Скачать книгу

      He stared. Coincidence, surely? The green highlighter grass and the lopsided red pen square he guessed was a barn, that could have come from anywhere, but a piebald paint horse? She’d only had markers to use, so a black-and-white horse wasn’t unexpected, was it? He doubted Hannah’s collection ran to shades of brown.

      But that didn’t change the fact that his own personal mount, the horse he rode most often at the ranch—and had ridden when Jolie and Emma had lived there—was a black-and-white pinto.

      “It does look like Flash, doesn’t it?” He hadn’t even realized Jolie had returned until she spoke, from barely two feet away. “I don’t think she could really remember, she was so young, but who knows? She’s a very bright girl.”

      Could she really still read him so easily? With an effort he managed to say evenly, “And not a half-bad artist. I was expecting stick figures.”

      “The lady helped a little,” Emma said honestly. “How their feet go.”

      Oddly T.C. felt relieved at this confirmation of his guess. “Not quite a child prodigy, then.”

      “Thank goodness,” Jolie said, echoing his relief, rattling him yet again. “Bright I can handle. Genius would be something else altogether.”

      “She’s...” He didn’t know what to say. Polite? Charming? Enchanting?

      “Yes,” Jolie said, proudly. “She is.”

      Emma picked up her drawing and looked at it with childlike satisfaction. “I was gonna draw the mean lady. Like the policeman wanted. But I don’t want to.”

      And just like that the elephant in the room trumpeted, and T.C.’s stomach knotted at the thought of this child in danger. He’d been able to dodge this when the child wasn’t right here in front of him, had been able to focus instead on her mother, and how much pain she’d caused. But now, with that sweet, innocent face right here, with those wide eyes, still trusting despite what had happened, the thought of something happening to her was more than he could take. Helplessness was not a feeling he was used to or tolerated well, and he’d had more than enough of it in the last few months.

      He might have lost his father and been unable to do anything about it, but he could do something about this.

      Telling himself he simply couldn’t leave a child—any child—in danger when he could help, he made a rare, snap decision.

      He stood up. “Come with me.”

      Jolie blinked, probably at the edge in his voice. “What?”

      “You asked for help.”

      “Yes, but—”

      “Don’t quibble now.”

      “Mommy?” Emma asked, very clearly uncertain.

      T.C. moderated his tone as he looked down at the girl, who was clutching the drawing in one hand, the other firmly in her mother’s grasp.

      “It’s all right, Emma,” he said gently; whatever his feelings about her mother were, no reason to frighten the child any more than she already was. “Would you like to see a real horse that looks like that?”

      He heard Jolie’s quick intake of breath but kept his eyes on the little girl, who suddenly smiled at him, a wide, dimpled smile that made him a different kind of helpless. And there she was for an instant, that tiny being who had once giggled at him with delight, filling him with emotions he hadn’t even had names for. The memories, the hopes, the plans for a future that included this child flooded his brain, and even the pain and anger of Jolie’s desertion couldn’t overwhelm it.

      Emma nodded enthusiastically, then looked at her mother. “Can we, Mommy? Please?”

      He lifted his gaze to Jolie. Found her staring at him.

      “It’s what you came for, isn’t it?” he asked.

      Slowly she nodded. “But I thought you...”

      Her voice trailed away, but not before he heard the doubt, and an echo of the fear he’d heard before. She’d known that five minutes ago his answer was no, that he would have let her go without a second thought, after what she’d done.

      All that had changed the moment a sunny, innocent little girl had plopped a childish drawing on the desk where he did work that helped shape this city.

      And he gave Jolie the one answer that trumped all the others.

