Rancher to the Rescue

by Arlene James

  He had the broken bolt out and a hoist and chain rigged to take the weight of the engine when Ryder showed up.

  “Dinner’s on.”

  “Already?”

  “It’s past six.”

  Jake pulled out his phone and glanced at it. He never wore a wristwatch anymore. He’d broken too many crystal watch faces and demolished too many watchbands. His eyebrows shot up when he saw the time.

  “Wow. Okay. I’ll straighten up here and be in.”

  “Can I help?” Ryder asked.

  “Nah. Won’t take a minute.”

  “Kathryn’s made fajitas. Beef and shrimp.” He rubbed his flat belly with the palm of one hand before wandering over to lean against the tool chest, his arms crossed over its smooth top. “Thanks for the work gloves. They’re good ones.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Apparently, Rex told Wyatt about them, and he mentioned them to Tina.”

  “She sure takes care of him, doesn’t she?”

  He assumed that Ryder nodded, but he didn’t look until Ryder suddenly said, “I’m a little envious.” Jake shot a surprised glance at his brother. Ryder smiled sheepishly. “When you and Jolene married, I thought it was the dumbest thing you’d ever done.”

  “What?”

  “Well, I didn’t understand how marriage could be back then,” Ryder admitted.

  Jake sometimes forgot that Ryder was five years younger than him, just as Jake was five years younger than Wyatt. He chuckled. He’d married at twenty-three. Ryder hadn’t turned eighteen until a few weeks after the wedding. Strange, it felt a lot longer ago than seven years.

  “Jolene adored you,” Jake said, smiling. “Thought you were the cutest thing she’d ever seen. And it embarrassed you to no end.”

  Ryder grinned. “She liked to embarrass me.”

  “She did, but just because she was so fond of you. I thought for sure she was going to pair you up with that cousin of hers.”

  Ryder rolled his eyes. “No way!”

  “She was a pretty little thing.”

  “With blue hair. And what was with all that eye makeup?”

  Grinning, Jake said, “Sometimes I think you’re the most conservative Smith of all.”

  Ryder shrugged. “I just always wonder, what would Mama think?”

  Sobering, Jake nodded. He was never sure how much Ryder remembered about their mother. He’d only been five when they’d lost her.

  “Mom would be proud of you,” Jake told him.

  “I hope so.” Ryder’s gaze slid away, and Jake feared he was thinking about the death of his former sparring partner Bryan Averett. Though it had been nothing more than a freak accident, Jake suspected Ryder still blamed and condemned himself for what had happened.

  “Mom would like Tina,” Ryder announced. “And Kathryn, too.”

  Jake’s gaze zipped over to his brother again. Ryder gave him a lopsided smile.

  “You found a good one there, bro.”

  Shocked, Jake struggled not to react more than he should. “I think she’ll be a big help around here.”

  Ryder gave him a knowing look. “Uh-huh.”

  With that, he turned and strolled away. Jake gaped at his little brother as he exited the barn. Had Ryder just let him know that he’d recognized Jake’s interest in Kathryn and approved? But Ryder didn’t understand.

  Kathryn wasn’t anything like Jolene. Besides, he wasn’t ready. Maybe if he were stable financially, not solely dependent on the ranch and Wyatt’s efforts, he could think about... He didn’t know what he was thinking or doing anymore, let alone what God was doing.

  Jake passed a hand over his face. Part of him wanted to run back to Houston. Part of him wanted to watch Kathryn’s eyes soften again and her lips curl into a shy, hopeful smile.

  It’s only been two years, he reminded himself. She was nothing like Jolene, and he didn’t have the money or the time for romance.

  Resolved yet again, Jake put away his tools, walked to the house and took his place at the table next to Kathryn.

  Chapter Seven

  Tina rebuffed Kathryn’s efforts to clean up the kitchen. “You’ve been here long enough today. Go home. Relax. We’ll see you on Monday.”

  Frankie didn’t share Tina’s sentiment. “KKay, do my bath.”

  Wyatt scooped up Frankie and tossed the boy over his shoulder, sending Frankie into shrieks of delight. “Doesn’t old Uncle Wyatt get a turn to splash water in your face? Besides, we need to clean up your nose. Maybe then you can smell your stinky self.”

