Hopeful Cowboy: A Mulbury Boys Novel (Hope Eternal Ranch Romance Book 1), Page 2

  “I haven’t finished my release programming,” Nate said.

  “Hope Eternal will finish it with you,” Greg said, his eyes actually softening as he spoke. “You’ll live there, with Connor, and work on the ranch. They’re a trusted partner, and they’ve taken several of our men over the years. You’ll be in very good hands there.”

  Nate felt as if someone had encased his body in tight cloth, mummifying him. He didn’t know what to say or do.

  No one had asked him if he wanted to be released and live at this Hope Eternal Ranch. No one had asked him—not even Ward—if he wanted to, or was even capable of, taking care of a four-year-old boy.

  “Okay,” Lawrence said from behind him. “She’s here.”

  The people in the room moved, and Nate twisted toward the door as they welcomed someone new. He couldn’t see them through the press of bodies, which only made his heart rate accelerate.

  Finally, the crowd parted, and the most beautiful woman Nate had ever set eyes on stood there. She wore a pair of jeans that seemed to go on and on—and on—as she easily stood close to his height and had legs that went for miles. She sported shiny, almost-copper-colored hair that fell to just below her shoulders. Her eyes could’ve been any color, because Nate couldn’t quite see them in the shadows of her cowgirl hat.

  She frowned at him, and then looked back at Lawrence. “Well? Does he speak? It’s been a long drive, and I’m already tired.”

  “Nate,” Greg said, helping Nate stand up. “This is Ginger Talbot. She runs Hope Eternal Ranch, and we’re releasing you to her care on Saturday.”

  Nate wasn’t sure if he’d hit the lottery or been condemned to death. By the growl in Ginger’s eyes and the way she folded her arms instead of extending her hand to shake his, Nate had enough mental capacity to think, I guess I did get the death penalty.

  He also had no idea how to be a father.

  And the pain over Ward’s death continued to radiate from deep within him, spiraling up and out until he was left bent over and gasping for air.

  Chapter Two

  Ginger Talbot knew her stance and her cold question made her seem like the Ice Queen. Perhaps she was. When it came to men like Nathaniel Mulbury, she had to be. She’d worked with several of them over the years.

  Because Hope Eternal Ranch was a completely female-run operation, she would only take prisoners in the RRC program that hadn’t been convicted of sex offenses.

  The man currently bent over in front of her, gasping for air, was a white-collar criminal. She read every case and every conviction before agreeing to house the prisoner on her ranch. Nathaniel had been caught up in investment fraud in the firm where he’d worked for three years before the ceiling had fallen on everyone, from the CEO on the top floor to the secretary just inside the door, at Isotope Investments.

  Her heart pounded in her chest at the sight of him still struggling to breathe. She’d been told not to touch him, but her kind, compassionate side urged Ginger to take the few steps toward him. She let her hands drop to her side, then she lifted one and placed it on Nathaniel’s shoulder at the same time the only other woman in the room said, “Nate, we’ve got a drink for you.”

  She took the plastic bottle of water from the man who’d gone to retrieve it, and she too joined Ginger at Nate’s side. She put her hand on his other bicep, the two women flanking him.

  “Come on now,” she said quietly. “You’re okay. You’ve been in here for fifteen hundred and eighty-one days.”

  Nate started to straighten, turning toward the other woman and not Ginger. She could see him in a cowboy hat, a pair of dark jeans, with cowboy boots on his feet. And he’d be even more handsome than he was now.

  Ginger strengthened the walls around her heart and mind. She let her hand drop from his shoulder, the absence of heat from his body instant and causing some sort of regret to pull through her. She frowned at herself and fell back a couple of steps.

  “Thank you, Ellen,” Nate said, his voice soft and quiet, yet possessing a power Ginger couldn’t name. “But it’s eighty-two days,” Nate said, taking the bottle. “Fifteen-eighty-two.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed the other woman’s face, and she too moved back.

