Книга - The Rancher’s Texas Match

The Rancher's Texas Match
Brenda Minton


A Rancher's MissionAs a volunteer at the Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch, Tanner Barstow helps the troubled young residents turn their lives around. When a local rancher dies and leaves his large property to the boys ranch, Tanner finds himself spending a lot of time with Macy Swanson, whose orphaned nephew, Colby, lives at the ranch. Tanner's attracted to the newcomer, but she doesn't fit his plans. Macy longs to have Colby come home with her, but the former city girl worries she won't be the mother he deserves. Can Tanner help her see that the future she and Colby need is right here—with him?







A Rancher’s Mission

As a volunteer at the Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch, Tanner Barstow helps the troubled young residents turn their lives around. When a local rancher dies and leaves his large property to the boys ranch, Tanner finds himself spending a lot of time with Macy Swanson, whose orphaned nephew, Colby, lives at the ranch. Tanner’s attracted to the newcomer, but she doesn’t fit his plans. Macy longs to have Colby come home with her, but the former city girl worries she won’t be the mother he deserves. Can Tanner help her see that the future she and Colby need is right here—with him?


Tears were streaming down Macy’s cheeks.

She wasn’t his problem, Tanner reminded himself. But for the life of him, he couldn’t walk away from her.

“I want to fix this all for Colby and I can’t,” she said. “He’s only seven. I have to find a way to help him get past his grief and his anger.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m mad because I don’t know what to do for Colby.” Her eyes closed and she shook her head.

“Macy?” he asked gently. He needed to let her continue, to talk it out.

“There are days I wonder if Colby would be better off with someone else, with anyone but me. But I’m his family. We have each other.”

“Yes,” he said, “and in the end, that matters.”

“But what if I’m not a mom? What if I can’t do this?” She looked young standing there next to him, her green eyes troubled.

He had to say just the right thing.

* * *

Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch

Bighearted ranchers in small-town Texas

The Rancher’s Texas Match by Brenda Minton,

October 2016

The Ranger’s Texas Proposal by Jessica Keller,

November 2016

The Nanny’s Texas Christmas by Lee Tobin McClain,

December 2016

The Cowboy’s Texas Family by Margaret Daley,

January 2017

The Doctor’s Texas Baby by Deb Kastner,

February 2017

The Rancher’s Texas Twins by Allie Pleiter,

March 2017


BRENDA MINTON lives in the Ozarks with her husband, children, cats, dogs and strays. She is a pastor’s wife, Sunday school teacher, coffee addict and sleep deprived. Not in that order. Her dream to be an author for Harlequin started somewhere in the pages of a romance novel about a young American woman stranded in a Spanish castle. Her dreams came true, and twenty-plus books later, she is an author hoping to inspire young girls to dream.


The Rancher’s Texas Match

Brenda Minton






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to allow the world to corrupt you.

—James 1:27


Dedicated to the workers who tirelessly serve, helping children and families in need.


Special thanks and acknowledgment to Brenda Minton for her contribution to the Lone Star Cowboy League: Boys Ranch miniseries.


Contents

Cover (#u7c4b56ff-f3e4-5828-a487-0bf644023817)

Back Cover Text (#u09223285-2b2a-5918-ae4f-3dcf2257ee58)

Introduction (#ucd1f2012-c6cf-54a4-9a78-af7560051916)

About the Author (#u7255a451-7a66-5a5a-9e5c-c48de8fb32e7)

Title Page (#u4c707ee8-5281-50b2-8e1d-a8dcda5042f0)

Bible Verse (#u7a382a19-ef68-5bc3-8e8f-c2354392d80a)

Dedication (#u35987b81-d598-53e2-91cf-5a883900183c)

Acknowledgments (#ua7a4f96b-811a-56d0-a193-b55cc952642e)

Chapter One (#ua2d064b8-fbb1-5b59-8551-d924908f8a03)

Chapter Two (#u968fb012-936d-5d4a-bc57-5a31eb595a70)

Chapter Three (#ud8732a54-4a51-5f1a-af49-dfe15dfeffff)

Chapter Four (#u0c928150-abef-5cef-ac86-3bf4d8d02e4b)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_150cbd4c-003a-52b6-adcc-0be519747e30)

The Silver Star ranch was one of the prettiest, most peaceful places Macy Swanson had ever experienced, from the stately oaks that lined the fenced drive, to the white-sided, two-story home. Behind the home was a red barn. In the background were the three cabins that made up the Lone Star Cowboy League Boys Ranch.

The Silver Star, on first glance, looked as if it might be a family ranch. On second glance, a person noticed the boys. From ages six to seventeen they were the reason the ranch existed in its current state and the reason she had come there. Because one of those boys was hers. Her nephew, Colby.

As she parked under the shade of a twisted old oak tree, she caught the tears before they could fall. She took a deep breath, to let go of the pain, the grief. The guilt. It took more than one breath. It took several. It took a swipe of her finger under her eyes to brush away the evidence. Even now, at the first of October and almost a year since the accident that had taken her brother and sister-in-law, the grief still sneaked up on her.

She missed her brother, Grant. She missed Cynthia, his wife. They should have been here, raising their son. Instead she was the one trying to fill their shoes after the crash that ended their lives. She was the one trying to put the pieces back together for Colby, only seven and still angry and hurt that his parents weren’t coming back.

The guilt sometimes outweighed the grief because she didn’t know how to help her nephew. She had always wanted children. Now she doubted she knew how to be a mom. After all, she didn’t seem able to fix this one hurting little boy.

Someone tapped on her car window. She jumped a little, moving her hand to the steering wheel and managing to smile up at the man looking in at her.

Tanner Barstow. Wonderful. The rancher and volunteer at the boys ranch stepped back from the door as she pushed it open. He’d posed as Mr. January for the calendar the community put out as a fund-raiser for the ranch. The Cowboys of McLennan County calendar had been a hit, she’d been told. She had a copy hanging in her kitchen. It had been there when she moved in last winter, after the accident.

Her life had become segmented, broken in two distinct halves. Before the accident. After the accident.

Before the accident she’d been engaged to Bill, an attorney in Dallas. She’d been a librarian, managing several libraries in the Dallas metro area.

After the accident... She was still trying to find the person she was after the accident. She now lived in Haven, where she was a librarian at the local library, a substitute teacher at the high school and a volunteer at the Silver Star. Most important, she was the aunt of Colby, determined to find a way to make that little boy smile.

“Are you okay?” Tanner asked as she stepped out of her car.

He was a full head taller than her five-feet-eight inches. He was rangy, lean and powerful. His jeans rode low on his hips. The button-up shirt tugged at his shoulders. His dark chestnut hair was wavy, and she could tell that when it curled, it bothered him. Maybe because he couldn’t control it. He seemed to be a man who liked control. Dark blue eyes caught her attention. He was giving her a skeptical look, as if he was positive she couldn’t be okay.

And maybe she wasn’t. Maybe she was so far out of her depth here in this small town that she didn’t know if she would sink or swim. Mostly, she felt as if she was sinking.

“I’m good.” She cleared her throat and gave him a smile that wavered; she felt it tremble a little.

“It’s going to get better. Give him time. Give yourself time.” He said it like he meant it. She nodded and closed her eyes, against the brightness of the sun and against the pitying look he was giving her.

“I know,” she finally answered, and she thought it sounded as if she meant it or believed it. She added a hopeful smile for punctuation.

“Come, watch him ride. We’re in the arena today. He’s doing great.”

His hand brushed her back to guide her in that direction. The touch was brief, but the comfort of the gesture couldn’t be denied. She could really use a friend. She could use a hug. She shook off that thought as one that went too far. After all, she’d made friends in Haven, through work and through the Haven Community Church. She wasn’t alone. Not completely.

But the idea of a hug wasn’t wholly without merit. What would Tanner Barstow, vice president of the local Lone Star Cowboy League, self-made rancher and horse trainer extraordinaire, do if she asked him for a hug? He’d probably do the man-hug, quick and from the side, and then head for the hills.

Movement in the arena caught her attention. She watched as the boys, all younger, rode around the enclosure. They kept their horses in an easy lope, right hands on the reins, left hands at their sides.