  Frankie clapped both hands over his nose, laughing and protesting at the same time. “Don’ clean by nodes!”

  Wyatt carted the boy off to the bathroom, shouting at Tyler to join them. Kathryn laughed and waved. Frankie waved back with his free hand.

  Overhearing Jake’s comments earlier had made Kathryn rethink her behavior. Did she act as proud and skittish around Jake and his family as he’d implied? She very much feared that she did, but no one and nothing in her experience had prepared her for the casual openness and generosity with which this family treated her.

  Even before her mother’s accident, Kathryn had been shy and careful around others, unwilling to join in group activities. She’d always felt that taking care of things herself was often easier than depending on others. Easier and safer. Kathryn had an abhorrent fear of appearing foolish and incapable. The more she kept to herself, the less reason she had to fear making a misstep. Like Jake, her mother had seen that as pride.

  In the past, her fear and pride had driven her to refuse help even when she’d needed it. These Smiths had taught her a thing or two about that. She couldn’t imagine a more informed or capable person than Tina, but even she needed help, and Kathryn knew she could be that help. So did Jake. He’d known it before she had.

  Kathryn retrieved her bag and looked to Jake. “Ready when you are.”

  He stuck his left hand in the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out his keys. Kathryn called a farewell to Tina and walked through the door ahead of him, feeling his hand settle into the small of her back as they moved down the outside steps. Her stupid heart flip-flopped inside her chest, but she did her best to ignore it. He meant nothing with his small touches and polite smiles. In fact, sometimes she thought he barely tolerated her. He’d been quick to spare her feelings, though.

  “My mother used to tell me I was too proud,” she blurted as Jake reached around her to open the passenger door of his truck.

  He looked as shocked by her comment as she was. “Hey. Listen. I—I didn’t mean anything negative by what I said to Tina earlier. I was just concerned that we not, uh, offend you.”

  Kathryn smiled wryly at that. “Embarrass me, you mean.”

  “No. That’s not—”

  “You got it right,” she interrupted gently, bolstering her courage. “I couldn’t in good conscience accept the use of a vehicle from your family, not after all you’ve already done for me. I mean, unless it would benefit you. A-all of you. I mean, you’re the one who drives me everywhere. Y-you and Tina.”

  He pulled the door open, concentrating on the handle as if it required a complicated maneuver to make that happen. “Ten minutes here or there. No big deal.” As she climbed up into the passenger seat of the truck, he added, “Besides, it’s only right that we help you out when you’re doing so much to help us. Tina and Frankie, I mean. Well, me, too, when you think about it, I guess.”

  Kathryn shook her head. “It’s not the same. You’re paying me. It’s my job to help you. Besides, I could walk back and forth to the ranch. It’s not that far.”

  He settled a stern look on her, his face turning to stone. “I won’t hear of you walking, not in this heat. And not when the drive takes so little time.”

  She nodded, telling herself not to feel so pleased as he closed t
he door and moved around the truck. He was a good, kind, Christian man. His care and generosity meant nothing except that he tried to follow the precepts of Christ Jesus. It felt personal, though, which meant that she was likely having personal feelings about him. Oh, who was she kidding? She’d be mooning over Jacoby Smith day and night if she didn’t watch herself.

  She’d daydreamed about boys in the past, wondered how it would be if they’d liked her as much as she’d liked them, but she’d always backed away when they’d gotten too close. She was sure that if they’d truly come to know her, they’d have found her as boring as dishwater. That, sadly, hadn’t changed.

  “So,” he said in a conversational tone, sliding behind the steering wheel, “got any plans for the weekend?”

  Kathryn nearly laughed. When had she ever had plans for the weekend? She went nowhere and did nothing. She couldn’t even call herself a wallflower because she’d have to go somewhere social before she could wind up hiding in a corner. She wasn’t pathetic enough to say that, however, so she settled for a negative shake of her head.

  His expression blank, he concentrated on backing around the truck and moving it out onto the highway. After several minutes of silence, he abruptly said, “Thought maybe you’d have a date or something.”

