by Marin Thomas
Once Ricky got the hang of the currycomb, Mack left him alone. Between grooming the other horses and organizing the riding equipment, he managed to walk past the barn opening but never saw Beth and Katy leave the main lodge.
“Who you looking for?” Ricky asked.
“Just making sure none of your friends are getting into trouble.”
“We’re not bad.”
“What do you mean?” Mack asked.
“Everyone thinks just because we live in a group home that we’re the worst of the worst and foster parents won’t even take us.”
Ricky’s comment caught Mack’s attention. “You’re saying that you’re not as tough as you want everyone to believe?”
Ricky shrugged. “I’m tough, but I’m not mean.”
“I believe you.” Mack nodded to the tack room. “C’mon. I’ll show you what you need to saddle a horse in case you decide to be a cowboy one day.”
“Why would I want to be a cowboy?” Ricky dogged Mack’s boot heels.
“You ever been to a rodeo?”
“What’s so special about rodeo?”
“It’s exciting, and you seem like the kind of guy who loves a physical challenge. You’re too big for mutton bustin’ but maybe we can find you a small steer to ride later today.” Mack chuckled. “You can decide if getting bucked off is worth the thrill of the ride.”
Ricky smiled. “Wanna bet I can hang on?”
“Sure. If you fall off, I get your dessert.”
“And if I don’t, you have to take me to a rodeo.”
The yearning for a male role model shone bright in Ricky’s eyes, and Mack felt bad that the kid didn’t have a family. “Okay. If you stay on the steer, we’ll go to a rodeo.”
* * *
“HOW OLD ARE YOU?”
Beth was taken aback by Katy’s question as they entered the main building that housed the ranch kitchen. “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to ask another lady’s age?”
“Why?” Katy’s big brown eyes widened. “I tell everyone I’m ten years old.”
“Most ladies don’t like growing old. That’s why we keep our age a secret.” Beth forced herself to relax in the little girl’s presence. She hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since Mack had asked her to marry him, and she’d turned him down flat. Even now when she recalled the frustrated expression on his face as he stormed from her cabin, she believed with all her heart she’d done the right thing. She loved Mack—enough to let him go. She just didn’t expect it to hurt this badly.
“José?” she called out before entering the kitchen. He stepped from the pantry. “Katy and I would like to bake cookies if we won’t be in your way.” José flipped through the pages of a cookbook before pointing to a recipe, then he left the room.
“Do you like chocolate-chip cookies?”
“I like any kind of cookies,” Katy said.
“Chocolate chip, it is.” Beth rummaged in the cupboards, setting out mixing bowls, baking sheets and measuring spoons and cups. “What temperature does it say to preheat the oven, Katy?”
The little girl squinted at the recipe book. Beth helped her out, indicating the temperature. “Three-fifty.”
After setting the oven temperature, Beth browsed the pantry shelves. “What if I read the recipe and you put the ingredients into the bowl?”
Katy dragged a chair to the counter and stood on the seat. “What do you want me to do first?”
“We need to decide how many cookies to make.”
“A lot.”
“We’ll triple the recipe. That means six eggs go in this bowl.” She set the largest mixing bowl in front of Katy. “Get cracking.”
Katy frowned. “How do I crack an egg?”
Beth thought it odd that a child Katy’s age had never cracked open an egg, but maybe the cook in the group home didn’t allow kids in the kitchen. Beth cracked the first egg and handed the next one to Katy. “How many girls are in the home with you?”
“Sally, Amber, Crystal, Cassy and Jennifer. They’re older than me and they’re not very nice.”
“Good job,” Beth said, after Katy finished with the eggs. She didn’t like hearing that Katy might be bullied at the home. She held out a measuring cup. “Six cups of sugar.”
“The other girls don’t like me.” Katy dumped the sugar into the bowl.
Before she realized her actions, Beth tucked a strand of hair behind Katy’s ear.
“Jennifer calls me an ugly duckling.”
Beth’s heart tumbled. Katy wasn’t a beautiful little girl, but she had big brown eyes and a nice smile. “Maybe they’re jealous of you and don’t want you to know it.” She pushed the flour bag closer. “Eight cups of flour.” When Katy grew quiet, Beth asked, “What happened to your family?”
“I don’t know. Mrs. Beanker says I was—”
“Who is Mrs. Beanker?”
“She’s the lady trying to find me a family.” Mrs. Beanker must be the social worker assigned to Katy’s case.
“She said my mom died when I was a baby, and she doesn’t know who my dad is.”
“I guess your mother didn’t have any family,” Beth said.
Katy shrugged.
“Have you ever lived with another family?”
“Mrs. Beanker says I had lots of families when I was a baby.” Katy set the measuring cup on the counter. “Now what?”
Beth handed her the measuring spoons. “Three tablespoons of vanilla.”
“Which one is the tablespoon?”
“The biggest one.”
After Katy added the vanilla flavoring into the mix, she set down the bottle of vanilla and hugged Beth. “Thank you.”
Beth couldn’t halt the tender feeling spreading through her and hugged Katy back. “They’re just cookies.”
