He’d spent plenty of time on his bed, reading complicated legal documents. But not in the middle of the night, and not minutes after he’d been told his brother and oldest friend had died. Ward took care of everything—he took care of Nate—and Nate didn’t know how to keep breathing.
“No,” he said, staring at the black letters on white paper.
“Well, he did,” Gregory said kindly. He guided Nate to a chair in front of the Warden’s desk. “And Nate, your lawyer has petitioned for your release date to be Saturday, the day of the funeral. Then you can be there with your family and with Connor, and the two of you will be able to…start a life.”
Nate gripped the edges of the paper, his eyes unseeing. Start a life. What a joke. He couldn’t start life again.
“Since you’re still six months out from your parole hearing, we’ve made arrangements for you and Connor.” Greg placed another folder in Nate’s hands. “It’s not precedent, but this is an extenuating circumstance.”
“The judge signed the order, Mister Fellows,” Lawrence said.
“I’m aware,” Greg bit out. He sat in the chair next to Nate’s, and their eyes met. “You’ll be released on Saturday, Nate. But not to just wander in the world. You’re being assigned to Hope Eternal Ranch, one of our Residential Reentry Centers. You’ll finish your sentence there for the next six months.”
“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?”