  “Ginger,” Lawrence said, and she retreated all the way to his side. She knew him, because she’d been working with him for the past two days following the death of Ward Mulbury. She knew the Warden too, but he hadn’t moved from behind his desk yet.

  James Dickerson wasn’t a small man, nor one to keep silent. But he still hadn’t spoken. Ginger watched him, and it was clear the man was struggling with his own emotions. She looked at Nate again as he drank, and the picture before her cleared. These men and women here at the River Bay Federal Correctional Institution liked Nathaniel Mulbury.

  Nate’s gaze moved to hers, and the air in her lungs froze instantly. Several long seconds passed before the man who’d helped Nate stand stepped between them. “We’ll make sure he’s ready on Saturday, Miss Talbot.” He gestured for her to leave the room, because she still had plenty to talk about with his Unit Manager.

  Ginger held Nate’s gaze for another moment, a flash of a heartbeat, and then she stepped out the door Lawrence held for her. Down the hall in another room, she paced to the window and turned to face the two of them as they came inside behind her.

  “Ginger, this is Gregory Fellows. He’s Nate’s Unit Manager.” Lawrence indicated the other man, who wore a uniform suggesting his status inside the correctional facility.

  “Greg,” the man said, reaching to shake her hand. She gave one pump and looked back at Lawrence.

  “So?” the lawyer asked. “He’s acceptable for your program?”

  “Yes.” Ginger lifted her chin, wondering if anyone else that partnered with the BOP had such strict rules for who they’d take in. She told herself not to back down. She had to protect her friends and colleagues, as well as all the visitors that came to Hope Eternal.

  And yourself, she thought, hating that door that opened in her memory bank so easily. Ginger wasn’t the type of woman to make the same mistake twice, and just because Nate was good-looking and grateful for a bottle of water didn’t mean she’d allow herself to be anything but his parole officer for the next six months.

  She wouldn’t even have to do that. The Bureau of Prisons would send someone out every couple of weeks, and she could call at any time and have them come and get Nate if things simply didn’t work out.

  The image of the blond-haired boy paraded through her mind. Nate’s situation certainly was complex, and he’d been hit with three very large items in the space of five minutes. All at once, Ginger was glad she’d let her compassionate side step over to him and offer him a brief touch of comfort.

  She couldn’t even imagine how she’d react to one of her siblings passing away, and her heart leapt into the back of her throat.

  “I believe you wanted some insight to Nate,” Greg said, adjusting one of the chairs by the door. He sank into the hard-backed seat, a long sigh coming from his mouth. “He’s the best one in the wing—in the whole Unit. Probably out of any Unit here.”

  “Why isn’t he in the satellite camp then?” Lawrence asked. “That has even looser security than here.”

  Greg glanced at Lawrence and then Ginger. He swiped one hand through his nearly black hair, and all the exhaustion he felt showed plainly on his face. “He was in the satellite camp for a while. Nine months, maybe? Ten. But it’s crowded there, just like it is here, and we needed him to teach our business and finance classes.” He issued a long sigh. “So we asked him if he’d come back over to River Bay Low, and he agreed. He’s done two jobs here—he’s my office assistant, and he works part-time with our suicide watch team as well.”

  Surprise moved through Ginger. This Nathaniel Mulbury really was the best of the best. She’d never heard of an inmate working in the Unit office with the team.

  “With his good behavior,” Lawrence said, tapping on his phone. “We ha
ve him getting released in five months and twenty-two days.”

  “Probably earlier even,” Greg said. “He gets more days for every month of good behavior. He’s never been in trouble in all the time he’s been here. He has the least number of tickets out of any inmate currently in River Bay, through all security levels, and the ones he does have are for little things like not being in line on time, or dropping his shower shoes on the floor too loudly.” He looked back and forth between Lawrence and Ginger.

  “If he’s so great,” Ginger started. “Why couldn’t you get him out, Lawrence? Why does he have to finish the five months and twenty-two days at all?”

  His brother had died. Nate now had a child to raise.

