by Lois Richer
“Thank you for the mints, Mr. Cowboy,” Beth said, her sweet smile lighting up her face. “And for everything. Mama said we wouldn’t have milk for a while. I love milk.”
“Oh. Good. Drink all you like.” Tanner smiled to hide his concern. Wouldn’t have milk? What did that mean?
“You can have milk with your pizza, Beth.” Sophie’s voice came out choked. She coughed, regrouped and thanked him again. “You certainly didn’t have to go to all this trouble, though. It’s only pizza.”
“Homemade pizza,” he clarified and winked. “I wanted to make sure I get seconds.”
“Seconds and probably thirds.” Sophie seemed tense, off-kilter, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted him here, in her home. “I have a couple of things to do before it’s ready. Would you like to talk to the kids in the other room?”
“I’d like to help, if I can.” He waited for instructions but it was clear Sophie preferred to have her kitchen space to herself because she shooed him away. “I’ll call when I’m ready,” she promised when he hesitated.
“Okay.” He followed the kids into the living room and agreed to play a game of checkers.
The coffee table wobbled when he pressed too hard on it and Sophie’s couch had some of the same issues Burt’s chair had suffered from, so after a few minutes on it Tanner moved to the floor. He saw a number of other problems in the little house that needed addressing—drooping wallpaper, a screen on a window that had come loose and, of course, the stair with the loosened carpet that Davy had tripped over the first time Tanner had visited.
He made a mental note of all of them, though he figured it would be pretty hard to fix them. Sophie seemed like one of those folks who had a lot of pride and wouldn’t welcome his notice of the problems in her home. Still, maybe with Davy’s help—
“The pizza’s ready if you’d like to come to the table.” Sophie glanced at him, something dark and worried lingering at the back of her gaze. Then her smile reappeared as her children hurried to the table. When everyone was seated she glanced at Davy. “Would you please say grace?”
Davy began to protest, then stopped, glanced at Tanner and bowed his head. “Thanks, God, for this good food and for Tanner bringing chocolate bars. In Jesus’s name, amen.”
“Amen.” Tanner stifled his chuckle and watched as Sophie lifted a huge pizza from the oven and set it on the table. His mouth watered just looking at it. He’d never known you could make a pizza look pretty. This one had happy faces all over it.
“Would you like some juice?” Sophie asked, the container of orange juice he’d bought in her hand.
“Just water for me, please. Unless you’ve made coffee?” She blinked in surprise, then shook her head. “Water is fine. Thank you.”
She served him the first piece, the kids next and then herself. Tanner waited until she was seated, amused to notice Davy hurriedly put down his pizza and waited, too.
“Please, go ahead,” Sophie said.
Tanner bit into his pizza, unable to speak for the flavors bursting on his tongue. When he asked about them and Sophie explained, Tanner simply listened to her musical voice, knowing he’d never remember what spices she listed. He was too busy enjoying her pretty face. Finally aware that she was watching him with a frown, he savored his pizza and the salad she’d made to go with it.
“I never thought of putting oranges or almonds in a salad but it’s delicious,” he said. “You have an amazing gift with food, Sophie Armstrong.”
“I don’t think it’s a gift,” she demurred, cheeks hot pink. “I just know how to cook.”
“That’s a gift. A great one.” He leaned back in his chair, replete for now. “If you hadn’t already done it, I would have suggested you choose cooking as a vocation. Your return rate for customer satisfaction must be amazing.”
“I could take on more jobs if I had more time, more equipment and a bigger kitchen,” she admitted. She glanced at her children. “Maybe someday I will.” When she couldn’t coax anyone to eat the last three slices, she lifted the pan off the table. “Ready for dessert?”
“What is it?” Davy asked as Tanner’s stomach groaned.
“Banana splits.” She set round dishes in front of each of them—not a traditional split but better, much better, Tanner decided as he sampled his portion.
“This is good, Mama.” Beth’s cheeks were smeared with chocolate sauce but her face glowed with happiness.
“It certainly is, Beth.” Tanner frowned. “But you hardly have any, Sophie. Here, take some of mine.” He was about to scoop some into her dish when she blocked him.
“This is plenty, thank you.” She flushed. “Chocolate heads directly for my hips.”
“Does it do that to mine?” Beth twisted to get a better look at her backside.
“Not yet,” Sophie assured her, eyes dancing.
Tanner thought her laughter filling the kitchen was the loveliest sound he’d ever heard.
The children finished their dessert, then cleared the table while Sophie made a pot of her delicious coffee.
“I wish I knew how to make this,” he said after swallowing his third cup. “There has to be some secret you’re not telling me about because the stuff I made this morning, according to your directions, didn’t bear the slightest resemblance to this.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” She studied him for a moment. Tanner felt as if a current ran between them. It gave him an odd feeling, one he’d never had before. He was relieved when she jumped up to wash the dishes. He helped with cleanup, startled by the electricity that sparked when their gazes met or their hands touched. Those sparks were enjoyable.
“Aren’t you ever going to be finished?” Davy asked plaintively. “When I do them—”
“Don’t go there, son,” Tanner warned him with a wink.