“What are they doing?” she asked as they walked in that direction.

They stopped a few feet from the white, wood fence of the arena. She kept her attention focused on Colby. He was such a tiny little guy, with his mom’s dark hair and his dad’s green eyes. The ranch hand in the arena called all the boys to the center. A young teen stood next to him. The boys rode their horses and lined up so that boys and animals were facing the ranch hand.

“They’re practicing showmanship, for Western pleasure classes at local events. It takes control for the horses, and for the boys.”

“This is such a great place. I’m so glad it was here for Colby. I don’t know what we would have done.”

He nodded, acknowledging the comment. His gaze remained on the boys and the men working with them. “It’s the best. It was truly inspired. When Luella Snowden Phillips started this ranch, she probably didn’t realize how long-lasting and far-reaching the ministry would be. But it’s been here for seven decades. I just wish we had more room and could take more boys.”

“They were praying about that at church last Sunday,” she offered. “Someone mentioned that boys had been turned away. And wouldn’t it be an amazing thing if no child was ever turned away from this program?”

“That would be amazing.” He walked away from her, moving a little closer to the fence. “I heard Colby had a hard time last weekend.”

He shifted, settling his gaze on her just momentarily before turning his attention back to the boys in the arena.

Was that an accusation? Or was she just being unduly sensitive? Colby had been allowed a twenty-four-hour pass to go home with her. She’d had to bring him back to the ranch early.

“It’s hard for him to be at home. I keep thinking that it will get easier, that he’ll want to be there.”

“Don’t give up.” He stepped away from her, heading toward the gate. “If you’ll excuse me.”

She nodded as he walked away. From the arena someone shouted. She saw the ranch hand who was working with the boys move quickly. As she watched, the boys dismounted and started tugging their horses away from the center of the arena. Tanner was through the gate, leaving it open in the process.

“Close that,” he called back to her.

She reached the gate and closed it as she went through. The boy at the center of the ruckus was yelling at Jake, the ranch hand who’d been instructing them. The other boys, most of them under ten, were backing away as Tanner hurried to help. It looked like chaos about to be unleashed. The teenager who’d been helping was trying to get control of the nearly half dozen boys left to fend for themselves as the adults focused on the one youngster who was causing the problems.

The boy at the center of the trouble had hold of his horse and was backing away from the two men. The horse, wild-eyed and jerking to be free, kept moving. The boy held tight to the reins.

Colby hurried toward her, dragging his horse along with him. He had tears in his eyes. His friends didn’t look much better.

“Hey, guys. Let’s see if we can get these horses in the barn. We’ll put them in stalls.” She looked to the teen helper for guidance. “You’re Ben, right? Do the horses go in stalls?”

He grinned, showing crooked teeth but a charming dimple. His hair was light brown, and his eyes were warm hazel. “Yes, ma’am. I can put the horses in the stalls.”

“Why don’t we do that?” She looked at the group of boys surrounding her. Big eyes, sweet smiles. She glanced back in time to see that Tanner had hold of the poor horse being dragged about the arena.

“Come on, guys, let’s see if we can have fun.” She clasped her hands together as she stared at the expectant faces.

Colby didn’t look convinced.

“Colby, what story do you like the best?” she asked.

That got his attention. That was their common ground. Stories.

“The one with the dragon slayer,” he said as he reached for her hand, his other hand holding the reins of his pony.

“The dragon slayer it is.” She only hoped she could remember the story she’d made up on a Saturday night when neither of them could sleep. She smiled down at her nephew. If she couldn’t remember, he would help.

In the background she heard a young voice raised in anger. Or hurt. A calm, reassuring voice spoke; the words were lost, but the tone carried the meaning.

Macy felt that reassurance, even though it wasn’t meant for her.

* * *

“The dragon slayer knelt in prayer, knowing his kingdom would stand forever and that it was a greater power than his own that kept them safe from the evil...”

Tanner stood just outside the open barn doors, unwilling to go in and interrupt. He’d taken Sam Clark back to the cabin where he lived and to the house parents, Eleanor and Edward Mack, who would make sure he was safe until he could regain control of his behavior.

The eleven-year-old had been at the ranch for six months. He was a good kid who had seen the bad side of life. The result was a lot of anger. Edward and Eleanor could handle it; with degrees in counseling, and their involvement in the local church, they were experts on the kids at the ranch.

Kids wanted people to connect with. Even when they fought the people who cared, they still wanted to be cared about.

Tanner got it. Until the age of ten he’d lived that same life. His parents had been abusive to each other and their children. They’d been drug addicts who couldn’t hold down jobs. There hadn’t been a safety net until the state sent the three Barstow kids to live with Aunt May in Haven, a community just on the outskirts of Waco. The move had saved his life. His older brother, Travis, had struggled a bit more and had lived at the boys ranch for a while. Their little sister, Chloe, hadn’t been much more than a baby when they were sent to live with their dad’s aunt May.

Young voices erupted as the story being told ended. He peeked inside the barn and watched as those five young boys moved closer to Macy Swanson, her nephew included. The little boy had recently turned seven. Colby’s hand was on her arm, and he stood close to her side. From thirty feet away Tanner could see her nerves. It was easy to perceive that she was afraid to move, afraid to lose the thin thread of connection between her and her nephew.

But the story she’d been telling had enthralled the kids. They were still asking questions about the dragon and the dragon slayer. She was telling them about faith in a way that a kid could understand.

He didn’t know Macy very well, but he had to admire how she could calm a group of rowdy boys with a story. If he was being honest, there were other things to admire, things a man couldn’t help but notice. He sure didn’t mind admiring or noticing. Sunlight danced through the center aisle of the barn, the beams of light catching in the blond hair that hung loose to the middle of her back. She was tall and classy. Beautiful, really.

And all city.

Things transplanted typically did better when transplanted into a similar environment. That was what he knew from living in the country. A water oak didn’t tend to do well in hot, sandy soil. Cacti thrived in the desert. That was just the way it was. City folks thrived in the city, and country people tended to stay in the country.

Macy looked up as he approached, her smile touching her green eyes with a warmth that took him by surprise. The boys remained circled around her. They had avoided the worst of Sam’s outburst and had been entertained with a story; they were on top of the world. Even Ben had lurked at the edge, listening to the story.

Ben, fourteen, tall and lanky with a shock of light brown hair, had been at the ranch for two years. He was a good kid. He’d had one failed attempt at going home. He’d been adopted as a preschooler, and the experts said he had trouble bonding because of his early childhood. That made sense to Tanner. The boy was sometimes angry and tended to push away when he started warming up to people.

But he was doing better. They could all see that.

Time. For so many of these kids it took a lot of time to heal. With that thought, his gaze fell on Colby Swanson. The boy’s parents had died in a car accident, and his grief had turned to anger that made him act out at school and be difficult to handle at home.

When a spot had opened, Macy placed him at the ranch.

“You boys get all of your stuff gathered up.” Tanner let his gaze fall on Colby. The little boy was holding tight to his aunt Macy. “And maybe we can get Miss Swanson to finish her story, or read to you all when you have library time.”

His phone rang. Rotten timing. He would have ignored it, but the caller ID flashed the name of the president of the local chapter of the Lone Star Cowboy League, an organization started over a hundred years earlier to help ranching communities. Since Gabriel Everett didn’t call just to shoot the breeze, it had to be important.

Jake, about the best hand around, had entered the barn from a side door. The big bonus was that not only could he break a horse to saddle, he also had a knack with the kids on the ranch.

“Jake, can you and Ben go ahead and take these guys on down to Bea?” He didn’t have to spell it out. Beatrice Brewster, the no-nonsense director of the LSCL Boys Ranch, ran the show. She’d watch the kids until she got the all clear from house parents Edward and Eleanor, who had their hands full with Sam.

Jake gave him a thumbs-up and started organizing the boys for the march to the main ranch house. Without asking, Macy fell in with Jake and the boys. She volunteered in the ranch office, helping with accounting. She’d also become pretty adept at finding donations and writing up grants. She didn’t usually help with the kids. But at times like this, everyone pitched in and helped out.