      “For her,” he said softly.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABQAAD/4QQAaHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0i aHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1w PSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bWxuczpkYz0iaHR0cDovL3B1cmwub3Jn L2RjL2VsZW1lbnRzLzEuMS8iIHhtcE1NOk9yaWdpbmFsRG9jdW1lbnRJRD0ieG1wLmRpZDoxREJB MUI4OTgyMjA2ODExODIyQTlFNzYyNUZGM0VFOCIgeG1wTU06RG9jdW1lbnRJRD0ieG1wLmRpZDox N0Q3NjhBODgyNjkxMUU2ODRBM0YyNEU4MTM4QkVEQiIgeG1wTU06SW5zdGFuY2VJRD0ieG1wLmlp ZDoxN0Q3NjhBNzgyNjkxMUU2ODRBM0YyNEU4MTM4QkVEQiIgeG1wOkNyZWF0b3JUb29sPSJBZG9i ZSBQaG90b3Nob3AgQ1M1LjEgTWFjaW50b3NoIj4gPHhtcE1NOkRlcml2ZWRGcm9tIHN0UmVmOmlu c3RhbmNlSUQ9InhtcC5paWQ6MTU4NzUwMEFENDJFNjgxMThDMTREMUEzRkU4RjVDNUMiIHN0UmVm OmRvY3VtZW50SUQ9InhtcC5kaWQ6MTQ4NzUwMEFENDJFNjgxMThDMTREMUEzRkU4RjVDNUMiLz4g PGRjOnRpdGxlPiA8cmRmOkFsdD4gPHJkZjpsaSB4bWw6bGFuZz0ieC1kZWZhdWx0Ij5SZXNjdWVf MTAxNi5pbmRkPC9yZGY6bGk+IDwvcmRmOkFsdD4gPC9kYzp0aXRsZT4gPC9yZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRp b24+IDwvcmRmOlJERj4gPC94OnhtcG1ldGE+IDw/eHBhY2tldCBlbmQ9InIiPz7/7QBIUGhvdG9z aG9wIDMuMAA4QklNBAQAAAAAAA8cAVoAAxslRxwCAAACAAIAOEJJTQQlAAAAAAAQ/OEfici3yXgv NGI0B1h36//iCCRJQ0NfUFJPRklMRQABAQAACBRBREJFAkAAAG1udHJSR0IgWFlaIAfXAAMAAgAK AAcAKWFjc3AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABAAD21gABAAAAANMtYklDQ5xtNKWt pEX2FG2YsFEMEm0AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACWNwcnQAAAbEAAAAyWRl c2MAAAeQAAAAg3d0cHQAAADwAAAAFHJUUkMAAAEEAAAFhGdUUkMAAAEEAAAFhGJUUkMAAAEEAAAF hHJYWVoAAAaIAAAAFGdYWVoAAAacAAAAFGJYWVoAAAawAAAAFFhZWiAAAAAAAAD21gABAAAAANMt Y3VydgAAAAAAAAK8AAAACgAVAB8AKgA0AD4ASQBTAF0AaAByAH0AhwCRAJwApgCwALsAxQDQANoA 5ADvAPkBAwEOARgBIwEtATcBQgFMAVcBYQFrAXYBgAGKAZUBnwGqAbQBvgHJAdMB3QHoAfIB/QIH AhECHAImAjACOwJFAlACWgJlAnACewKGApECnAKoArMCvwLLAtcC4wLvAvwDCAMVAyIDLwM8A0kD VgNkA3IDfwONA5sDqgO4A8YD1QPkA/MEAgQRBCEEMARABFAEYARwBIAEkQShBLIEwwTUBOUE9wUI BRoFLAU+BVAFYwV1BYgFmwWuBcEF1QXoBfwGEAYkBjgGTQZhBnYGiwagBrUGywbgBvYHDAcjBzkH TwdmB30HlAesB8MH2wfzCAsIIwg7CFQIbQiGCJ8IuAjSCOwJBgkgCToJVQlvCYoJpQnBCdwJ+AoU CjAKTQppCoYKowrACt4K+wsZCzcLVQt0C5ILsQvQC/AMDwwvDE8MbwyPDLAM0QzyDRMNNQ1WDXgN mg29Dd8OAg4lDkkObA6QDrQO2A79DyEPRg9rD5EPtg/cEAIQKBBPEHYQnRDEEOwRExE7EWQRjBG1 Ed4SBxIxEloShBKuEtkTBBMvE1oThROxE90UCRQ2FGMUkBS9FOoVGBVGFXQVoxXSFgEWMBZgFpAW wBbwFyEXUh

Скачать книгу