Page 6 of Operation: Chosen

1. Faith. How dare he try to make people who came to stay here have faith? She’d looked up the ranch with the resources she’d had back in her office. While she couldn’t tell exactly what they did, they had guests that were paid for by the government, and church and government money had no business being together.

She strode to the plaque, took it down, and tossed it in the back of the closet. No one was going to force their faith on her. No one was going to get her to believe there was one God or anything else out there that supposedly cared. Not when children could be treated like she had been. No God who cared would allow that.

If she dwelled on her past too long, she wouldn’t be able to focus on the real reason she was here, which was helping Cole decide if he wanted to keep his new name and have it legally changed and connected to his old information, or if he wanted to go back to his given name. She dug in her briefcase and tugged out a pink legal pad and blue pen, then settled into one of the overstuffed chairs in the living room area.

As much as she wanted to focus on Cole, he wasn’t there, and there was little she could do without knowing his plans. This left her thinking about the secondary reason she had come to Wayside: Eric. The moment Connor had mentioned Eric was there, she had been on board with coming. She hadn’t even cared about the location. Now she wished she had.

Nothing she’d brought had really been appropriate for a ranch. There was no way she could dress as she normally did out here. If she did, she’d stick out. The only time she liked to be a spectacle was in the courtroom, and only in the most positive way. She wore her uniform dress when it was required but had always pushed the envelope, making herself the star in the courtroom. She’d won many cases just by being the more memorable of the two lawyers.

She wasn’t fighting a team of litigators now, though. Only Eric and his memories. She just had to reframe the whole situation for him. He had to believe that they went through those times for a purpose, and there was no reason they couldn’t start over. Just seeing him had made her lose her cool, and every word had flown from her head, which was a pretty amazing feat because she was never speechless.

“This shouldn’t be that hard,” she told herself. But as she stared down at the pristine pink page, waiting for ideas to come, she realized it might not be that easy. More than twenty years separated this moment from the one that had divided them. A lot could happen in that time. How was she going to convince him they were even the same people as they were so long ago? Because she certainly wasn’t.

Someone knocked on her door, and Ali pushed herself from the plush chair and answered it. A blonde-haired woman who had to be close to her age waited outside. She gave an easy smile that was genuine and thrust her hand toward Ali.

“Welcome! I’m Lacy Kincade. I can help you get started with Cole Bradley’s information whenever you want to get started. He left a few things for me so your time wouldn’t be totally wasted.”

“Oh…” Ali wasn’t sure what to say. She’d already pushed aside that task. “I’d just gotten out my notebook to write down some notes. You have impeccable timing.” She motioned for Lacy to come in.

Lacy sat in the other stuffed chair and laid a folder on the table between them. “Are you settling in? Do you need anything?”

Ali laughed. “Do you have any of these cabins that are about three times this size?”

Lacy’s eyes widened, and she snorted. “We do, but we didn’t figure you’d want to be in the cabin right next to the three boys who just came. The only other large cabins we have are Gabby and Junior’s and Cole and Erica’s.”

She hadn’t realized Cole wasn’t the only married man at Wayside. “Oh, do you have families staying here?” She was pretty sure that wasn’t mentioned on the government paperwork she’d read.

“Just those two for now, but I think both will be moving in the spring. Connor just acquired the ranch next door. It needs a lot of work first, but that will be the perfect place for families to live. The men can be within riding distance, but the wives won’t need to be right here. Things aren’t always pretty, or safe, when dealing with what we do.”

“And what is that?” Ali hated when people weren’t up front with her. She wanted truth, plain and simple.

“Wayside is a place for healing. We don’t have our usual guests staying here now, which is why those three boys are here, but I hope we return to our mission soon.”

Ali’s gut twisted. Connor was taking vulnerable people who needed healing and encouragement, and shoving fake promises of faith down their throats. When she returned to her office, she would have to do a write-up of Wayside.

Lacy glanced at the wall at the open spot over Ali’s shoulder where the plaque had been. Mentally, Ali dared Lacy to ask her why it was gone. Lacy stood and brushed her hands down the front of her jeans, suddenly looking a lot less welcoming. “Well, that paperwork doesn’t answer everything, but it should give you a start. Let me know if you need anything.” Lacy headed for the door.

Ali didn’t bother to walk her to the door. Lacy could think what she liked. She returned her focus to the folder for a moment, running over all the facts she knew. What had Eric gotten himself into, and how could she report what she knew without destroying him again?

ChapterThree

Eric took the stiff brush used for cleaning hooves to his speckled silver mare, Skyfall. He’d been focusing on training their newest acquisition and hadn’t done the job in a while. Her hooves were caked with what amounted to cement, though she seemed to know she would be more comfortable when the task was done, because she didn’t move except to lean against him for the first two.

Connor made his way toward Eric, adjusting his hat as he strode through the darkened barn. “Morning.”

Eric chuckled as he glanced at his watch. “Yup, barely.” He’d already checked on the boys that morning and found them all lying around in their beds watching television. None of them had any interest in riding. The only chore they’d completed was wiping out the sink, though he couldn’t tell if they’d done it or just hadn’t used it. He’d left feeling like this was a waste of his time. Yes, the boys had freedom, but if being here wasn’t going to help them in the long run, then it wasn’t what they needed.

“I wanted to come talk to you before lunch.” Connor spaced his feet wider apart and planted his hands at his waist. His right shoulder still didn’t rest evenly with his left after getting shot a few months ago.

“I’ve got all the time in the world.” Eric kept his sarcasm to a minimum. Connor wouldn’t understand just how angry Eric was that he’d invited Ali. He should’ve been given a choice. Just because she was there didn’t mean he had any intention of giving her his time. He had better things to do than relive a bad past.

“Any sign of those boys this morning?” Connor asked.

Eric snorted. “I went in there. Want me to hire someone to play reveille? Thatmightget them out of their rooms.”

“I expect the noon hour will get them moving. They didn’t even bother to show up for breakfast. Odd, for boys. Don’t you think?”

Eric thought it was strange that they hadn’t asked for trays of food while he was there. No one liked to deliver trays to the cabins, preferring for the guests to come and get a small amount of socialization that mimicked a restaurant as far as noise, people, and what was happening. But they would’ve provided food if the boys had asked.

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