“Gabriel, what can I do for you?” Tanner watched as the small troupe marched toward the big ranch house, and then he headed for his truck.

“Tanner, we need to have an emergency meeting of the League. Can you be here in about fifteen minutes? Bring Bea with you. And Katie will probably need to attend so she can take notes for the ranch.”

“I’ll be there.” He glanced at his watch. “What’s going on?”

“I’d rather make the announcement when you get here. Let’s just say that some prayers are answered a little quicker than others.”

Interesting. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

When he pulled up to the ranch, Bea was already on her way down the stairs. Tall and in her fifties, the former social worker for the state was all heart. She adjusted her glasses and smoothed her hair, turning to give a “hurry up” look to the person following her out the door.

Macy Swanson?

The two climbed in his truck, Macy opening the back door and getting in the backseat. Beatrice clicked her seat belt and settled her purse on her lap.

“Katie is staying to help Jake with the kids. I asked Macy to come with us to take notes. I’m going to want my own person there so that we have a record of our own.” Beatrice shot him a questioning look. “Do you know what is going on, Tanner Barstow?”

Like he was one of her kids and someone had TP’d the house.

“No, Bea, I don’t. I got the call the same as you.”

“Gabriel said it’s a good thing. But, Tanner, I’ll have you know, I’m not a fan of surprises. Even of the good variety.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of Macy looking out the window, bottom lip caught between her teeth. He cleared his throat, and she shot him a look. “I’m sorry I put you on the spot back there. So, do you think you’d be interested in spending time reading to the kids? They enjoyed the story you told them.”

“I’m not sure,” she finally answered. “I mean, it would be good, wouldn’t it? The boys enjoyed it. Colby enjoyed it.”

He slowed to make his turn. “Think about it.”

The Everett Ranch, owned by Gabriel Everett, was a big spread located between the Silver Star and Haven. Tanner parked next to a half dozen assorted trucks and SUVs. He got out quickly so he could hurry to the other side and open the door for the ladies. His dad hadn’t taught him to be a gentleman, but Aunt May had. She’d told him someday he’d appreciate the manners she instilled in him. He’d be thankful.

He was, and he wished she was alive so he could tell her how much she’d meant to him and his siblings. But she’d passed about eight years ago, getting them mostly raised, all but Chloe, who had been not quite fifteen. May had at least seen Tanner’s business get off the ground. She’d known they would be okay without her.

Eight years later Haven Tractor and Supply was well-established, and Aunt May’s small ranch had quadrupled in size. He didn’t mind feeling proud of that accomplishment. May had sold off land to get him through college. He’d put the family spread, the Rocking B, all back together for her. It had taken him a few years, buying back the land as it came up for sale or as he convinced neighbors to sell it back to him.

He opened the door for Bea. She stepped out, not needing the hand he held out for her. He reached to open the door for Macy, as well.

“Thank you, Tanner.” Beatrice patted his arm, as if he wasn’t thirty-two and just twenty years her junior. With Bea they were all kids.

The ladies preceded him to the house. He didn’t mind. A few more minutes meant a little more time to think; maybe he might come up with some reason they were all being called to the Everett place for a meeting. But by the time they were shown to the library, where the meetings were held, he still didn’t have a clue.

A gavel pounded on the table. Tanner sat back and gave Gabriel his full attention, but then his gaze shifted to the right of the league president. The man sitting in the seat of honor was Harold Haverman, attorney and member of the Lone Star Cowboy League, of which Tanner was vice president. It seemed to him that if there was something going on, Tanner should have been told ahead of time.

Tall, with a black Stetson covering his gray hair and metal-framed glasses on the end of his nose, Harold had presence. And he had a document in his hands that looked far too official.

“Meeting to order.” Gabriel glanced around the group. He cited the date, the time, the emergency status of a meeting of the Waco district Lone Star Cowboy League chapter.

The formalities were taken care of with some seconds, a vote, and then on to new business.

“I would like to recognize our guest, Harold Haverman.”

Harold stood, pushed the silver-framed glasses back in place and shifted the papers he still held. He gave them all a look, serious as could be, no hints as to what this was all about.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming today. I know this is unexpected.” He peered at them over the top of those glasses. “As you all know, we lost a respected member of our community. Cyrus Culpepper passed last week. I know several of you attended his funeral. Today I have the honor of sharing with you his last will and testament.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Bea started to stand, but Gabriel shook his head. “I have children at home.”

“Bea, this won’t take a minute.” Harold cleared his throat and shook out the papers. “If you’ll just give me five minutes to read this. And then we can take care of the details.”

He started to read. Silence held as the members looked from one to the other, clearly astonished. Tanner glanced across the table and made quick eye contact with Macy Swanson and got caught in those green eyes of hers. She looked wary and like she was pretty sure she shouldn’t be involved. She also looked like someone still hurting. The grief for her brother had turned to pain for a little boy still missing his parents.

Listening as Haverman read the final will of one Cyrus Culpepper, curmudgeon and stirrer of the pot, Tanner thought that maybe they’d all just been tossed in the middle of a big old mess.

I, Cyrus B. Culpepper, am writing this on my deathbed with, per my doc of over forty years, only days or weeks to go. I may be about to meet my maker, but I am of sound mind and hereby bequeath the bulk of my estate to the Boys Ranch, as I was once a resident myself back when the ranch first started in 1947. Yes, that’s right. I might be an old curmudgeon who can’t tolerate a thing, but since I was once a troubled kid who was turned around by the Boys Ranch, I want to do something for the place. However, I have conditions. When I lived at the Boys Ranch, there were four other original residents who I lost touch with. I would like you to bring them together for a reunion at the ranch on March 20th, a party on my birthday for the 70th anniversary celebration of the Boys Ranch. That gives you six months. Now, now, quit your bellyaching—given all the newfangled technology, search engines and social media nonsense, you’ll probably find them lickety-split. Though I never tried, so who knows? I suppose I’ve gotten a bit nostalgic in my old age and leave it up to you whippersnappers to do my bidding.

Oh—and one more thing. I had a son, John Culpepper, who I didn’t get on with too well after his mother passed. We were estranged, but I know he had a child, a girl—Avery—who lost her mother. I heard, well after the fact, that my son died when the child was young. I have no idea what happened to her, and I’d like to invite her to the ranch to receive an inheritance.

If the terms of my will are not met, I’ve instructed my attorney, Harold Haverman, to bequeath the estate, minus a small endowment to the Boys Ranch, to Lance Thurston, a real estate developer, to build a strip mall bearing my name. Sometimes you have to provide the right incentive.

Now for the boring part. The “bulk of my estate” is to include my ranch house and all the outbuildings, livestock and land except for the cabin in which I grew up and the five acres of land it sits on. That cabin, five miles from the ranch on the outskirts of town, and land is bequeathed to Miss Avery Culpepper, to be given to her in March. I was a self-starter and believe everyone should be, but I also believe I did wrong by Avery and want her to have what she likely would have garnered over the years as my granddaughter. The rest of my bank accounts and investments are bequeathed to the LSCL Boys Ranch.

Yours, Cyrus B. Culpepper

Everyone was talking at once. Outrage. Shock. The library fairly rattled with raised voices. Fletcher Snowden Phillips, last remaining kin of the founders of the boys ranch, was the loudest. He was crowing that the ranch was meant to be at Silver Star and nowhere else. For a man constantly trying to litigate against the ranch, that rang false.

Gabriel Everett pounded the gavel on the table, and a hush fell with just a few last-ditch remarks from those wanting to voice concern.

“It looks as if we’ll need volunteers.” Gabriel looked over the group that had gone suspiciously quiet. No surprise. Everyone had something to say until they were asked to contribute more than words.

Macy Swanson raised a tentative hand, and Gabriel gave her the floor. Tanner leaned back in his chair, wondering what she planned on saying...and why he was so interested to hear it.


Chapter Two (#ulink_7a730b31-693d-5ce1-99c5-d110643e1ff0)

“I’ll volunteer to help find one of the people on the list. If anyone needs use of the library computers, they’re available. Social media is probably a good place to start searching.” She made quick eye contact with the people at the table, and when she got to Tanner, she faltered. Their gazes connected and she felt her cheeks flush.

