by Jen Peters
“Thy will be done, in all things,” she finally prayed.
Maddy remained on her knees, trying to keep her mind blank and be open to whatever thoughts came. No answers appeared, but she was gradually filled with a sense of love and security, as if the Lord had His arms around her.
She was loved. And if the Lord loved her, He was watching over her. Even if she didn’t know how to handle things, that much she did know.
She basked in the feelings for a few minutes, and the glow stayed with her as she puttered around the cabin. She picked up the phone and called Lacey. “Hey, girl, want to come bake?”
38
Adam rode along behind the others, his thoughts straying from mountain lion problems to Maddy to his odd phone call last night. Mrs. Evans’ daughter had called to tell him her mother was in a confessing mood.
“I’m so sorry,” she had said. “It looks like we owe the ranch a bunch of money. Mom got it in her head that the ranch was rich and other businesses needed help and she was overpaying them to ‘help out.’ I promise I’ll pay it back as soon as I can, but it will need to be little by little.”
Adam had been shocked—all this time he’d thought Mrs. Evans had stolen it for herself. His heart softened a bit as he thought about what her mental state must be, plus the broken hip. Her daughter didn’t sound like they had any extra money, either. And it wasn’t like the ranch wouldn’t recover—it had been mostly the principle of the thing.
“We couldn’t understand why,” he’d said, letting retribution slide away. “Thank you for calling. I need to check with my family, but it sounds like you’ve got enough to worry about. We probably won’t prosecute, and you won’t need to pay it back. The ranch will be fine.”
The daughter had argued about needing to repay for their own peace of mind, and Adam had finally accepted that. But he’d been surprised at how nice it felt to let the bitterness ease away.
He wished there was a way to let Maddy’s problems ease away, too. To make Brock disappear, to erase the damage the man had done to her psyche.
Wasn’t there any way Adam could help her? To let her know deep in her soul that he would protect her, not threaten her?
Just love her, came the thought.
Huh. Now that things were as bad as they could get, was he finally getting a whisper from God? But if so, it was one without much direction.
“You’re awful quiet,” Dad said, nudging his horse closer to Adam’s.
“Just thinking.” There were private parts of his life he didn’t feel like sharing, even with his father.
“About Maddy?”
Confound it, did his father know everything that went through Adam’s mind?
Adam remained silent, scanning ground and trees for signs of the mountain lion, checking the cattle for clues that a cow or calf wasn’t doing well.
“She’s good for you, son. You need to make up with her.”
Adam snorted. “I wish. Too many other problems involved.”
Dad waved his hand in the air, making Cobbler jerk his head in surprise. “Maybe she could help with the problems. I like her, and you put too much of a load on your shoulders.”
Before Dad could say anything else, Adam heard a cow lowing in distress. He kicked Mister into a lope and went searching for her.
It was easy to follow the sound. The cow stood by a huge spruce, her calf out of sight but bawling weakly near the tree.
He prayed it wasn’t lion-wounded.
Adam dismounted, dropping his reins and letting Mister stand ground-tied, and followed the sound under the tree branches.
One of the calf’s hooves was sticking out of a dark hole. Adam reached in and found the other hind hoof. He grabbed both of them and heaved, hauling a scared calf out into the daylight.
“What happened?” Micah said, riding up with Dad.
“I think he found a tree well left from winter. You know, one of those snow sinkhole things.” Adam grabbed a chamois from his saddle and rubbed the calf vigorously. “At least it wasn’t too deep.”
“I know what a tree well is, Adam,” Micah said, dismounting. “I just didn’t expect one now”
Adam shoved the calf over to its mother, who comforted it with an all-over body lick. “We ought to send a crew up to fill these things in. See why I’m always double-checking?” He didn’t need to look at Micah to know he was rolling his eyes.
“Someday you’re going to give up control over everything,” Micah said. “And speaking of control, when are you going to forgive Maddy for whatever she did?”