  “Uh, no. Fact is, I’ve never been on a date.”

  He looked... She couldn’t decide if he was stunned or angry. The next moment, his brows drew together and his lips flattened as if he were in pain, but then he blew out a breath and nodded crisply.

  “Oh. Well. You must not see too many movies then.”

  “Nothing you can’t find on TV. I haven’t been to a movie theater in years.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said. “You should go with me, then. Us. Me and Frankie, I mean.”

  Frankie. Ah. She would be overseeing Frankie at the theater, making sure his father could enjoy the movie. Or something. Refusing to acknowledge her disappointment, she pondered the situation. Would Frankie be content to sit still and quiet through a whole movie? She doubted it. Even when he was sitting quietly he was moving, swinging his legs or twisting his body in time to some tune only he could hear, and he naturally spoke in a near shout. Tina had told her that children whose linguistic skills hadn’t yet fully developed often did that in a misguided effort to make themselves understood. Shouting, after all, usually drew a quick response. Kathryn figured she’d probably wind up walking him around the theater lobby while his dad enjoyed the movie. Still, even babysitting at the movie theater would be a welcome change from her usual weekend routine.

  Her mind began whirling. She needed to look as presentable as possible. Jake, after all, was her boss. One of them, anyway. She didn’t want to embarrass him or herself.

  “What do people wear to movies these days?”

  He shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know. Pretty much anything and everything, I guess. Jeans, dresses...date clothes, I suppose. That is, anything you’d wear, like, on a date.”

  And there was the problem. At this point in time, she had work clothes and little else. She’d had no need for anything more. Still, given enough time, she could devise something. With her sewing machine at the ranch, however, she’d have to start the alterations by hand and finish them during work breaks.

  Gathering her courage, she meekly asked, “Would it be possible to put it off a week or so?”

  “Oh, sure,” he said quickly, nonchalantly. “I just meant we should go sometime. Taking Frankie to the movies by myself is an exercise in futility. But it can wait.”

  “So, next weekend then?”

  He waved a hand. “Next weekend’s fine.”

  “Fine,” she echoed, already going through her wardrobe in her mind. Or rather, her mother’s wardrobe.

  Kathryn had grown taller and filled out since she’d left school, so she could no longer wear the clothes of her youth, not that they’d have been appropriate now. Her mother had owned a lot of nice things, though, and they were close enough in size that she could alter them, even update them a bit. Often, she didn’t bother to make the alterations. Who cared how she looked when she was cleaning or cooking anyway? This time, she cared. This time it was more about style than utility.

  Date clothes.

  “Should I pick you up for church on Sunday?” Jake asked casually.

  She startled at the thought. Church clothes. She didn’t have any of those, either—nothing appropriate for a Sunday service, anyway. Maybe date clothes could do double duty as church clothes.

  “Um, not this week. I—I’ll be better prepared next week.”

  He accepted that easily, nodding. “Right.” He lifted a hand, spreading his fingers as if to say he was all out of questions, and they finished the trip in silence.

  “See you Monday morning then,” he said, bringing the truck to a stop.

  Kathryn reached for the door handle. She slid down to the ground and grabbed her bag off the floorboard before backing up a few steps, but then she just stood there awkwardly before blurting, “Have a good weekend!”

  “You, too!” he called heartily.

  She shut the truck door and hurried up onto the porch. Okay, so it wasn’t an actual date, but it was still the first opportunity she’d had in years—decades—to dress like it mattered. Somehow, it did matter, very much. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to know why it mattered. If she dwelled on that too long, she’d lose her nerve and find an excuse to just stay home.

  Her mind filled with possible plans and designs, she didn’t even hear the truck back out and drive away or remember unlocking her door and going inside. Suddenly she found herself standing in front of a closet, her gaze roaming over the garments crammed in there. It shouldn’t be anything too dressy or ornate, but of course it should be flattering. Very flattering. And contemporary. She didn’t want to look like she didn’t belong.

  She began pulling hangers off the rod and assessing each garment before either tossing it into a pile on the bed or returning it to the closet. A week. She had a week to knock Jake’s eyes out. Pausing, she corrected herself.