Gabriel Everett sat down at the head of the big table. He looked too relieved when Macy volunteered. And she felt a little apprehensive. She wasn’t a part of this group, of this town, or their lives. Every single day she woke up in Haven she felt like a fraud. She could buy boots, show up at church, even cook a decent dessert for the monthly potluck. But she was as far from country as a person could get.

And she’d never been a part of a community, not a tight-knit place like this. People asked questions, they prodded, they wanted to be involved in her life and have her involved in theirs. She’d never been that kind of person. She’d grown up in a sprawling neighborhood, but she hadn’t known her neighbors.

So why in the world had she raised her hand to volunteer? Because Gabriel had looked like a lost giant standing at the end of the table waiting for someone to say something?

Now that she’d opened her mouth to volunteer, everyone was staring. Tanner Barstow, blue eyes and too-handsome face, wore a frown as he studied her from across the table. She glanced at Bea, hoping for a little moral support.

Bea patted her arm and smiled big. “Well, there you go. We’re all sitting here stunned, and Macy is jumping right in. Gabriel, give us that list again so that Macy can write them down, and we can figure out who is doing what here. It seems to me that we don’t have time to waste. We need that ranch.”

“And what if we can’t find those four people and the granddaughter?” Fletcher Snowden Phillips stood. He was tall, middle-aged, with thinning hair and a scowl that could have put off the most well-intentioned person.

Macy shivered in reaction to his growling voice. As a lawyer, Fletcher knew how to back people down. And she knew that he had long wanted the boys ranch closed. She found that hard to believe, considering his grandmother Luella Snowden Phillips, along with the Lone Star Cowboy League, Waco Chapter, had started the boys ranch. His own father, Tucker, had been the reason for the ranch. A neighboring rancher had helped put Tucker back on the straight and narrow, and later on, mother and son had done what they could to save other boys.

“What if these people have passed, or are too sick or just unwilling to come to this event Cyrus wanted us to plan?” Seth Jacobs, a rancher from closer to Waco, asked. Macy had met him at the boys ranch.

Harold Haverman tapped the pages of the will on the table and stood, sliding the papers back into a folder. “If you don’t find the people he has asked you to find, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“I think the will clearly states that the property will be turned into a strip mall.” Gabriel shook his head as he made the observation.

“That’s a mighty big strip mall,” Tanner drawled in that low, easy voice of his. He grinned at Gabriel. “I find it hard to believe Cyrus would do that to his pride and joy.”

“It isn’t for us to say what Cyrus would or wouldn’t have done,” Beatrice chimed in. “We have to make sure that ranch becomes the property of the League because we have boys waiting to be a part of our program.”

“I get that, Bea, but it seems a little like a wild-goose chase to me.” Flint Rawlings, foreman of the boys ranch, swept a large hand through his dark blond hair and then settled his hat back on his head. He rested his gaze on Fletcher. “And, Fletch, don’t get all excited. The boys ranch isn’t going to come to an end if we don’t get that property. We still have the Silver Star.”

Fletcher shook his head and then clamped his mouth closed. It was well-known around town that Fletcher used his legal might against the ranch. No one really understood why.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “We have five people to find, if you include Cyrus’s granddaughter, Avery.”

“And who are they?” Beatrice prodded.

Gabriel picked up a piece of paper. “Avery Culpepper, the granddaughter, and then we have Samuel Teller, Morton Mason, Edmond Grayson and Theodore Linley.”

Bea coughed a little, and Macy saw her shoot a look in Tanner’s direction. “Well, Gabriel, you should be able to help us find Theo.”

Gabriel pushed the paper aside. Macy was lost. She didn’t know these people or their stories. She waited, watching each person at the table as they reacted to the list.

“My grandfather and I haven’t spoken in so long, I wouldn’t recognize his voice on the phone. I’m not sure I’d know him if I saw him. And I doubt he wants to talk to me.” Gabriel glanced around the room. “I have one volunteer.”

“I’ll look for Theodore Linley,” Tanner offered into the silent room.

Gabriel gave a curt nod. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ll look for Avery Culpepper,” Macy offered.

Next to her, Beatrice tapped her fingers on the table and hmm’ed. “Well, I have the most at stake. Or should I say, my kids do. I’ll look for Samuel Teller and Morton Mason. It seems as if I might have a few emails or letters from former members. It might be easier than we think.”

Flint, sitting closest to Gabriel, reached for the paper. “I guess I’ll look for Mr. Grayson. That name is common, but I have a friend with the same last name.”

Beatrice smiled big. “So, the good Lord willing...”

“And the creek don’t rise,” someone muttered from the other end of the table.

Bea shot the offending party a look. “I’ve been praying for a bigger place or for money to build more cabins. The church has been praying. God has opened this door, and I, for one, intend on going through it.”

“Amen,” Gabriel murmured. “When does the Triple C become the property of the boys ranch and the LSCL?”

Mr. Haverman looked at his notes. “Possession begins one month from the reading of the will. Although you understand if the stipulations of the will aren’t met, you’ll have to return the property and move the boys back to the Silver Star. And Miss Avery Culpepper will be allowed to move to her property in March. And, please, don’t question me, because Cyrus had his reasons.”

Gabriel closed his eyes and ran a hand over them. Finally he looked out over the group that had assembled. “And with that, we will adjourn the meeting. If any of you want to stay and plan how to proceed, feel free to use this room. I’m afraid I have another appointment.”

With that, he picked up his briefcase and left.

Macy made eye contact with Bea. The other woman just shrugged and adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses but then turned her attention to Tanner.

“Well, Tanner?” Bea prodded.

The room had cleared, leaving only the four of them. Macy, Tanner, Flint and Bea. Tanner got up and headed for the coffeepot and Styrofoam cups.

“Coffee?” he offered.

He started pouring cups before anyone could answer.

“This Culpepper ranch is large?” Macy asked as she took the offered cup. She didn’t mean to notice Tanner’s hands, long-fingered, tanned, calloused, but when their fingers touched, she couldn’t help it.

Flint laughed at the question, but his smile was genuinely friendly. “The Triple C is a big spread. The house has three wings. There are plenty of buildings. And there’s room to grow.”

Beatrice got up to make copies of the list of names. “And that property is going to be our new ranch. I’m just not willing to give up on this. Every day I get a call from the state. There aren’t enough foster homes or residential facilities. Macy put Colby on the list last winter, and it took us several months to get him a bed. It breaks my heart each time we have to turn away a child in need of a home, or counseling.”

Tanner stopped behind Beatrice and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We won’t let you down, Bea.”

He took one of the papers she’d copied and returned to his seat. Macy pulled out her phone and typed the name Avery Culpepper into the search engine. A slew of entries appeared. She held the phone up for the others to see.

“It isn’t going to be easy, but it won’t be that difficult. There are dozens of hits for the name Avery Culpepper. I’m sure you’ll have the same experience with your names. And then it’s a matter of tracking down the correct person.”

“I hope it’s that easy,” Flint grumbled.

“Me, too.” Bea stood. “I’m not sure what else we can do here today. I have a dozen boys waiting to be fed, and I guess some kind of chaos Tanner created before we left.”

Tanner grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I do, create chaos. But the kid whisperer, Macy, calmed them all down with a story.”

Kid whisperer. She wished that were true. If it were true, she wouldn’t be a failure with her own nephew. As they stood to go, Tanner stepped in close.

“He’ll survive this.” He said it with conviction.

“I’m sorry?” She looked up, unsure what he meant.

“Colby,” he continued. “I know you worry about him, but give it time. He’ll come around.”

“I hope you’re right.” She prayed he was right. Because she didn’t want to lose her nephew. For Colby she would stay in Haven. She would manage to be the person he needed her to be in this small town with people who commented, gave advice and offered help.

What other choice did she have? She’d given up her life and her career in Dallas. She’d given up the fiancé who didn’t support her decisions.

This was her new life.

As they left together, Tanner touched her back, a gesture that comforted. She was sure that was what he meant by the fleeting contact. But it did more than comfort her; it made her aware of his presence.

