked his nose, “that you’re the front man, the one everyone comes to see and talk to.”

“Nah, that’s Dad. He’s the famous one.” Jeremy looked over at Tucker. “Him and Uncle T.”

Tucker swallowed hard before he said, “But you’re the one who can show them it all works, that the horses will help them. That’s the most important thing, for those kids who feel like you felt.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened in understanding, and Tucker knew he’d somehow found the right words.

“Oh,” the boy said. “I better be here then.”

“Yep, you’d better,” Jackson said, but his gaze was on Tucker, sending a silent thank you.

“But now I gotta go see Maverick,” he said, squirming to get down. “I want to tell him Lobo’s gonna come.”

“Yes, you do,” Nic agreed as Jackson set the boy down. “I’m sure he’s missed you. He always mopes around until you get home.”

The boy looked worried then. “I better run.”

“You do that,” Jackson said with a laugh, but the boy was already racing toward the barn.

“That was nicely put,” Nic said, and Tucker was surprised to see she was looking at him.

“It was,” Jackson confirmed. “You made him feel really good.”

Tucker shrugs. “He makes me feel good.”

He meant it, he realized, in a rather new-to-him way. Because he felt as if he were a part of something that had a deeper meaning. It wasn’t the roar of the Sunday crowd at a rodeo, it wasn’t the raging success of a TV show, this was real, down to the bone, sometimes painfully real. He was helping to help kids going through hell.

A hell he was all too familiar with.

Chapter Eighteen

Emily suppressed ashiver, an odd occurrence in July in Texas. But she couldn’t help it. She looked down at the table again, whereThe Defenderwas spread out next to the abandoned pasta salad she no longer had the appetite for.

She felt a nudge at her knee, and looked down to find Lobo staring up at her as if he was worried. As if he’d sensed her upset and come to offer comfort. She shook her head in amazement.

“You really are something, dog,” she said lovingly, stroking the dog’s head. “Chance told me—or maybe warned me—you could read people, but he didn’t mention that included mind reading.”

The dog made a low, almost humming sound in his throat as she scratched behind his ears in that spot she knew he loved.

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