Adam jerked upright. “Who said I need to forgive her?”
Dad looked between them, busied himself with something on his saddle, then left to talk to Wes and Luis.
Micah shrugged. “You guys fought about something, and it must have been big or you wouldn’t have broken up. And things like that are never one-sided. So what was so bad that you couldn’t forgive each other?”
Adam collected Mister’s reins and rubbed the gelding’s face, stalling.
“Adam? What exactly happened?”
Adam rested his forehead in Mister’s mane. All the private things he’d been holding in wouldn’t be held anymore. “She slammed me down for fighting with Ty. She can’t deal with any of that. Says she’s too messed up inside.”
“That’s rough.” Micah’s voice was sympathetic. “She’s not ready to move on?”
Adam stroked his horse absently. Mister was mostly shed out now, but soft hairs still came off in Adam’s hand.
“No. And I don’t know how to fix things for her,” he finally said.
“I don’t think you can. I think she has to work through that herself.”
Adam’s heart churned with more. “But I always fix things. I keep an eye on everything I can, and fix anything I can’t foresee. But not this, and it’s breaking me.”
He felt Micah’s hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think you can ‘fix’ Maddy—you have to let her work through that. And the rest of it—you don’t have to. You’ve never had to. You just have to know that the rest of us will do our jobs.”
Adam buried his face in Mister’s warmth. He couldn’t not take care of things. That was how he kept control of things around him. But it was tearing him apart. How, Lord? How do I do this?
He twirled a bit of Mister’s thick mane around his gloved finger. Peace finally came when he forced an unwanted admission into words. “I don’t know how.” He froze, wanting to take it back as soon as he said it.
Micah gave him a reassuring squeeze. “Just let go a little. Practice with us first, and then let go a little more with the ranch hands. And just be there for Maddy.”
Adam nodded, not lifting his head yet. Letting go right now did not include letting his younger brother see his red eyes. “Maddy’s leaving. Maybe not today, but soon. Her ex is still on the prowl.”
“What? And we’re all up here?”
Adam shook his head. “Caleb’s keeping an eye on her, and Jesse’s fertilizing the home pastures today. And Maddy doesn’t want me around, anyway.”
Micah snorted. “She might say she doesn’t, but …”
Adam pushed himself away from the horse, flipped the off rein back over Mister’s neck, and swung into the saddle with one smooth motion. “Maybe that’s my first letting go: having Caleb watch out for her instead of me. Come on, we’ve got more ground to cover.”
39
By the time Lacey arrived, Maddy’s gloom had settled back in. Not about Brock—he seemed far away right now—but the hopelessness over Adam weighed her down even while they watched a video about making profiteroles.
Lacey talked while they mixed the choux pastry, her chatter mostly about a boy on another ranch whom she liked. By the time they were smushing the pastry into a bag, Maddy’s heart had lightened, and she even chuckled as they tried to pipe the soft stuff. If it were absolutely necessary for the dough to look like small cones, they’d have to start over. If blobs of various sizes and shapes were acc
eptable, they’d be fine.
“I wonder what the guys will think of these,” Maddy wondered aloud. “They’re going to be weird-looking profiteroles.”
“Most of the guys are out on the range today, so it doesn’t matter,” Lacey said breezily.
And Maddy hadn’t even known. It seemed like only a few days since she was aware of Adam’s every move, and yet it also felt like eternity. Will my heart ever heal, Lord? Will I ever not be broken? What she wouldn’t give to be as carefree as this teenager in front of her.
Lacey was prattling on. “I would have gone with them—they’re looking for mountain lion signs—but Brad wants to go riding later.”
There was a knock at the door, and Caleb poked his head in. “Did I hear you say Brad Bowen? What happened to Julio? What are you doing with the Bowen kid?”
Lacey tossed her head. “Julio’s a jerk, and Brad and I are just hanging out. And since when do you sneak in instead of clumping around in your boots? And did you sell the yearling?”