In all the months she’d been here, he’d struck her as a man who didn’t get involved. He was a successful rancher and business owner. He sometimes showed up at the boys ranch. He rarely took time to socialize.

Today she was in a vulnerable place, worrying about Colby and missing her brother. Tomorrow she would be back to normal and Tanner’s touch, his kind words, would make sense.

* * *

Tanner strode through the doors of the Haven Tractor and Supply. His sister, Chloe, looked up from the counter and smiled. He felt immediately on edge because she was wearing that look, the one that spelled trouble for him. She wanted something. And he’d probably give in and get it for her. If he could.

“Been busy?” he asked as he walked behind the counter. He saw that she’d been doodling on a piece of paper. Pictures of dresses. The wedding variety of dress. He cringed. She was twenty-four and old enough, but he didn’t think she was ready. As an older brother he doubted he’d ever be ready to see her walked down the aisle, by either himself or their brother, Major Travis Barstow.

“Not real busy. Larry has a customer on the lot, looking at a tractor. Or a stock trailer. I’m not sure which.” She tapped the pencil on the counter and sneaked a look at him.

He pretended not to notice, but he almost couldn’t hide a smile. She was pretty, his sister. Dark hair in a ponytail, she was all country with beat-up boots, faded jeans. She made it all feminine with a lacy top she’d probably spent a day’s wages on.

“Are you selling off steers this weekend?” She hopped up on a stool and slid the doodles under the cash register. Like he hadn’t noticed.

“Are you buying wedding dresses?”

She turned a little pink. “No. I’m a girl. We dream about weddings.”

“You’ve only been dating Russell for a few months.”

Her smile dissolved. “He’s a good guy, Tanner. He’s made mistakes, but he’s got a job, and he’s trying to make things right.”

“I know that. I’m willing to give him a chance, but I’m not willing to let him hurt you.”

Her smile returned. “I’ve been thinking that maybe you could let him volunteer at the Silver Star. They’re going to need help moving, and it would give you a chance to get to know him.”

“I’ll talk to Beatrice. But, Chloe, I’m not going to put up with nonsense when he’s around the kids.”

“I know and I appreciate that. Tanner, he made mistakes when he was young. His parents’ divorce really upset him. He did things he shouldn’t have. But that isn’t who he is.”

“He stole a truck and a stock trailer full of cattle.”

“He was seventeen. He hasn’t been that person in a long time.”

“People in town have their suspicions.”

Before he could finish, Chloe slid off the stool and closed the distance between them. Yeah, he was in trouble. She’d always known how to work him. With a soft smile, she kissed his cheek and then patted it.

“You’re the best big brother a girl could have.”

“And you always say that when you get what you want.”

She didn’t move away. Her blue eyes glistened with tears, and his own throat tightened in response because he knew she was going to drag them back into the past, into memories she didn’t have because she’d been too young.

“You’ve been taking care of me for a long time,” she started. “Since I was a baby you’ve been the one feeding me, changing my diapers and keeping me safe.”

“How would you know? You were a baby.”

“Travis told me. And Aunt May. She said she had a hard time getting you to let go and just be a kid. You were always the one. You took care of us. And then you took care of May.”

“Do you have a point?” he asked, his voice more gruff than he’d intended. It didn’t seem to bother her. No, not his little sister. She smiled and dug her heels in, intent on some emotional rabbit trail.

“Yes, I have a point. Find someone to love, Tanner. You’re not getting any younger, you know. And I’m past the age of really needing a caretaker.”

“Thanks for that reminder of my advancing age.”

She grinned at that. “It’s the truth. You are getting a little long in the tooth. But, seriously, you’d make an amazing dad and a great husband. So why not let yourself be loved? Stop thinking you have to be there for everyone else, and let someone be there for you.”

“Words of wisdom?”

She scooted around him and headed for the door. “I am wise. I’m also right. It’s time for you to find a wife. Travis is happy in California. I’m eventually going to get married. And then you’ll be alone in that castle you’ve built.”

“It isn’t a castle.”

“It’s your kingdom,” she countered. “Fill it with kids.”

She left, and he didn’t have a thing to say in response to her lecture. It was almost closing time. He walked to the front door and watched as his salesman and mechanic, Larry, walked past the building to an old farm truck. The customer was old Joe Falkner, known to be worth millions. Joe still drove a truck he’d bought new a couple of decades ago. He lived in a house that appeared to be falling apart. But he raised some of the best Angus in the state.

He joined Larry as Joe drove off.

“Don’t tell me Joe is thinking of getting a new stock trailer.”

Larry laughed and pulled a stick of gum out of his pocket. He’d been trying to quit smoking for six months. So now he chewed gum. A lot of gum. He offered a piece to Tanner.

“Yeah, he’s going to have to buy a trailer. The floor rotted out of his. The guy who normally fixes it said no more, he isn’t fixing that trailer again.”

“Did you close him on one?”

Larry shook his head. “He won’t turn loose of a dime. He said in 1970-something he could get that trailer for, I don’t know, a ridiculous amount.”

“I guess if he decides to haul some cattle to auction, he’ll come back and buy a trailer.”

“Knowing Joe, he’ll go hire some drovers and herd those cattle to the auction like they did a hundred years ago.”

“Don’t give him that idea.” Tanner glanced at his watch. “I’m going to take a drive. You’ll be here for a bit?”

“Yeah, anything you need me to do?”

“Yeah, pray. We’ve got six months to find some people, or old Cyrus Culpepper’s place is going to be paved over.”

“I’d heard rumors about a crazy will. You can’t pave over that many acres, and Cyrus hated those types of developments.”

“Tell that to his will.”

Larry adjusted the bent-up cowboy hat he always wore. “He was an ornery old cuss. It’s hard to tell what he was thinking, but I’m sure he had some kind of angle when he came up with this plan.”

“I’d sure like to know what it was. If I don’t get back, will you close up?”

“You got it, boss.” Larry headed back to the building.

Tanner didn’t really have a plan when he left, but he found himself heading up the drive of the Triple C. It wasn’t too far from his own spread. When he pulled up, he saw another car in the driveway. He got out of his truck, surprised to see Macy sitting on the hood of her car looking at the old Culpepper place.

For a long minute he stood watching her. Her blond hair was pulled back with a headband, and sunglasses perched on the end of her nose. She looked out of place in jeans, boots and a plaid shirt, as if she was trying to fit, but she didn’t. She was city, from her manicured nails to the way she stepped around mud to keep it from getting on those boots of hers.

He admired that she wanted to blend, that she wanted to transplant herself in this community for the sake of a little boy who had already lost too much.

Admiring was as far as he wanted to let his thoughts take him on a sunny day in October when his sister was looking at wedding dresses, his brother was currently on temporary duty somewhere in the Middle East and Cyrus had strung them all up by their toes, asking for something that might be impossible. “I came to pray,” she finally said without turning to look at him.

The words took him by surprise, but they weren’t uncomfortable the way they might have been if someone else had said them. She was simply stating a fact.

He closed the distance between them.

“I came to take a look around. I haven’t been here in years. I don’t know if anyone has been up here. Cyrus kept a loaded shotgun, and he made it pretty clear he’d shoot first and ask questions later.” He grinned at the memory of the old guy.

“He didn’t like people?”

He leaned a hip against the hood of her car, leaving a good bit of space between them. “I guess he liked people okay. He just didn’t want anyone messing around up here. He must have liked people, because he’s making a big donation to the LSCL Boys Ranch.”

“He isn’t making it easy.”

“I guess that’s true. But we’ll work it out. Like most of us, Cyrus had baggage. I never knew he had a kid, let alone a granddaughter. I didn’t know he’d lived at the ranch.”

“There are several Avery Culpeppers in the area.”

It hadn’t taken her long to get started. He hadn’t even thought about where to start his search for Theo Linley. He doubted Gabriel would be much help.

“We’ll find them all,” he assured her. Or maybe he was hoping to assure himself.

They sat in silence looking at the big house with the pillared front porch. There were three wings. Plenty of space for kids to run and be kids. He’d looked over the will, and it said they could go ahead and begin moving. It would take weeks to get the process started. There would be supplies to purchase, as well as volunteers to organize. A place like this meant more of everything. More staff. More furniture. More food. More time. But it would be worth it.

