The Rancher's Redemption

by Myra Johnson

  Erin laughed as she tied a big bow at Avery’s waist. “For the millionth time, yes. I wouldn’t dream of missing your program.”

  “And then I’m going to Eva’s and we’re going to have so much fun. Did you finish packing my suitcase yet?”

  “I’ll do it as soon as I get home from the gift shop later.”

  Erin still had her own packing to do, as well. Avery was so eager to spend the next few days with Eva at Serenity Hills that Erin agreed she could go home with the Austins following this afternoon’s graduation program. Erin welcomed a little quiet time tonight to get her thoughts in order, and then she’d leave for Dallas first thing in the morning. She also looked forward to seeing Carla Perez again and soaking up the older woman’s wisdom and reassurance before the trial began on Monday.

  Avery buckled on her white patent Mary Janes. “Can Mr.—I mean Kent—can he come to my program, too?”

  After Erin’s disheartening encounter with Kent on Tuesday, she briefly considered asking her daughter to revert to calling him Mr. Ritter again. But then she’d have to explain why, and she didn’t have the words. “I’m afraid not, sweetie. He’s very busy right now.”

  “I wish he could, though.” Slumping to the kitchen, Avery muttered, “Other daddies are coming.”

  “Avery Dearborn.” Erin caught up with her daughter and drew her to a halt. “Honey, Kent is not your daddy. He’s just a—a—” What? Erin wasn’t sure she even knew anymore. She dropped to one knee and gripped Avery’s shoulders. “I know you’ve grown attached to Kent, and I understand how much you miss having a dad who’s good and kind and always there for you. I pray every day for that very thing. So let’s just be patient, okay? And always trust that God is working out His very best for us.”

  Avery’s half-hearted shrug and downturned lips said she didn’t think much of Erin’s response. By the time Erin dropped her at school, though, she was bubbling over again about the program.

  The morning at the gift shop proved to be a quiet one, which didn’t help Erin’s fretful mood. When she’d dusted the same display shelf for the third time, Wanda yanked the feather duster from her hand. “Honey, if you really want to get the trial off your mind, come sit down and let’s hammer out that partnership arrangement you keep putting me off about.”

  “Oh, Wanda, I’m still not sure—”

  “I’m sure enough for the both of us. Already got some advice from my lawyer, so let me at least outline my ideas. You can mull them over for a few days, and when you’re back in town next week, we can sign on the dotted line.”

  Heart swelling, Erin offered yet another silent prayer of gratitude for the amazing opportunities her new life in Juniper Bluff had offered. But would her growing self-confidence help her stand tall and unflinching when she faced Payne next week? Dear God, give me strength!

  Her thoughts were spinning wildly when she returned home later to down a quick sandwich and finish packing. It was a good thing she had Avery’s school program to bring her back to earth. She laughed and applauded as the graduating first graders performed poetry, skits and musical numbers for parents and friends. Miss Adams then handed each child a scroll tied with a red ribbon and pronounced them ready for second grade.

  “And, children, I have some happy news,” the teacher said. “At least it’s happy news for me, and I hope it will be for you. I’m moving up to teach second grade next fall, so many of you will still be my students.”

  A chorus of excited cheers went up from the class, including from Avery and Eva.

  “Yesss!” Christina, seated next to Erin, pumped her fists. “Seth and I have been praying the administration would grant Miss Adams’s request. Eva took some convincing to attend public school, and the continuity will help so much.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be good for Avery, too. Our move to Juniper Bluff has been an adjustment.” Erin reached for her purse. “By the way, thank you again so much for taking care of Avery for me. I have some emergency numbers here in case you need them.” She handed Christina a folded slip of paper.

  Seth reached beneath his chair for his hat. “Eva’s been bouncing off the walls waiting for this weekend. We’ll all have a great time.”

  After saying goodbye to Miss Adams and collecting their daughters, Erin and the Austins strode out to the parking area. Erin transferred Avery’s pink suitcase to the Austins’ minivan, then gave her daughter a big hug and kiss. “Be very, very good and do whatever Mr. and Mrs. Austin tell you, okay?”

