The Cowboy's Baby Blessing. Deb Kastner

he continued, forcing the corners of his mouth to curve upward, if only barely, for Rachel’s sake, “in other news, I am now the awesome godfather of the cutest baby ever, Luke and Tracy’s two-year-old son, Caden. And thanks to my sister and brother-in-law, I’m also the proud uncle of an adorable seven-year-old niece and a feisty pair of twins—one boy and one girl. Samantha and Will’s kiddos keep them good and busy.”

      “So you’re the fun uncle, huh?”

      He flashed his most charming smile. “Exactly. And that’s how I intend to keep things.”

      “Chief tickler and bogeyman storyteller. The children will look forward to you coming home to visit when you’re on breaks at school or the football season is over.”

      Considering how little they knew of each other, Rachel had just nailed it.

      That was the man he wanted to be. The fun uncle who could come and go as he pleased. He was happy to have found someone who seemed to understand where he was at in his life—and why he would soon be leaving town for greener pastures.

       Chapter Two

      Sunday was usually Rachel’s favorite day of the week. It was the only day out of seven that she allowed herself the opportunity to worship, relax and just be, after a frantically busy week filled to the brim with toddlers followed by a Saturday crammed with a week’s worth of leftover chores and errands.

      After Sunday services, she could read or binge on a television series or just nap, which was her favorite way to spend a quiet Sunday afternoon. But today her usual sense of peace had been replaced by a nagging sense of worry.

      This morning, she’d watched for Seth at the small church that was home to Serendipity’s community of faith. On the day of the auction, they’d agreed to meet after the Sunday service to go over the specific details of when and how he’d work off her auction win, but he hadn’t shown up. In fact, none of the Howells had been present, which was unusual, since Seth’s parents—Samuel and Amanda—along with Will and Samantha Davenport and their brood usually took up an entire pew.

      She’d have to make time to seek Seth out sometime during the week, as soon as possible. Or maybe she could get his cell number from Samantha. She needed the work done without delay. Her day-care recertification was close on the horizon, and from what she’d heard, many of her friends’ in-home day cares were failing in favor of corporate-run day cares because of tightening restrictions.

      She couldn’t afford to fail.

      Her business was her lifeline—hers and Zooey’s. She couldn’t even imagine what she’d do if she lost the ability to take care of the children. It was the only job she’d ever had, the one thing she felt capable of and qualified for.

      Rachel didn’t regret having Zooey, not for one second, but it had put a halt on her college plans and the dreams she’d had for her future. She’d intended to pursue a degree in early childhood education and get her teaching degree.

      She’d adapted those dreams into running an in-home day care. Maybe she didn’t have the degree behind her name, but she knew she was a good teacher, and the best part of her day was sitting with the kids, reading to them and teaching them letters and numbers.

      Every so often she had to pass a government inspection like the one that was coming up in a few weeks. She kept her day care strictly by the code, but the inspectors were becoming more nitpicky.

      She had to keep hold of this job, not only because she loved it, but because it paid her bills and she was able to save a little toward her daughter’s future.

      Zooey came first, and she always would. And that was tied to the other frustration in her life—that her daughter, whom she loved more than anything, was pulling away from her. And the situation kept getting worse.

      This morning, Zooey had once again pleaded that she was too sick to go to church, when the truth was she was just trying to get out of going to the Sunday service. It had been happening far too often lately. Usually, Rachel insisted that her daughter accompany her, but she was beyond tired of arguing all the time, so this Sunday she’d given in and allowed Zooey to stay home and sleep in.

      As soon as Rachel had walked through the doors of the church, guilt had crushed her. She was the parent in this situation. She needed to be the strong one, no matter how hard Zooey pushed back. She should have required that Zooey come with her—no matter what her flimsy excuses might be.

      She wouldn’t let it happen again. It didn’t matter how tired Rachel was or how much stress she was under, she couldn’t shirk her responsibility as a parent. As long as her daughter lived under her roof and ate her food, she was going to go to church on Sundays.

      Period.

      It wasn’t a huge shock to Rachel when she walked in the front door of her modest two-bedroom house and found her daughter playing a video game and talking to someone through her headset. Unfortunately, Rachel had expected it. Zooey didn’t even look up—not until Rachel loomed over her with her arms akimbo and a frown on her face.

      At least Myst, a black cat with the most extraordinary emerald-green eyes, appeared happy to see her. He threaded in and out of her legs as she stood waiting for Zooey to acknowledge her, his purr sounding like a truck engine.

      “I thought you were too sick to go to church,” Rachel reprimanded. “And you know you’re not allowed to play video games on Sunday.”

      Even though their family unit was small, Rachel had always tried to make it clear that family time was a priority. In particular, she went out of her way to make Sundays special, a quiet time to spend with her daughter away from the technology that so often drew them apart. She stayed off her phone and computer and she expected Zooey to do the same.

      “Sorry, James. I have to go,” Zooey said into the headset. “My mom’s bugging me.”

      Rachel stood silently as her daughter turned off her video game, unsure of which part of Zooey’s statement she should address first.

      The teenager’s disrespectful words and behavior or the boy?

      “Who is James?” She forced herself to remain calm and not sound accusatory.

      “He’s just a guy, Mom.” She used to know all of Zooey’s friends. Though Rachel treasured the time she could spend one-on-one with her little girl, she had always been pleased to welcome any friend who wanted to come over for dinner or join them while they went shopping or to the movies. She’d willingly hosted birthday parties and slumber parties and had enjoyed seeing her happy, social daughter having fun with her friends.

      It was only in the past year or so that Zooey had become more secretive over what went on in her life. Her longtime friends rarely came over anymore—she seemed to have taken up with a new crowd that Rachel hadn’t met. Meanwhile, her grades had dropped to the point where she had to attend summer school. If Zooey had legitimately had problems with a subject, Rachel would have understood, but Zooey had simply not turned in assignments and, worse, had cut class on more than one occasion.

      Though Rachel didn’t like to judge, she was responsible for Zooey’s safety, and in her opinion, some of her daughter’s current friends were questionable at best.

      That was what had Rachel worried. She’d raised Zooey to be street-smart as well as book-smart, but she was only sixteen and, whether she wanted to admit it or not, was innocent and vulnerable. Those traits left a girl open to all sorts of predators wanting to take advantage, as Rachel knew all too well.

      After all, Rachel’s life had drastically changed when she was sixteen. She wanted so much more for her own daughter.

      “And how do you know this James?” Rachel knew her suspicion was creeping out in her tone. She had heard too many horror stories about creepy men stalking girls online not to worry or to ask questions. She wasn’t exactly sure how the game console worked, but she