River at the Ranch (River's End #14) - Leanne Davis Page 0,2

At first, it seemed as foreign as the surface of the moon to his young mind. He came there after his great-grandmother died. She was his caregiver and the only family member left alive to raise him. He revered her and although she was quite old, dying at the ripe age of eighty-eight, she always did her best for him. Asher knew and appreciated that, even as a child. They subsisted on very little money, relying on her meager social security checks, welfare money, and the generous charity of others. His clothes all came from thrift stores and when he was old enough, he shopped at the local foodbank to feed the two of them. While other kids wore brand names, Asher didn’t even have access to the variety of food most grocery stores sold. But he knew his great-grandma tried her hardest and most of all, she loved him, even though she grew increasingly more forgetful and incapacitated during her final years.

He never told anyone about her fading health, of course. He couldn’t bear to be taken from her. He shuddered at the thought of living in foster care after hearing horror stories about group homes. His life, though modest, granted him plenty of peace, safety and loving care. Great-grandma adored him despite her deteriorating health, both physically and mentally, and she never stopped trying to care for and nurture him.

When she died, Asher ended up in the one place he hoped never to be: a group home. His case worker was a good guy who listened to him and soon found him a space with a couple who recently decided to foster a child. They actually preferred a child ten years or older. Asher fit the bill to a tee.

That was how he became AJ and Kate Reed’s foster child. AJ was a huge man that many mistook for a brute if they didn’t know him. Seeing his tall, muscled physique at their first introduction, Asher’s scrawny-ass kid’s mind didn’t know what to make of him. Terrified didn’t really cover it. Asher never had a father figure in his life before and AJ was a dad on steroids. A mild-mannered sort of man, AJ was exceptionally quiet, and he always used a low, kind tone. Mostly reserved with new people, but Asher in particular, AJ gave him tons of space. He let Asher find his own way to him, never pushing Asher to accept him. Despite his massive presence, AJ was quite shy and introspective. His physical being intimidated some strangers, preventing them from seeing his true soul. He was thoughtful and sensitive. As the years passed, Asher learned that AJ only spoke when he had something to say and when he did, it was worth listening to. AJ soon became his confidante, friend and dad, which never ended.

Kate was the polar opposite of AJ, as different as two people could be. Loud, confident, strong, and quite beautiful, she was in her sixties now. When Asher first met her, she became his champion at a time when he most needed one. Thirteen was a very confusing year for him. To wind up there, in a place so strange and unfamiliar, without the only person in his life he could ever count on was a painful experience. He missed his great-grandma so much, he often cried at night. Kate spent weeks that turned into months just talking to him about her. She asked about his memories of her and encouraged him to share them with her. They would sit together at the table and Kate would ask innocent questions until Asher finally relaxed long enough to talk. He wanted to tell her the answers but wondered how. His chest was knotted with grief and wrapped up in fear. Fear of the new residence, new people, new everything. Feeling uprooted without anyone whom he knew well enough to trust was a hard thing for him to latch onto.

Until he met these people.

They gave him the right combination of care, concern, support, and space, letting him decide the path and timeline to share and bond. They waited for him to tell them when he wanted to buy a new shirt or shoes for school. They provided him with all the basics and offered their help in school. But they also allowed him plenty of space, letting him reach out whenever he wanted more. At first, he refused to respond, disbelieving them. All the horror stories he’d heard of foster parents who