  “I will, Mom.” Avery cocked her head. “Are you going to cry?”

  “Maybe a teensy bit.” Erin gave a shaky laugh and brushed away the tear she’d failed to hold back. This was her first time being away from her daughter for more than a single night. Apparently, Avery was handling it much better than her mother.

  “You’ll be okay, Mom,” Avery said in her best grown-up voice. Her tiny mouth puckered in a thoughtful frown. “Tell Daddy I’m praying to Jesus to make him be good.”

  Now Erin’s tears flowed in earnest. “If I get the chance, I certainly will tell him, honey.” She kissed her daughter again, then waved as Avery climbed in next to Eva. “I love you, baby. See you soon.”

  At home later, Erin almost couldn’t bear the quiet. She was used to being home alone after work while Avery was at school, but this felt different, like the end of something—what, she wasn’t sure. More than once, she fought the urge to call Kent and share the news about her talk with Wanda. If only he knew how badly she needed to hear his voice and to be reassured he hadn’t completely cut her out of his life.

  With her luggage packed and sitting by the door to the garage, she filled the rest of the afternoon with random cleaning and vacuuming. Too on edge to eat supper, she threw half her microwave entrée down the disposal. After an hour or so of mindless TV, she crawled into bed with a new mystery novel she hoped would distract her.

  A few minutes after nine, her phone rang. When Kent’s name flashed across the display, her heart raced. She answered with a quavery “Hello?”

  “Hope I didn’t wake you.” He sounded as uncertain as she felt. “Couldn’t let you leave for Dallas without saying goodbye.”

  Goodbye? Erin prayed he didn’t mean it literally. “I’m trying to think of it as a mini vacation—at least until Monday.” She struggled to keep her tone light. “But I’ll miss being there when you show Mrs. Thompson and her dad around. You’re doing such a good thing for them.”

  “Hope it’s as helpful as Mrs. Thompson is counting on.” Kent cleared his throat. “So, anyway, have a safe trip... Good night.”

  The call-ended tone sounded in her ear. Erin held the phone at arm’s length, her emotions an eddy of doubt and confusion. He’d taken the time to call, which had to mean something... Didn’t it?

  * * *

  He shouldn’t have called. But he missed her like crazy, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself.

  The Memorial Day barbecue had been a wake-up call, though. A reminder that, ten years later, Kent had never completely recovered from his wartime service. Didn’t he still jump every time a gunshot sounded from one of the hunting leases across the hills? Or when he heard a crack of thunder or a car backfire or a door slam too hard?

  As for fireworks, he’d learned long ago that on New Year’s Eve and the Fourth of July he needed to stay as far away from the festivities as he could get. He’d already talked with Pastor Terry about his Memorial Day episode, and the pastor had apologized profusely for failing to warn Kent that fireworks had been planned.

  Yet, even with the pastor’s assurance that this didn’t have to become a major setback, Kent couldn’t shake his disappointment in himself. If he could be so easily undone by something most people considered fun, how could he ever hope to be a normal husband and father? Kids loved fireworks, and families did things together. He didn’t want to be the dad who made excuses to stay home alone
while his wife and kids went out and embraced life.

  Sure, Erin would try hard to understand. But he’d seen the pity in her eyes when she’d come by the hardware store on Tuesday, and he’d known in that moment that he couldn’t saddle her with his issues. He needed to let her go—if only he could find the strength.

  Sitting at his kitchen table, he opened his laptop to check his email. The first one to pop up was a lengthy message from his mom with news about the goings-on back home. He’d told his parents about needing to fix up his house for the sesquicentennial and that Mrs. Thompson’s upcoming visit with her dad had shortened his timetable. He’d also mentioned “a friend” had been helping him redecorate. Good thing he hadn’t let on how his feelings for Erin had grown or Mom would be after him for more details—and probably planning the rehearsal dinner for a wedding that would never happen.

  He skimmed a couple of ranching e-newsletters he subscribed to, flagged an online bill to pay in the next few days and then came upon another message from Jean Thompson.