“Not for the cookies,” Katy mumbled against the front of Beth’s blouse. “Thank you for being nice to me.”
Tears burned Beth’s eyes but she held them at bay. A little girl shouldn’t have to thank an adult for being nice.
“I hope Mrs. Beanker finds me a mom just like you.”
Beth extricated herself from Katy’s hug. “Honey, I’m not a mom. I don’t have any children.”
“Don’t you like kids?”
Beth didn’t answer the question. Instead, she hooked up an electric mixer, then flipped it to low and combined the ingredients. When she finished she handed a beater to Katy and kept one for herself. “This is the best part of making cookies.”
After Katy licked the beater clean, she asked, “Can I dump the bags of chocolate into the bowl?”
“Sure.”
“This is hard,” Katy said, trying to stir the chips.
“Want me to help?”
“I can do it.” When chocolate morsels flew across the counter, Katy quit stirring.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m making a mess.”
“So?”
“Aren’t you gonna get mad at me?”
“Of course not.”
Katy’s mouth widened into a huge smile that made her eyes sparkle, and Beth saw the true beauty in the child.
“I wish you were my mom.”
A sharp pain stabbed Beth in the chest. “Someday Mrs. Beanker is going to find you a very nice mom and dad.”
“No, she’s not.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She said I cost too much money.”
“That’s absurd,” Beth said. “How can a little girl like you cost too much money?”
Katy set aside the spoon and lifted her T-shirt, exposing her bony chest—a chest with a thick, pink scar running down the center of it. “I have a sick heart.”
The blood drained from Be
th’s head. “How sick?”
“Mrs. Beanker said I got a brand-new heart from a little boy who died in a car accident.”
“When did you get your new heart?”
She held up two fingers.
“Two years ago?”
“When I was two years old. I don’t remember it.”
“And your heart has worked well ever since?” Beth asked.
“Yeah, but I can’t do the stuff other kids do.”
“Like what?”
“I can’t run, and I’m not supposed to play sports or games on the playground ’cause I could get bumped in the chest.” Katy stuck her finger into the dough then licked it. “I have to watch the other kids play.”
“How often do you see a doctor to have your heart checked?”
“A lot. And I have to take a lot of pills to keep my heart healthy.”
“I think we’re ready to put the cookie dough on the baking sheets.” With a smaller spoon Beth showed Katy the amount of dough to use for each cookie. They worked in silence and once they finished, Beth slid the cookies into the oven. “Now we wait twelve minutes.”
“I’m bored,” Katy said.
Beth laughed, making light of the moment, but also acknowledging how often a little girl with a severe heart condition must suffer from boredom when her activities were restricted. “Do you like to read?”
“I’m not very good.”
“Are there books to read at the home where you live?”
“Yeah, but I don’t read them.”
“Why not?”
“It hurts my eyes.”
“Did you tell Mrs. Beanker it hurts your eyes?”
Katy nodded. “She said I can’t get new glasses until next year, ’cause there’s not enough money. My heart medicine costs too much.”
Beth wondered about the kind of health care Katy received living in a group home. Her medical bills must be astronomical. Then Beth considered the comfortable income she made and she was ashamed that she’d chosen to wallow in self-pity rather than embrace the opportunity to fulfill her dream of motherhood in a different way. Ashamed that she’d let her fears keep her from reaching out for her own happiness.
And it took a ten-year-old girl with a heart condition to make her see the light. “I hope you know how special you are, Katy.”
“I’m not special.”
“Oh, yes, you are.” Beth hugged her. “You’re more special than you’ll ever know.”
So special I want to keep you for myself.
Chapter Fourteen
“Do you think Ricky will stay on?” Beth stood next to Mack outside the round pen where the kids had gathered to watch the teen ride.
“We’ll see. He’s nervous.” Mack breathed in Beth’s scent—a subtle combination of warm woman and faded perfume. After Hoss gave Ricky last-minute instructions, Mack asked, “How did things go with Katy?”
“She’s a sweet girl.”
Mack heard the strain in her voice and tried to read between the lines. He assumed it had been difficult for Beth to be with the little girl, knowing she’d never be able to—make that never allow herself to—have a daughter of her own. Mack wished with all his heart that he could fix Beth’s body so she could have a baby, but even more he wished he could make her understand that her sterility wouldn’t stop him from loving her.
Damn her cheating ex—Mack sympathized with Beth’s fear of a man leaving her again and wished he knew how to make her believe that he wasn’t the lovin’ and leavin’ kind and that his love for her was unconditional. “What did you ladies chat about?”
“Katy’s been in foster care most of her life.”
“Too bad they can’t find these kids permanent homes.”
“In Katy’s case I think it might be because of her heart condition,” Beth said.
“What heart condition?”
“She had a heart transplant when she was two.”
Wow. “Where are her biological parents?”
“Her mother died after Katy was born and according to Katy, the case worker doesn’t know the identity of her father.” A heartfelt sigh escaped Beth, and Mack sensed the little girl’s situation touched her deeply.
“Because of her heart condition I’m sure her medical bills are steep. That’s got to be the reason they can’t find her a home,” Beth said.
“Why do you say that?”