  “The judge said other family members could take the boy,” Lawrence said. “She wouldn’t uphold the will to the point where Nate could just be released to his own care, the way he would’ve been in a few months. So our next best step was the Residential Reentry Center. This way, he’s out, but under supervision. He can take the child with him. And he can have a decent transitional period to work through…everything.”

  Ginger nodded, a strangely fierce determination moving through her that Nate would get exactly that. She’d help him get exactly that.

  “And the family is okay with that?” she asked.

  “His parents are getting up there in years,” Lawrence said. “The father has just been diagnosed with colon cancer, and no, Nate doesn’t know yet.” He sighed, and Ginger supposed even lawyers had a human side from time to time. “His sister is married with two kids under the age of four, neither of whom Nate has met.” He read from his phone, though surely he had these familial facts about his client memorized.

  “Her husband got in a motorcycle accident only six months after they got married, and he’s disabled and in a wheelchair. She cried and cried when she told me she couldn’t take Connor on too.” He looked up and shrugged. “It’s Nate or the foster care system.”

  “Nate will never let that happen,” Greg said. “Ward and Connor came to visit him all the time. He loves that boy.”

  Lawrence nodded. “Yes, I’ve heard. Which is why I petitioned the judge for RRC, and specifically at your ranch, Miss Talbot. It’s only a ten-minute drive from his parents and sister. Bethany—the sister—said she could make that drive to see her brother and her nephew. All agreeable with you, of course.”

  “Of course,” Ginger murmured. So many things ran through her head that she couldn’t grab onto any one thought and examine it. She drew in a deep breath. “Okay, so I’ll get the clothes on the request sheet, and I’ll be back here on Saturday morning to get him.” She looked between Greg and Lawrence. “Right?”

  “Yes,” Greg said, standing. “He’ll be in the Special Housing Unit, Administrative Detention.”

  “Why?” Ginger asked.

  “Because he’s in crisis right now,” Greg said. “And to lessen the questions and noise from the other prisoners. We put all inmates in Admin Detention during transfers or before hearings. That kind of thing. It’s not like detention at the principal’s office. He’s not in trouble. It’s to spare him trouble.” He reached for her hand again, and they shook. “I’ll be there to say good-bye to him as well. He’s been a good inmate here.” With that, he nodded and turned to leave the office.

  Ginger waited until the door closed and then she took his seat, combing her fingers through her own hair. “Is that all then?” she asked Lawrence.

  “That should do it,” he said. “Everything will be ready for you between now and then. You get the clothes. I’ll meet you here with the boy. And…that’s that.”

  That’s that.

  The words didn’t seem like enough for a man who’d lost his brother and was about to become a father, all within a few minutes. So much was changing, and not for her. She’d have another cowboy on the ranch, which she desperately needed.

  She seized onto the gratitude as it slipped through her veins and said, “Okay, then. I’ll be ready, and I’ll be here.” She stood and followed Greg out the door, her focus only on making it back to her truck safely.

  Once there, she allowed her mind to wander. Yes, she needed Nate’s help on the ranch. She’d just had a cowboy quit last week, and his appointment through the Residential Reentry Program was a huge blessing for her.

  “He’s sure handsome,” she muttered, her mood darkening. “And you’re not going to let him use that against you.”

  No, she was not.

  She could not.

  The last time she had, she’d nearly lost everything, and it was only by God’s grace that she’d managed to hold onto the ranch and her last shred of dignity.

  That’s that.

  With the decision made that Ginger would only speak to Nate if she absolutely had to, she made the drive back to Hope Eternal Ranch, the pure blackness that existed to her left threatening to claw at her very soul.

  The absence of light over the water of the Gulf sometimes brought her peace. Tonight, though, it only served to remind her of how far she’d come since she’d fallen in love with Hyrum Charles—an inmate from River Bay, just like Nate—and how far she could fall if she allowed something like that to happen again.