“Maybe I started sneaking to keep an eye on my baby sister, and no, they’re thinking about it.”
Maddy just leaned against the counter and watched.
“You’re baby sister’s all grown up now,” Lacey growled.
“Oh, really?” Caleb got a gleam in his eye and advanced.
“No!” Lacey squealed, dodging his outstretched hand. “You can’t tickle me, I’m working!”
Caleb stopped at that. “Working? Doing what?”
“Baking!”
He looked around and saw the uncooked profiteroles. “These things? What are they? Besides…interesting?”
Madd grinned, the sibling banter feeling homey and happy, but Lacey glared. “They will be scrumptious. If we decide you can have any,” the teenager declared.
“But they won’t be scrumptious if I don’t have any?” Caleb teased. Then he grew serious. “Adam asked me to keep an eye on things while they’re gone, but I have to take a mare down to the vet—can’t wait. Jesse’s close by if you need him—I’ve got him working in the equipment shed until I get back. Uncle Dirt is in the house, too, but you guys be careful, okay?”
He tipped his hat to Maddy, gave a rueful glance at the profiteroles-to-be, and left.
Maddy exchanged looks with Lacey.
“Why does Adam need Caleb to watch out for us?” Lacey asked.
Maddy shrugged and didn’t answer, but it was obviously because of Brock. Two weeks since they’d broken up, and he was still looking out for her.
And yet he was gone for the whole day, maybe more, and had said nothing. Then again, it was Saturday and she wasn’t in the office, so why should he tell her? Why should he tell her anything these days?
No, Maddy, she scolded herself. The Lord is looking out for you, whether Adam is or not. Don’t worry about the rest.
She let Lacey’s talk brighten her mood again and tried to keep her mind off Adam.
“Brad’s going to ride at the Palisade rodeo. I’m going to tag along as his groupie,” Lacey confided, once they slid the profiteroles into the oven.
Maddy grinned. “A groupie, huh? Screaming and throwing panties at him? I thought that were just for rock stars.”
Lacey scoffed. “Screaming, maybe. Panties, definitely not! Mostly just making sure he knows I’m there and cheering him on. And rodeo has its own rock stars, you know. The bull riders and bronc riders, the barrel racing champs.”
“You ever want to be one of those?”
“Nah. Too much stress. I just want to ride horses and watch calves being born. And cook!”
“Speaking of which,” Maddy said, turning to check the oven timer. “These are going to have to cool, but we’ll want the bowl and beaters to be chilled for the filling.”
“I’ll do it!” Lacey washed the beaters and put them in the fridge with the metal mixing bowl.
Maddy smiled at the girl’s excitement. “You know, somewhere around here…” If she could find it, she had an heirloom to show Lacey. She dug into cupboards, shifting some things around and pulling others completely out.
She finally cried, “Aha!” and successfully retrieved an appliance from a cupboard corner. By that time, the counters and floor held a cast-iron skillet, a pasta maker, and four sizes of muffin tins. “I can’t believe I brought all this with me,” she said, looking at the mess.
“I think it’s cool,” Lacey said. “But what’s that?”
Maddy turned the appliance over in her hands. “It’s a pizzelle maker. We make special Christmas pastries with it. I didn’t think of it before because we’re nowhere near Christmas, but I thought you’d like to see it.”
She showed Lacey the patterns on the inside and started to explain the thin, not-too-sweet cookie it created, but the phone rang instead.
“Maddy?” came Uncle Dirt’s voice. “I just got a weird phone call from Tasha down at the pizza place. She said a guy came in with your picture and she told him you were up here, but then she had second thoughts and wanted to tell you about it. Does that make sense to you? Who would be going around with your picture?”
Maddy couldn’t get a sound out. Her eyes flitted from the front door to the windows to Mia’s room.
“Maddy? What’s wrong?” Uncle Dirt asked.
She opened and closed her mouth a few times, then shook her head. “Trouble. Can you come?” She hung the phone up. “Mia, where are you?”