  Just a note to let you know Dad and I left this morning for Texas. We’re taking it slow and stopping often. I have hotel reservations for Monday night in Fredericksburg, and if it’s still all right with you, we will drive over to Juniper Bluff on Tuesday. Would a 10:00 a.m. visit be convenient for you?

  Kent had already requested the day off from the hardware store, so he typed a quick reply saying ten o’clock on Tuesday would be fine. Clicking the send button, he leaned back and let his gaze wander the newly redone kitchen—such a change from the day he’d received Mrs. Thompson’s first letter nearly two months ago. From the sunshine-yellow walls, to the calico curtains, to the quirky twig fruit basket in the center of the table, every detail whispered Erin’s name.

  By Tuesday night, he just might have to move out of the house and take up residence in the barn.

  Chapter Fifteen

  After several hours on the road, Erin was exhausted when she finally arrived at Carla’s. Her friend wrapped her in a warm embrace, then sent her to the guest room for a nap. She awoke later to the aroma of Carla’s homemade chicken enchiladas and found her way to the kitchen.

  “Come sit down.” Carla filled a glass with iced tea. “Thought you might sleep right on till tomorrow.”

  Still shaking off the grogginess, Erin covered a yawn. “Wish I could sleep through the next few days and wake up to find the trial is over and done with.”

  A scowl darkened Carla’s usually smiling face. “I pray with all my heart that man gets what’s coming to him.” She dished out servings of enchiladas onto their plates. “The assistant DA deposed me a few days ago. I told him all about the last time I saw you, after Payne made you stop our lessons. Plus, I mentioned all the other times I suspected something wasn’t right.”

  Erin pushed a bite of food around her plate. “Guess I wasn’t as good at hiding it as I thought.”

  “Oh, you were good, all right. But my late husband had a mean streak, too, and I saw some of myself in you.”

  “Carla, I had no idea.” Erin’s gaze slid toward the hallway and a portrait Carla had said was taken on their thirty-fifth anniversary. Mr. Perez had died of a heart attack two years later. “But you stayed with him.” It was a statement but also a question.

  The woman shrugged while slowly chewing a bite of enchilada. “It was a long time ago. I didn’t know I had choices. But you and I are both free now. And I am so proud of you for taking a stand against the likes of Payne Dearborn.”

  Erin was proud of herself, too. Proud to have found the courage to testify, and proud of discovering she actually could stand on her own two feet to support herself and her daughter.

  But was she wrong to want more? To dream of sharing her life with a man as kind and good and true as Kent Ritter? “Carla... I’ve met someone. I think I’m in love with him.”

  “Oh, honey. Be careful.” The older woman’s gaze narrowed with chagrin. “Tell me honestly, when you first fell in love with Payne, could you have guessed what it would lead to?”

  “No, not at first. I was too naive then to recognize the signs.”

  Carla’s tight lips conveyed her doubts. “I just hope your experience with Payne taught you something.”

  Thoughts swirling, Erin twisted the napkin in her lap. Had she truly learned her lesson about rushing into a relationship? Yes, Kent’s walk with the Lord seemed stronger every day. But was she still so terrified of being alone that she didn’t dare peek behind her hero’s “Mr. Perfect” mask?

  * * *

  On Tuesday morning, Kent awoke a full hour before the alarm. Crazy how today had him even more nervous than when the historical preservation people had come out... Maybe because Erin wasn’t here to support him?

  After feeding the horses and mucking out barn stalls, he saddled Jasmine and rode out to check on the herd and make sure all his calves were thriving. Back at the house, he yanked out a stray weed or two in the flower beds and swept the front and back porches. Inside, he ran the vacuum one more time for any last-minute traces of Skip’s shedding.

  Satisfied he had the house in good order, he got busy on himself. A few minutes after nine, clean-shaven and dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and his nicest jeans, he returned to the kitchen. In case his visitors cared for coffee, he rinsed out the coffee maker and added water and grounds to brew a fresh pot. Somewhere he’d read that the scent of baked goods made people feel more at home, but since he wasn’t much into baking, he dropped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster.