  She had a week to make herself presentable.

  Then Jake was taking her to a movie.

  She simply could not wipe the stupid grin off her face.

  * * *

  “KKay!”

  Kathryn quickly swept the dress she was working on into a rumpled heap of fabric when Frankie and Jake appeared in the laundry room. For two days, she’d been quietly working on the garment during her breaks and free moments. Hopefully they would think it nothing more than another pillow sham or slipcover. She felt guilty for working on the dress at the ranch, but she couldn’t ask Jake to tote her heavy old machine back and forth every day. Besides, she made sure to do everything Tina asked of her first. She’d tried to decide if she should cut the long sleeves out of the dress entirely or shorten them, but she remained uncertain. She thought about asking Jake his opinion, but it seemed too much of a personal decision. Maybe she could ask Tina.

  “Come out, KKay,” Frankie pleaded, drawing her attention back to the present.

  “He wants you to come out to the corral to watch him ride his pony,” Jake explained apologetically. “I tried to tell him you’re too busy, but we’re breaking in a new saddle, and he’s been working very hard.”

  Kathryn tried to hide the spurt of alarm that came with thinking of Frankie on horseback, but Jake saw right through her.

  “And, yes, we’ve taken all safety precautions.”

  “Oh.” Pushing back the wheeled desk chair, Kathryn leaned forward, bringing her face down to Frankie’s level. “What’s your pony’s name?”

  “Good Boy!” Frankie declared at the top of his lungs.

  Perplexed, Kathryn drew back.

  “You don’t have to shout,” Jake admonished. “Remember what we said about using your inside voice?”

  Frankie leaned to
ward Kathryn and in a voice barely above a whisper repeated, “Good Boy.”

  Still puzzled, Kathryn looked to Jake, whose lips wiggled suspiciously. “Good boy is something Tyler often says to his dog, Tipper. It’s an affectionate kind of thing, so Frankie has adopted it as his pony’s name.”

  Disciplining her own smile, Kathryn quickly bit her lips before calmly saying, “Good Boy is an excellent name for a pony. Or a dog.”

  Frankie turned to his father, clearly making an effort to moderate his volume, and asked plaintively, “S’when doggy?”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “When it’s weaned. Dr. Burns will let us know as soon as the puppies can leave their mother. They have to stay with her until they can eat solid food and get all their shots. Remember?” Shaking his head at Kathryn, he added, “I never should have taken him to see that litter.”

  Clearly dissatisfied with that answer, Frankie folded his arms. It was a gesture of Tyler’s that Kathryn often saw. Apparently, Jake recognized it, too. Reaching down, Jake brushed Frankie’s arms back to his sides.

  “Pouting won’t make the puppies grow any faster.”

  Clearly chastened, Frankie bowed his head.

  Kathryn shared a glance with Jake then reached out and turned Frankie by his shoulders, saying brightly, “Puppies are such fun. What are you going to name your pup?”

  “Doggy,” Frankie said, as if that ought to be obvious.

  “We’ll work on that,” Jake commented dryly.

  Kathryn bit her lips again to keep from laughing.

  “Your pony’s waiting,” Jake reminded Frankie.

  Kathryn quickly stood and offered her hand to the boy, who immediately grasped her fingers and tugged her toward the hallway.

  They walked out to the hot, dusty corral. Someone had disked up the dirt to cushion the hard surface, which the heat was busily baking hard again. The little round white pony with brown patches huffed and shifted its weight as Jake led Frankie into the pen. Kathryn stayed outside to lean against the metal-pipe fence.

  Jake tightened the girth on the saddle and buckled a helmet onto Frankie’s head, but instead of lifting Frankie into the seat, he had the boy grab the saddle horn and hop high enough to get the toe of his left shoe into the stirrup. He then assisted as Frankie threw his right leg over the pony’s back and settled in. The boy had some trouble finding the right stirrup, so Jake walked around, always keeping a hand on the little horse, and placed Frankie’s foot in the stirrup. Next, Jake simply reached out and untied the reins from a lower rail of the fence and handed them to Frankie.