  Saturday morning, Ginger arrived back at River Bay with a small backpack. She’d gotten the requested clothes for Nate, as well as a couple of soft drinks, snacks, and a chocolate bar for both him and Connor.

  She’d taken prisoners back to Hope Eternal before, and she knew how much they liked chocolate. Apparently, it was very expensive inside prison, and while she knew Nate had worked in investment banking before his time at River Bay, she suspected he didn’t have a whole lot of money to be buying chocolate every week.

  Someone met her in the lobby and took her outside to a nearby building, this one much closer than the one she’d trekked to on Wednesday night. It was early still, with the sun barely lighting the sky. She’d left the ranch last night and made the three-hour drive to the town of River Bay, where she’d slept in a lumpy bed and gotten up before dawn.

  She smoothed down her hair, wishing it wasn’t quite so bright. Over the years, she’d tried to tame the coppery color with hair dye, but she’d given up and embraced the auburn locks she had. Thankfully, she wasn’t walking down the center aisle of a prison, with rows of inmates on both sides, leering at her through the bars.

  In fact, this building felt like an office building and nothing more. The guard who’d met her took her into a nondescript room, where Lawrence waited with Connor.

  Joy filled Ginger as the little boy spun in one of the chairs around the long, oval table. He had hair the color of cornsilk, and she wondered where that had come from. Nate had medium-to-dark brown hair, with blue eyes. So maybe there were some blond-haired, blue-eyed genes in his ancestral line.

  “You must be Connor,” she said, putting a wide smile on her face easily. Ginger had always loved children, even if she didn’t have any of her own.

  Connor looked at Lawrence, who nodded. He got down out of the chair and came toward her as he approached him. She crouched down several feet away and set the backpack on the ground. “Guess what I brought for you?”

  The little boy peered at the backpack, but he didn’t guess. She unzipped the top of it and reached inside slowly. “Did your daddy ever let you have…chocolate?” Ginger pulled the candy out of the bag and showed it to Connor.

  His face split into a smile, and he said, “Yes, ma’am. Daddy bought me chocolate.” His tiny, high-pitched voice tugged against her heartstrings, and he came all the way over to her and the pack.

  “I brought two now,” she said. “One for you.” She handed him one of the chocolate bars. “And one for your uncle Nate.”

  “Uncle Nate loves chocolate,” Connor said.

  Ginger grinned at him. “I’ll bet he does.” She handed the child the second bar. “So you hold it for him, and when he comes out, you can give it to him. Okay?”

  Connor took the candy but handed his back. He
didn’t have to ask for Ginger to know what he wanted. She got to work on ripping open the top of the package, and she gave it back to him. “It’s got squares, so you can just break off what you want.”

  “It’s the cookie kind.” The child looked at her with wonder in his clear, bright blue eyes. “I love these.” He broke off the top square and stuck it in his mouth.

  Ginger wondered where his mother was, but she hadn’t asked Lawrence. She straightened to do just that when the door in the back of the room opened.

  Nate walked inside, wearing his prison uniform and carrying a medium-sized bag. It was clear, and Ginger could see everything he owned right there in his hand. Her heart beat out a song of remorse for him too, because she had no idea what it was like to have her entire existence reduced to what she could carry in a single, see-through bag.

  “Uncle Nate!” Connor ran toward him, and Nate bent down to scoop the boy into his arms. He pressed his eyes closed as he hugged the little boy, and Ginger actually found herself getting emotional.

  Ridiculous, she told herself, bending to pick up the backpack and zip it closed. She shouldered it and then squared her body toward Nate so she’d look tall and imposing. She was tall for a woman, she knew that. But she’d have to gain at least fifty pounds to even start to appear on the cusp of imposing.

  Nate didn’t look her way anyway. He set Connor on his feet and stayed down at the boy’s level while they talked. Only when Connor gave him the chocolate and then turned to point at Ginger did Nate lift his eyes to hers.

  That same magnetic power that had clenched their gazes together a few days ago roared to life. Nate straightened and opened his chocolate, biting off the first square while he simply stared at her.