“No, because next time it’s your turn, Davy.” Sophie laughed at his glower. “We’re finished.” She rinsed out her dishcloth and hung it on the sink, took the last dish from Tanner and set it in the cupboard. “Let the games begin.”
Tanner had never played many board games so he lost most of the time, even though Beth tried to help him. Midway through Sophie made popcorn and cocoa and Tanner crunched on the warm buttery corn in between answering questions about the ranch. When he lost all his play money he knew it was time to go.
“I don’t know how you won,” he said to Beth, chucking her cheek with one finger.
“She always wins,” Davy complained.
“It’s because Beth is patient. You are too much like me. We want what we want now. Our way.” Sophie’s rueful words were accompanied by a wry grimace. “Bethy makes the best of what comes.”
“I’ll share my money with you, Mr. Cowboy.” The little girl shoved a pile of paper money toward him. Tanner’s heart melted.
“That’s very kind of you, Beth. You keep it safe for us, okay? It’s time for me to go home.” He rose, hating to leave this family for the loneliness of the ranch house. His gaze rested on Sophie. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner, a delicious dessert and a fun time. I enjoyed myself very much.”
“I’m glad.” She rose and walked with him to the door, handing him the hat he’d hung on her coat rack. “Come again.”
Tanner thought the words were rote, said out of politeness, but he grabbed at them anyway.
“Thank you. I’d like that.” He studied her, one arm wrapped around each child. “You’re a blessed woman, Sophie. And so are your kids. You have each other and that’s a lot.” Before he revealed his envy of her, Tanner dragged open the sticky door. Another project. “Good night.”
“Good night,” they called.
He climbed in his truck, started the engine, but sat there for a moment, watching as the front door closed, the downstairs lights snapped off and the bedroom lights winked on.
/> What would it be like to have someone like Sophie in your life with a family who was always there for you?
Tanner drove home imagining someone with Sophie’s laugh waited for him at Wranglers Ranch.
Chapter Five
The homeschoolers’ visit to Wranglers Ranch was like nothing Sophie expected, mostly because Tanner’s efforts outdid her highest hopes for the afternoon.
After a general welcome, he escorted the students on a ramble around the ranch that the children in wheelchairs could easily handle. He paused periodically at stations he’d specifically set up to illustrate different aspects of ranch life.
“Wranglers Ranch is home to a small flock of Navajo-Churro sheep,” he explained. The curious children gathered around him, eager to touch the lamb he held before they moved on to examine multicolored balls of wool spilling out of a handwoven basket. “We sell the wool to artists who use it for their work. On a ranch it’s important to have different sources of income.”
Sophie’s appreciation for the cowboy grew when, after they arrived at the horse station, he hunkered down to answer the smallest child’s query.
“That’s a good question,” he praised the disabled boy. “We put those hoods on our horses’ heads to keep out flies. If we don’t, the flies will lay their eggs in the animals’ eyes. That would make them really sick and sometimes cause blindness. We want our horses to be healthy.”
Tanner’s explanation about the brook’s importance drew giggles when he said its most important function was to cool off cowboys on hot summer days. He introduced Moses, who delighted the children by escorting them to the remains of an old covered wagon that had once rumbled through Wranglers Ranch. Sophie found herself listening to the man’s history lesson as carefully as the children did. Their rapt expressions made their formerly dubious parents smile with approval. Sophie was glad she’d suggested the ranch to the homeschool association. Positive word of mouth from these moms and dads could help Tanner gain new clients.
“Can we come back and ride your horses sometime?” Beth’s friend Bertie asked in a loud voice. “I want to ride the white horse and go really fast.”
“You’ll have to ask your parents about coming back, Bertie.” Tanner winked at Sophie. “But maybe you should choose a different horse. Methuselah doesn’t go very fast because he’s quite old. Actually he’s a grandfather so mostly we let him eat and rest.”
“Oh.” Quieted for the moment, talkative Bertie fell into step with Beth as Tanner continued the tour. At the completion of it, when the cowboy had finally answered all the kids’ questions, their host invited the group to enjoy lemonade and a snack on his new patio.
After ensuring everyone had been served, Sophie turned to find Tanner next to her, offering a glass of lemonade. “Thank you.”
“No problem. Thank you for making all these snacks. This should cover it.” He held out a check.
“Tanner, I don’t expect you to pay for food I made for our homeschool group.” Relieved that the parents weren’t near enough to overhear, Sophie shook her head in refusal.
“I insist. It’s important for Wranglers to track all its expenses. If we know how much our programs cost it will allow us to plan more effectively. Today’s visit is a great opportunity to see how our plans worked out.”
“But—”
“Also, if future visitors bring food to Wranglers, it will cause a whole mess of issues with the health department.” His megawatt grin made Sophie’s heart rate soar. “But you’re a licensed caterer. Your home-cooked treats make our experience more authentic. Believe me, that’s worth paying for.”
“Tanner, you’ve done more than enough by letting us visit,” she protested but his smile only grew as he pressed her fingers around the check. He pulled his hand away, then he turned his focus to the trays of treats she’d laid out on a nearby table. After several moments’ deliberation he chose a brownie.