It would be good to have the boys in this house so they could celebrate Christmas in their new home.

“I should be going.” She slid off the hood of her car.

“Me, too.” He paused, watching as she dug her keys out of her pocket. “Have you thought about what I asked you earlier? About reading to the boys?”

She glanced away from him, her hand going up to brush strands of blond hair from her face as the wind picked up a bit. “I don’t know.”

“Something troubling you?”

“No, not at all.” But the worried look in her green eyes said that something about the offer did worry her.

“It isn’t something you have to decide on today. The library as it is will be packed up and moved over here. We just got it put together. Now we’ll have to take it all apart and do it all over again.”

She moved to her car, and her hand settled on the door. “I can help with that, with getting things packed and then getting the new library organized.”

“That would be good. I hate to overwhelm you, since you’re new to the area, but you might have noticed if we get a willing volunteer, we use them.”

“I don’t scare easily. And I don’t mind helping.”

He reached past her to open the car door, the way Aunt May had taught him. A hint of something soft and floral, like wild roses on a spring day, caught and held him a little longer than was necessary or safe.

Chloe would have told him to stop living his life off a list he’d made twenty years ago. He couldn’t. That list had served him well. It had taken him from the gutter to the life he had now, and someday he’d find a woman to share that life with him.

He closed the car door and watched Macy drive away in her little economy car, and he smiled. She wasn’t at all the woman he was looking for. But something about her made him think about finding someone.


Chapter Three (#ulink_a35e8338-9d73-58ee-8e18-ed830aca4820)

Macy juggled her purse, book bag and keys in order to get her front door unlocked. As much as she wanted to just crash, she had more work to do and she was going to need a cup of coffee to get her through the rest of the day. It had been a few days since the reading of Cyrus Culpepper’s will. She’d been substituting at the Haven high school, so she hadn’t had much time to think about finding Avery Culpepper or even going out to the Silver Star.

Entering the house, she was met by silence. It was peaceful. But lonely. Colby should be here. He should be running to the kitchen to grab a snack, plopping in front of the TV to watch his favorite afternoon shows.

But then, in a perfect world her brother and sister-in-law would be here to greet him. Macy would still be in Dallas. Maybe she’d even be planning her wedding.

Instead she was standing in her brother’s kitchen fighting the familiar doubts that had assailed her since she’d learned that he’d named her guardian of his son. In the beginning she’d believed they would make it, she and Colby. His anger had proved her wrong. It had proved she wasn’t a parent, or even something close to a parent. She was twenty-eight, single, and hadn’t even begun the process of thinking about kids.

Grant’s and Cynthia’s deaths had changed everything. For Colby. And for her.

It had amazed Macy that her brother had found his way to the small town of Haven. Their mother, Nora, had insisted he could do better if he stayed in the city. He would have moved up, made more, had a nicer home than the remodeled craftsman house with its large front porch, complete with porch swing.

Grant and Cynthia had been happy in Haven.

She worried that she didn’t have it in her to be the small-town librarian, mother of Colby.

She turned on the coffeemaker and found her favorite mug. As she waited for the water to heat, she stood at the window and looked out at the small but wooded lot behind the house. Not a high-rise in sight. No sirens in the distance. Not a sound could be heard.

She missed Colby.

The ready light flashed, and she put her mug under the spout and pushed the button. Coffee poured into her mug. She opened the book bag that she’d brought home from school, and as she pulled out her organizer she noticed another book. She tugged it out, trying to decide where she’d picked it up and when. Yes, she’d been distracted today. She didn’t think she’d been that distracted.

A note fell out of the book. She picked up the yellow piece of paper. A creepy, crawly feeling shivered down her spine.

The book was a middle grade book about a ranch. There was nothing remarkable about the title or the story. She set it down and turned her attention to the note. The feeling of apprehension eased.

Could you read this to the boys? Thanks, Tanner.

How in the world had the book gotten in her bag? Maybe when she’d stepped out of the room to make copies? But surely one of the students would have told her. She thought about the fifteen English literature students. No, they wouldn’t have told her. All that aside, why would Tanner Barstow have a sudden desire to get her involved with the boys at the ranch? She couldn’t even raise her own nephew.

Every single day she questioned why she was in Haven. She’d given up her career, her friends and her fiancé to be here for a little boy who only wanted his parents back.

She slid the note back into the book.

Maybe Tanner thought that if she spent more time with children, she would grow into the role of Colby’s mom. That made sense because Tanner seemed to be a natural with children. He’d practically raised his own sister. He was the type who would get married, have a half dozen kids and never miss a step.

Macy worried that she didn’t have that parenting gene. There were days that she loved the idea of raising her nephew, of someday being the person he ran to at the end of school, eager to tell her about his day. There were more nights that she lay awake, scared to death that she would never be able to fill that place in his life, and that he would never want her to be that person.

Beatrice had told her to take her time. In family therapy she’d learned to give him space and to not react when he pushed her away. It was hard, because every time he pushed her away, her heart took it personally.

When it hurt, like it did just then, she reminded herself that her pain was nothing compared to Colby’s.

Her coffee was finished. She put a lid on the thermal mug and grabbed the book Tanner had left for her. She had thirty minutes to get to the ranch. She’d promised Bea she would put some finishing touches on the ranch library, and she wanted to apply for another grant.

* * *

When Macy pulled up to the main house of the Silver Star, Beatrice’s car was in the drive. Flint, the ranch foreman, was just walking down the front steps. He tipped his hat in greeting but went on, heading for the barn. Macy got out of her car and strode up to the house. Beatrice met her at the front door.

“Hey, Macy, I wasn’t expecting you today.”

Macy held the book out, and Bea took it, perplexed, her eyes narrowed as she studied it.

“What’s this for?” Bea asked.

“I thought you might know. Tanner must have brought it to the school.” She handed over the note.

“You didn’t see him leave it?”

She shook her head. “No. I found it in the book bag I carry.”

Bea motioned her inside. “That doesn’t sound like Tanner. He doesn’t do things willy-nilly like that.”

“He asked me if I would read to the boys. I told him I’d have to think about it. I thought maybe he left it, hoping I’d say yes.”

Bea led the way to the big kitchen at the back of the house. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“That would be nice.”

Bea put the teapot on to boil, and then she leaned against the counter, still giving the book her full attention. “Tanner should be here in a bit. We’re going to see what we can find on our missing ranch alumni. You can ask him if and why he would leave a book for you. But if he did do this, don’t feel as if you have to do what he’s asking. I think you already do enough.”

“I love doing what I can for the ranch, Bea. It’s my way of giving back. You all rescued us. I’m not sure what would have happened to Colby if he hadn’t gotten a spot here.”

“I think you would have found him help. Go easy on yourself, Macy. Colby isn’t the only one who has suffered. You lost your brother.”

Unexpected tears burned at the backs of her eyes, and her throat constricted. Macy nodded, because if she opened her mouth, she might cry.

Bea placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Give yourself time to grieve. I think you have a tendency to go full throttle, fixing things. Some situations need time.”

“I know. I’m just afraid. What if I can’t be the person Colby needs me to be? What if he never gets over being angry? Eleanor Mack and I have discussed this several times. We understand anger and sadness at the loss of his parents, but it seems like the anger is magnified, and we don’t know why.”

Bea poured water in two cups. The fragrant aroma of herbal tea filled the air with hints of cinnamon and clove.

“I would agree with Eleanor. Colby is an especially angry little boy. But give it time. We’ll figure out what is going on. Once we get to the root of the problem, we can start working on making the two of you a family. I know you’re afraid you can’t do this. We all feel that way when we are looking a problem head-on and thinking that this is our future. In time you come to a place where you realize you’ve survived it, and that, through it all, God made you a little stronger.”

“Thanks, Bea. I hope you’re right.”

Bea chuckled, “Haven’t you been told? I’m always right.”

“And if she isn’t, she’ll find a way to convince you she is.” Katie Ellis, in her twenties and receptionist of the boys ranch, entered the room. She got a cup and added a tea bag before pouring water.