“In here, coloring,” Mia called back.
Maddy spun around. What to do? Keys, she needed her car keys. “Mia, come on!” she yelled.
Why were her hands so heavy? Oh, they still held the pizzelle maker. She needed to put it somewhere. Why couldn’t she think where to put it?
“Maddy, talk!” Lacey insisted.
A footstep sounded on the porch, and they both turned their heads.
Maddy shook. “Go get Uncle—”
The door burst open. Brock stood in the doorway, hands held rigidly away from his body and anger contorting his face.
Maddy dropped the pizzelle maker.
40
Adam scanned the high country as he rode. The cows and calves had settled into the summer range fine, dividing into smaller groups and browsing happily on grass. Nobody injured, nobody dead, and no cat marks on the tree trunks.
They rode on, searching for tracks or other sign and checking small clusters of cattle along the way. “If there were a cougar threatening, the cows would be huddled together,” Dad said.
Adam nodded and nudged Mister to follow his father, grateful that the older man seemed his usual self today. As long as he didn’t get lost again, could Dad be better out with the animals instead of doing the behind-the-scenes work? It wouldn’t be hard to arrange assignments so his father was out with the hands most of the time. He could check water and fences, monitor the stock, maybe even help Caleb with the horses.
“Hey, Micah,” Adam called, reining Mister in.
“Yeah? Find a problem?”
“No, just wondering about something. Did the doctor say anything about limiting the hours Dad works? Does he need to rest in the afternoon or something?”
“Hmm,” Micah said after a moment. “I can’t remember anything like that. What are you thinking?”
Adam pointed out how well Dad was doing this whole day and shared his plans.
“Still trying to organize everyone, huh?” Micah said. “I think you need to review the definition of letting go.”
“Gimme a break. This is me trying to involve you in the decisions. What do you think about keeping Dad outside most of the time? And would we need to schedule things so he can take a midday break?”
Micah stared at him. “Wow, you really are asking for input!”
“If I were closer, I’d slug you right now,” Adam quipped.
“If you were closer, you’d still miss,” Micah shot back, grinning. “But Dad?” He looked ahead to where the older man was riding toward a grouping of cows. “I think you’re right—he’s happier out her
e. More relaxed. And it would help keep him away from the checkbook, right?”
“And the land leases. And the taxes. And—” Adam cut his words off. An uneasiness filled him suddenly, a jittering in his stomach that wouldn’t go away.
Micah looked at him with concern. “What’s up?”
Adam shook his head. “Just a weird feeling. It’s nothing.” He peered through the surrounding trees just the same.
“You sure? Sometimes you gotta follow those feelings.”
“No, I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the mountain lion. But what am I supposed to do about it that I’m not already doing?”
They rode on.
Adam looked at cattle, pleased with their contentment and good condition. He enjoyed the calves frolicking, the red-tailed hawks floating above, the smell of fresh mountain air. But he was still unsettled.
Was he missing signs of the big cat? Was there something he should be noticing about the cattle? The grass was good, everyone was healthy. He didn’t see signs of any large predators—no bear scat, no claw marks on trees.
Anything you’re trying to tell me, God? He grimaced at the thought—the Lord hadn’t been exactly generous with advice lately.
Then the uneasiness turned to dread. A sense of doom washed over him, made him almost cringe. What? What was it?
Maddy’s in trouble.
It came in words in his mind, not a general thought, not a feeling. Actual words. Out of the blue. Maddy was in trouble.
He had to get to her. Now.
“Something’s wrong with Maddy,” he shouted to Micah, not caring that his brother wouldn’t understand. “I have to go!” He spun Mister around and kicked him into a run.
It would take well over an hour at a hard gallop to get back to the ranch. Mister was in pretty good shape, but could he go that far, that fast?
Adam didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter. All he knew was that he had to reach Maddy.
“You think you can hide from me, Maddy Johnston? A wife can’t just run away from her man.” Brock took a step inside.