“This is amazing,” he said after he’d tasted it.
“Personally I like the lemon bars better.” Sophie shrugged. “But then I’m not a chocolate addict.”
“Like me, you mean?” He chuckled when she wrinkled her nose in dismay at blurting that out. “That’s the only kind of addict I don’t mind being.” Something in the tone of his words made Sophie realize that Tanner’s past still troubled him, but she lost that thought when he asked hesitantly, “Do you really think the visit went well?”
“Far better than I ever imagined,” she assured him. “Moses was a hit and those stations with your explanations really helped the kids appreciate the past and present at Wranglers.”
“The stations were your son’s idea.” Tanner took another brownie, smiling at her surprise.
“Davy?” She blinked at his nod. “How could he...?” Confused, Sophie waited for an explanation.
“He talked to some of the kids who came here with the church youth group the other night and realized that many of them had no idea about life on a modern-day ranch.” Tanner chuckled at the memory. “Davy confessed he didn’t, either, and pointed out that it would be a lot easier for him to help at Wranglers if he understood what we were trying to achieve. So he and I came up with those information stations. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, your boy.”
“Good to know.” Though he’d never said so, Sophie suspected her son longed to earn Tanner’s respect. “Davy has changed, thanks to you. I know he has a long way to go to prove himself, but even in the short time he’s been coming here, he’s grown less self-focused.”
“Because he feels needed,” Tanner suggested. “Everybody wants to feel like their presence is important to someone, that they have a place. I guess Wranglers is becoming Davy’s place.”
“I don’t think Davy’s the only one,” Sophie murmured as she glanced around the patio. Parents and children were happily sharing the beautiful space. “This was a good idea.”
“You didn’t think so at first, though, did you?” His grin dared her to refute it. “When you saw the men putting down the flagstones that day you weren’t impressed. But this—” He waved a hand. “This is what I wanted. A space for people to relax, enjoy God’s beauty and each other.”
“You have a lot of ideas about Wranglers’ future, don’t you, Tanner?” She knew that she’d underestimated him, hadn’t truly considered how he’d use the ranch to minister to kids. “What else would you like to accomplish?”
A strange curiosity welled inside Sophie, a need to share his hopes and dreams. Maybe because it seemed her own dreams would never happen, that she would never escape her desperate scramble to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table.
Tanner didn’t have to worry about those mundane things. His dreams could soar. Unlike her he had the means to achieve his goals. And strangely Sophie wanted to be part of that, though she didn’t want to get too close to him. Relationships were not part of her life plan.
“I’d like to figure out a way to keep a vet on staff full-time. The county is asking for a medical assessment on each abused horse we take in. It’s time-consuming, expensive and hard on the horse to transport, and that’s not even mentioning the difficulty of getting in to see a vet in the city. Most don’t want to come way out here.”
“Great idea,” she said. His gaze shifted to something distant, something she couldn’t see. “What else?”
“I’d like to build some cabins,” Tanner said. “So we could have overnighters.”
“Won’t that bring additional problems? I mean, sometimes street kids have issues.” She frowned, dubious about the idea.
“The whole idea of Burt’s camp is to help kids with issues. Everyone has issues, Sophie.” He studied her for a moment, then spoke in a quiet, husky tone. “Or maybe I’m just trying to recapture my childhood.”
“How so?” Curiosity about his past ballooned.
&nbs
p; “When I was ten, I went to summer camp.” His voice altered, his joy obvious in his sparkling smile. “It was the one and only time. I’ve never forgotten the experience because for a while, for one short week, it was okay just to be myself, a kid, and to have fun.”
A lump filled Sophie’s throat.
“Six of us stayed in a ramshackle leaky cabin with a counselor. It was a dump but I thought it was paradise. I could let myself sleep at night because the counselor was there protecting us.” A quirky smile lifted Tanner’s lips.
Sophie’s heart gave a bump at the sudden rush of attraction that surged inside her. The cut on his cheek she’d seen the day they’d met had almost completely disappeared. She thought perhaps making Burt’s dream live was helping Tanner heal in many ways.
“The best part wasn’t the sleeping, though,” he continued. “The best part came just before sleep. Everyone was in bed. The cabin was dark and quiet. That’s when the counselor would talk to us. Not preachy stuff, just telling us we were loved, encouraging us not to ever give up on our dreams. He’d urge us to resist the bad stuff we encountered, make us feel hopeful about our future. It was the first time I can ever remember feeling safe.”
He hadn’t felt safe until he was ten—almost Davy’s age. Sophie’s mother’s heart ached for that young boy who’d been so alone.
“I’ve hung on to those moments through some pretty tough times in my life.” Tanner smiled at her. “Those feelings—hope and safety—that’s what I want Wranglers to give kids. I want this place to show God to kids so they’ll yearn to know Him because He’s the answer to every seeking heart.”
“I think you’ll do it, Tanner.” How could she not support a dream like his? “There’s a lot of space on this ranch and plenty of little groves where cabins wouldn’t have to stick out.”
“I’m praying for someone, an architect maybe, to show me how to do that, but I need a lot of things in place before building cabins can happen.” He shrugged. “Like maybe—clients?”