“She such a sweet girl. She’d be easy to love.”
Beth had already fallen under Katy’s spell.
“The older girls at the home make fun of her. Kids can be so cruel.”
Beth was acting like a mama bear toward a child she’d met only a few hours ago. How could she deny herself the experience of being a mother when she was obviously cut out to be one?
“A lot of kids are cruel when they’re young.” Hell, even adults were cruel—grown men taunted Mack about his name.
“Looks like Ricky’s ready to ride. I’m going to watch from the stands.” Beth took two steps then stopped. “Mack?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m leaving on Monday for San José.”
His heart plunged into his stomach. “When does the new job start?”
“In three weeks.” She walked off as if dropping bombshells was an everyday habit of hers.
Beth might be leaving the ranch but that didn’t mean Mack was giving up on her. Or them. He moved closer to the chute where Hoss had loaded the steer. “You ready, kid?”
Ricky’s voice shook. “I can do this.”
“Yes, you can. Scoot forward a bit. That’s it. Lean back. Not too much. Right there. Now, as soon as Hoss hits the steer’s rump and scares him out of the chute, he’s gonna kick with his back legs and that will push you forward, so hang on tight.”
“How do I get off when I’m done?”
Mack ignored Hoss’s grin. “Don’t worry about the dismount, the steer will take care of that for you. When you’re ready, you nod once and that’s the signal for Hoss to open the gate.”
Ricky sat for a few seconds, clasping and unclasping his fingers around the rope. Sweat broke out across his brow, and Mack hoped the kid didn’t back down. Whether the teen believed it or not, he needed to prove to himself that he had the courage to see this ride through to the end.
Ricky nodded, and Hoss opened the gate then smacked the steer’s rump, and the animal bolted into the corral. The steer spun and kicked out in an attempt to unload the weight on its back, but Ricky hung on—his body jerking with the steer’s wild gyrations. Mack studied Ricky’s face—his narrow-eyed squint showed focus and determination. With a few lessons and a lot of practice, he’d be a great candidate for a junior rodeo career.
And who’s going to help him practice when he’s stuck in a group home?
Mack didn’t have time to contemplate the question when Hoss clanged the cowbell, signaling that Ricky had ridden eight seconds. Mack hopped into the corral ready to intervene once Ricky launched himself off the steer. “Jump into the spin!”
The teen dove off, hit the ground and rolled. “Nice ride,” Mack said. He guided the steer to the opposite side of the corral and removed the flank strap.
Ricky approached Mack. “When are we gonna go to that rodeo you promised me?” The kid grinned and Mack swore he saw the chip fall off the boy’s shoulder.
“There’s a rodeo in Sierra Vista next month. We’ll go to that one.”
“Isn’t there one sooner?” The teen was clearly worried Mack would forget.
“It’s only a few weekends away.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Ricky walked off and joined the rest of the kids who high-fived him.
Beth and Katy sat together, the little girl chatting nonstop with her hand resting on Beth’s leg. Then Beth laughed at somet
hing Katy said and he smiled at the sweet picture the pair made. No one would guess that the two weren’t mother and daughter. He switched his focus to Ricky. There was so much potential in the teen. With the right guidance and a little attention he’d grow into a fine young man.
Ricky and Katy need a family.
Hoss shouted orders to prepare the sheep for the mutton-bustin’ competition, but Mack blocked out the commotion, his mind churning with an idea that scared the hell out of him and excited him all at once. It might possibly be the most important decision he made in his life, but as he watched Beth, he came to the conclusion that it was a decision he couldn’t afford not to make.
* * *
“WE’RE ALL HERE,” Johnny said, taking a seat at the table in the bunkhouse.
Mack had requested the family meeting, and the entire Cash clan had crowded into the bunkhouse Wednesday night—even Buck and Destiny had made the drive from Lizard Gulch with their two-week-old son, Cody. Mack’s heart swelled with love and gratitude for his expanding family.
Conway’s twin daughters, Emma and Molly, fussed in their parents’ arms. Javi and Mig were sprawled on the carpet, wrestling with Bandit. Dixie held a sleeping Nate in her lap. Shannon bounced a bright-eyed Addy on her knee and the tyke squealed.
Mack grinned. “If there was ever a girl born to ride bulls, it’s Addy.”
“Tell me about it,” Johnny grumbled.
Shannon nodded to Will and Marsha’s son. “That’s why I’ve given Ryan the task of improving protective gear for women roughstock riders.”
“Aunt Shannon says the Kevlar vest she had to wear was too heavy for her,” Ryan said. “I’m researching different materials to use in the future.”
Shannon beamed at her nephew. “When Addy is old enough to ride, Ryan will have figured it out.”
“Where’s Beth?” Johnny asked. “Why isn’t she here?”
“She’s in California.” Not for long—Mack hoped. “I asked everybody here today because I’ve made a big decision in my life and I need your help.” Especially if Beth declined his marriage proposal.
“This sounds serious,” Dixie said.
Suspecting his siblings would believe he’d lost his mind, Mack took a deep breath and said, “I’m going to adopt two kids. A fourteen-year-old boy and a ten-year-old girl.”