  The mantel clock had just struck ten o’clock when he heard a car in the driveway. Shooing Skip off the easy chair, he wadded up the ratty old dog blanket and stuffed it under the sofa. “Come on, boy, you’re going outside for a while.”

  Skip reluctantly followed Kent out the front door, which might not have been the wisest move because the dog decided to dig himself a cool spot in the dirt behind one of the mountain laurel bushes. Well, this was a ranch, after all, not Buckingham Palace. Kent blew out a sharp breath and started across the lawn.

  A tall, slender woman with silver-blond hair stepped from the sedan. “You must be Kent. It’s so good to finally meet you in person.”

  “You, too, ma’am. No trouble finding the place?”

  “None at all. And it looks so much like my childhood memories of visiting my grandparents that I couldn’t possibly miss it.” She bustled around to the passenger door, where a frail gentleman struggled to get out of the car. “Slow down, Daddy. I’ll help you.”

  Leaning heavily on a cane, Nelson Gilliam made his way around the car. He paused, throaty laughter erupting from his chest. “There’s my barn. And my house. Horses and cattle, too, just like in the old days.”

  “Yes, Dad. We’re here.” Tears choked Mrs. Thompson’s voice, and she cast Kent a grateful smile.

  Despite being stooped with age, Mr. Gilliam wasn’t a small man, but he stood even taller now, his face lighting up and a spring returning to his step. Both Kent and Mrs. Thompson had to hurry to keep up as he detoured to the barn. After he’d inspected every nook and cranny, he wanted to see the horses. Kent grabbed a handful of carrots from the barn refrigerator, then called Posey and Petunia over to the pasture gate so Mr. Gilliam could pet them and offer them treats.

  When the old man seemed to be tiring, Kent invited his guests to the house. After pouring three mugs of coffee, he joined them at the kitchen table.

  Mrs. Thompson took a careful sip from her mug. “Just look at him,” she whispered to Kent. “He hasn’t looked this bright and happy in months.”

  Seeing the utter contentment on Mr. Gilliam’s face certainly made the effort of the past few weeks worthwhile. After the man had rested a bit and they’d finished their coffee, Kent showed them through the rest of the house. Mr. Gilliam seemed to know his way around just fine, though, each room prompting another story or two from his days growing
up here.

  Back in the living room, Mr. Gilliam strode to the front door and stepped onto the porch. Gingerly, he lowered himself to sit on the top porch step, then patted the spot beside him. When his daughter scooted in next to him, he tucked an arm around her shoulders. “Right here,” he said, “is the very spot where I proposed to your mama. It was a summer day just like today, and when she said yes, I shouted so loud that my folks came a-runnin’ to see if I’d been snakebit.”

  Leaning against the rail a few feet away, Kent chuckled to himself as he envisioned the scene. Then thoughts of Erin made his heart twist. Lost in regrets and what-ifs, he hardly noticed when Mrs. Thompson approached.

  “I can’t thank you enough for letting us come.” She glanced at her father, still seated on the porch step and gazing out across the lawn. “And the house—you’ve truly made it into a home. It’s charming.”

  Kent owed every bit of that charm to Erin.

  Saying it was time to be on their way, Mrs. Thompson helped her father to his feet. Mr. Gilliam turned to Kent and locked his hand in a firm grip. “Jean says you served your country.”

  “I did, sir. Proudly.”

  “It takes a toll, though. Never was the same after I came home from Korea.” The man beamed a smile toward his daughter. “I’ve thanked God every day since for my dear wife and our wonderful children, because when those dark places call to you, family brings you back.”

  Throat aching, Kent could only nod.

  With more words of thanks, Mrs. Thompson linked her arm through her father’s to help him down the steps. Kent walked with them to the car, then waved as they drove away.

  Trudging to the house beneath the weight of exhaustion, he plopped down on the same step where Mr. Gilliam had been sitting minutes ago. Right here is the very spot where I proposed to your mama. Would Kent ever be able to say those words to a child of his own?

  When those dark places call to you, family brings you back.