“Katie, you know I’m always right.” Bea pushed the sugar jar to the pretty blonde receptionist. “Oh, did I tell you that Pastor Walsh is coming by for Bible study with the boys? He has a new video series he wants to do with them.”

Katie turned a little pink at the mention of the Haven Community Church pastor. “I’ll make sure the meeting room is ready.”

“That would be good. And you might offer to help him out.” Bea grinned as she made the suggestion.

“I would, but I have to do laundry tonight.” Katie headed for the door with her tea. “I’m going to head home. Is there anything else you need?”

“Nothing at all,” Bea called out to her. And then to Macy, “That girl. Pretty as they come and sweet, but she’s never really dated.”

Dating, the last thing Macy wanted to discuss. She smiled and reached into her purse for the information she’d found on the many Avery Culpeppers.

“I found all of this last night. Maybe one of these will be Avery Culpepper, granddaughter. A few of them even live in Texas.”

“You’ve been busy,” Bea said as she looked over the list.

“I don’t have much to do in the evenings.”

Bea looked at her over the top of her glasses. “That’s going to change when we get Colby home to you.”

“I hope so, Bea. I really hope.”

“It’ll happen sooner than you know. I realize the two of you had a rough visit when he tried the weekend pass. But that was a big event, going home for the first time since coming here. There are a lot of memories, a lot he has to deal with. We’ll try another pass soon, but for now we’ll stick with day passes. He might do better with a few hours just to let him get used to being at home with you.”

Macy must have made a face, because Bea patted her hand. “And that will give you a chance to get used to being the mom. He’s going to need you, Macy.”

She nodded, unable to give voice to her concerns. Booted footsteps interrupted the conversation. A moment later Tanner appeared in the kitchen. He was tall and broad-shouldered, ruggedly handsome, and for the better part of the year Macy had lived in Haven, he’d ignored her.

She could think of several reasons. Folks in small towns weren’t always eager to welcome outsiders. Or maybe he didn’t like that she’d made a mess of her relationship with Colby. He was protective of the kids on the ranch. She couldn’t fault him for that.

“Are we having a meeting about our missing alumni?” He cut a path to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup, taking a whiff before adding sugar.

“It’s a couple of hours old, probably a little on the bitter side,” Bea informed him. “And, yes, an impromptu meeting. Macy got the surprise you left in her bag.”

He turned, eyes narrowed as he looked from Bea to Macy. From that look, she knew he hadn’t left the book.

* * *

Tanner leaned against the counter, not sure what to say to the two women who obviously thought he should know what they were talking about. He barely knew Macy Swanson. And he didn’t make a habit of forming relationships with parents of the boys at the ranch. “Surprise?”

Macy pushed a book across the counter. He reached for it and gave it a long look. “Never seen it before.”

She handed him a note with handwriting that definitely wasn’t his. “This was attached.”

He shook his head. “Again, I’ve never seen it before, and that isn’t my writing.”

“But you asked me to read to the boys.” Macy’s voice trailed off at the end, and she took the book back from him. “Who else would have done this?”

“Interesting question. But I just saw Pastor Walsh on the front lawn because he was told the boys want Bible studies on Friday afternoons. That’s the first I’ve heard of that. Not that our boys aren’t good kids, but they don’t typically reach out to the local pastor wanting more church. More often than not, they complain about Sunday and Wednesday services.”

Bea rubbed a finger across her chin and hmm’ed. “You know, I got a note next to my phone, like someone had left a message after talking to Pastor Walsh. It said he was interested in spending more time here with the boys and thought that perhaps Katie Ellis could help lead a Bible study with the boys. Of course I called him and asked when he’d like to do this.”

“And here I was going to blame you, Bea.” Tanner sat down next to the older woman.

“Well, it wasn’t me, Tanner.” She gave him an arch look over the top of her glasses.

He winked at Bea and then glanced at Macy. She sat with her gaze lowered, focusing on the book and not on him.

That gave him a few seconds to study the woman sitting across from him. A curtain of blond hair fell forward, slightly hiding her expression. She was slim and graceful; even her hands seemed delicate. Delicate but capable.

He cleared his throat and cleared the thoughts from his mind. “But now that you have the book, are you interested in reading to the boys? I’ve lost track of the ages, but I think we have several under the age of ten who would enjoy a little quality time with you. Colby being one of them.”

“I’ll read to the boys. We’ll combine reading with a lesson on how to use the library, and they can also help me start packing it up.”

Bea clapped her hands together and shot him a beaming smile. “That sounds like a great idea. And I think this will give you some real quality time with Colby. He does love your stories. He talks about them, you know.”

Macy’s expression changed, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “He always seems to draw back just as I think we’re getting closer.”

“Maybe he’s afraid of getting close?” Tanner offered. “I remember when we first came to Aunt May. We’d been on our own, and suddenly there was this woman wanting to be involved in every moment of our lives. It wasn’t easy to let her in.”

“But he wasn’t used to being on his own. He had parents who loved him and cared for him.”

Bea sighed at the reminder.

“Yes, and then they were gone and you were there trying to fill their shoes. It hasn’t been easy for either of you,” Bea said, her arm around Macy’s shoulders. “Now, Tanner, what brings you to the ranch this late in the day?”

“I wanted to arrange for the group of us looking for the lost residents to meet for dinner tomorrow evening at the steak house. I’m buying. We can look at any notes we’ve found and see what we need to do next.”

“What time?”

“Six okay for everyone?”

“That sounds good,” Bea said as she gathered their cups.

Tanner headed for the door, but then he remembered one other item on his list. “Oh, I forgot something.”

Bea set the cups back down on the counter. “What is it?”

“Chloe wants to see if Russell can have a job helping out around here. I understand if the answer is no.”

Bea laughed at that, taking him by surprise. “That girl can still wrap you around her little finger.”

“Yes, she has a gift,” Tanner acknowledged. “And she thinks I need to get to know the man she plans on marrying.”

“We’ll find him something to do. And try not to worry. We all know Russell. We know his past. After all, Tanner, the boy spent six months here.”

“Of course. I just don’t want any problems for you or the ranch.”

“Don’t you worry about us, we know how to handle young men like Russell.”

Yes, if anyone knew how to handle Russell, it would be Bea. As he started to turn to go, his gaze landed on Macy. He didn’t know what to say to her about the book and the note. Someone obviously wanted to push her into spending more time with Colby and the other boys at the ranch. Maybe Bea? Could even have been Flint or Jake.

Maybe he would ask Jake. He’d been there yesterday. Maybe he’d overheard Tanner ask Macy to help out, and he’d taken off with the idea in order to get her over here more often.

But the book and story time were low priority. The LSCL Boys Ranch needed Cyrus Culpepper’s property. Still, as Tanner left the Silver Star, the Culpepper place wasn’t on his mind. Instead his thoughts had turned to Macy Swanson and the strange turn of events that had her front and center in his life.


Chapter Four (#ulink_a9789335-9f77-5905-a52c-c12934edee49)

The print of the grant Macy had typed up blurred a bit as she stared at it. She rubbed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She’d been at the Silver Star since shortly after three, and she had three hours to go until the dinner at the steak house. If she hadn’t agreed to the plan yesterday, she would back out and go home. But she had volunteered, and she wasn’t canceling on people who were counting on her.

Things might seem a little brighter if she hadn’t woken up that morning to a car that wouldn’t start. She’d walked to school from her house. After work, Katie Ellis had given her a ride to the ranch. Macy would have to see if the other woman was still around to give her a ride back to town.

All in all it had been a long day. The kind of day that deserved another cup of coffee. Or a really long nap. And she was getting neither of those things. Instead she was sipping on a cup of herbal tea that Beatrice had brought her, something to soothe her, she’d been told.

A light rap on the door interrupted her musings. She smiled at the woman standing in the opening, her auburn hair pulled back. A floral shirt stretched tight over her belly. For a few months Josie Markham had tried to hide her pregnancy. Or maybe the young widow had been in denial. Her husband, a county deputy, had been killed in the line of duty. Only after his death did Josie learn that she was pregnant.

The two of them, Josie and Macy, had bonded immediately. They were both grieving, both trying to figure out the next step in their lives.

“Are you busy?” Josie asked as she stepped into the room and lowered herself into a chair. She was petite and even now seemed to be all belly.

“No, not really. I’m writing a new grant for a playground. But I have to decide how to word it. I’m trying to have faith that we’ll get the Culpepper place. That changes things a bit.”

“I guess that would complicate the grant process.”

“Yes, a bit.” Macy slid the grant paperwork into the filing cabinet and locked the drawer. “How are you feeling?”

Josie shrugged, but she briefly looked away and dashed a finger under her eye. A sign she wasn’t as great as the chipper smile she always managed to show the world might indicate.

“I’m good.” She sighed, and her hand went to her belly. “Good, meaning I’m waking up each morning. I’m moving forward, even though sometimes I feel like I’m stuck in quicksand.”

“Josie, I’m so sorry.” Macy reached for Josie’s hand and gave her fingers a light squeeze. “If you need anything...”

The smile reappeared. “I know. And the same goes for you. We’re quite a pair, aren’t we? Neither of us planned parenthood this way. How’s Colby doing?”

“I’m not sure. When I see him here, he seems fine. But when I tried to take him home, he was lost and then angry.”

“He has been through so much for someone so young. Give him time.”

“It’s been a year, Josie. What if he needs more than I can give him?”

“What do you mean?”

Macy closed her eyes just briefly. What did she mean? How could she put these thoughts into words? “I worry that I’m not the right person to raise him. Would he be better if there was someone else, and I just went away?”

Josie leaned forward and placed a hand on her arm. “Oh, Macy, don’t. He needs you. He might be pushing you away, but in time he’ll let you in.”

“I hope so. And if that isn’t the case, I hope God will show me what our next step is.”

“Colby was always a good little guy.” Josie sat for a long moment, looking out the window of the tiny office Macy used. “Maybe there’s something else, something more. Does he say anything in therapy or their group sessions?”

“Not really. They’ve had a hard time getting him to open up about that night. I understand. Sometimes I’d like to brush it under the rug and pretend it didn’t happen. But he’s been stuck in the ‘anger’ stage of grief for so long. I just worry we won’t get him to acceptance.”

“And on top of that worry, now we have Cyrus’s will to contend with. I don’t know why his lawyer didn’t try to talk him out of it.”

“Do you think he could have talked him out of it?” Macy asked, already knowing the answer.

“Not a bit. And now I have to run. I’m helping Abby and John Garrett with the boys in their cabin. We’re having a cookout and game night. But Bo Harrington is attending, and his son, Christopher, is already a pill without his parents there to make it worse.”

Macy knew a little backstory, that Christopher Harrington was sixteen and spoiled. The state juvenile office had placed him at the ranch, and his parents were still determined to get him out.

“Have fun. I heard he waxed the windows of Abby’s car. And he’s pulled a couple of the other boys into his antics.”

Josie groaned as she stood. “He’s rotten. I think he has potential if his parents will learn to allow him to suffer consequences. See you later. And let me know how it goes with the meeting and the big hunt.”

“Of course I will.” She smiled and waved to her friend. She had thirty minutes to work in the library. She wanted to start organizing things for the move. With the goal of moving at the end of the month, Bea was in overdrive, trying to get everyone and everything organized.

The library would be one of the easiest rooms to pack. It was fairly new and already somewhat in order. The rest of the ranch, she shuddered to think of that process. Decades of accumulation and living and only a month to box it all up.

As she wandered about the lovely old room with the high ceilings and dark stained woodwork, she heard footsteps in the hall. Light footsteps. Not the heavy booted footsteps of one of the hands or the soft swish of Bea’s sensible shoes.

She turned and caught sight of a slip of a boy, his dark hair mussed and his sneakers scuffing back and forth on the wood floor, as if he wasn’t sure of his welcome. She knelt and held out her arms.

Colby ran into her embrace.

“Hey, sweet guy, what’s up?” She wrapped her arms around him, wishing she could take away all of his pain, all of his anger. She would. She’d do it in a heartbeat because she knew she could process it, figure it out and move on. She had been moving on for the past year. Losing her brother, Grant. Losing her fiancé, her job.

But gaining Colby.

If only she could find a way to help him move on.

He shuddered in her arms, and his hand raised to swipe at tears rolling down his cheeks, dampening her sleeve. She tried to pull him back against her, but he stiffened, unwilling to have the embrace a second longer.

“Are you okay?” She stayed on her knees, her hands on his arms.

He nodded, but his green eyes swam with tears he was fighting to hold back. She bit down on her lip, trying to think of the right words. A mom should know what to say. A mom would know how to help him. She closed her eyes and admitted her failings in this area.

“Colby, I want to help you. I want to make it all better. If you could just tell me.”

He shook his head, but he stepped a little closer.

“I love you,” she whispered close to his ear. She brushed a kiss across his head, and he didn’t move away.

“I love you, Aunt Macy.” With those words her heart grabbed hold of hope.

“Did you sneak away from the cabin?”

He nodded and again swiped at tears that threatened to fall.

“Did someone upset you or hurt you?” Stupid question. Of course he was upset and hurt. But was this a new hurt or lingering pain?

It was like trying to put together a puzzle, but without all of the pieces. How she wanted all of the pieces! She wanted him whole. Sometimes she saw glimpses of the Colby she’d known before the accident. But the glimpses were fleeting.

He sat down on the floor in front of her, and she took that as an invitation and sat next to him.

What would a mom do? She desperately wanted to think like a mom, be a mom. She scooted close, but she didn’t put her arms around him. She waited, knowing he needed time.

“Diego called me a big baby.”

Diego, not much older than Colby. But with a different story and different baggage to work through.

“He’s wrong,” she told her nephew. “You’re tough. Really tough.”

“Ben took up for me. He told Diego to be nice, but Diego said that I’m not nice to you.”

“You are nice to me.” She covered his hand with hers. “We’re going to make it through this.”

“Because we’re family now. That’s what Eleanor says.”

Eleanor Mack was counselor and house mother of Cabin One. Macy smiled and told herself to thank the other woman.

“Yes, we’re family.” She wanted to hold him. He smelled of the outdoors, of hay and livestock. He had red cheeks from playing in the sun. He was everything to her.

“I have to go.” He stood, looking down at her with such a serious expression. For a moment she saw his father in him. Grant’s seriousness. Her heart ached at the thought. “I’ll walk you back.”

He reached for her hand. It might as well have been her heart.

“Eleanor says I can have a pass to go to church on Sunday.”

“I like that idea.” Macy glanced down at the little man leading her through the house.

“Me, too. Do you think you can tell me another story?”

“I’m sure I can.”

“Ben says you’re going to read stories to us. He said he’d come with me.”

She surprised herself by smiling. “That’s fine.”

“He’s not too old for stories?” Colby asked as they walked out the front door. It was warm for the first week of October, but a light breeze blew, bringing country scents of cut grass, livestock and drying leaves.

“No. We’re never too old for stories.”

“That’s good.” They walked along the path to Cabin One, Colby swinging his hand that held hers. “Ben said we’re going to move to another ranch. I don’t know if any of us want to move. We like it here.”

“But moving can sometimes be good. There will be more room for more boys at the new ranch.”

Colby stopped walking and looked up at her, his green eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun. “But if they come here, it means there’s something wrong in their homes.”

“That might be true, Colby. But it’s good that there’s a place for them to go.”

He continued walking, his hand still holding tight to hers. “But it would be better if moms and dads...”

“If they never went away?” she asked quietly.

He nodded, but he didn’t answer.

“You’re right, that would be better.” She kept walking, trying hard not to give in to the tears burning her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He didn’t answer.

She left Colby with Eleanor. That moment, walking away from him, was as painful as the first day she’d left him at the ranch. The difference was that this time he hugged her goodbye. That first day he’d walked away without a word, without even looking back.

That parting hug gave her hope.

When she got back to the main house, Katie Ellis was waiting to give her a ride to the meeting where they would hopefully find that it would be no trouble to track down a few men who hadn’t been seen or heard from in decades.





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