by Deb Kastner
“I doubt that very much,” he stated wryly. “But I can hardly kick you off the ranch without giving you a fighting chance, not after you helped my mother the way you did.”
“Your mother sincerely believed in this ministry,” Ellie said fervently.
“She must have,” Buck agreed. “She sold her own house and bought this ranch.”
“For the ministry we have here,” Ellie repeated, thoroughly exasperated by the stubborn man.
“Ministry? Is that what you call it?”
Ellie huffed. Hadn’t he seen how happy Tyler had been this afternoon, caring for the horse? The boy had a real gift, and Buck was too blinded by his own grief to see it.
Well, maybe she’d just have to make him see it.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she stated bluntly, folding her arms in front of her. “If you can take the time off work. You and Tyler stick around here for a couple of months and see how the ranch operates. You’ll be back before Tyler starts school in the fall.”
Buck lifted an eyebrow, but after a moment he nodded.
“I gave my notice at the Flying Pony before I came here. It’s time for me to make a change. I just don’t know what, yet.”
Her breath caught in her throat. Could it be that her plan would really work?
“Then you and Tyler can be my guests while you decide the course of your future. If you don’t see the purpose in my ministry, I’ll leave willingly, without a fight. I know you have every right to make me leave now, but I’m asking you for this opportunity to prove myself, the ranch and the ministry I do here. What do you say?”
Buck sighed and shrugged. “What can I say? It appears Tyler and I are going to be your guests for a while.”
Chapter Four
Despite the nip of spring, the weather the next morning was mild enough for Ellie to wear only a light jacket out. She’d fed the ever-hungry preteen Tyler bacon, eggs and toast for breakfast, but there was no sign of Buck. When she asked Tyler about Buck’s absence, he indicated, still chewing on a piece of toast loaded with strawberry jam, that his father made it a habit to get up and about early.
Not surprisingly, Ellie found Buck in the stable, still dressed head to toe in black, from his cowboy hat to his boots. He even wore a black duster. He was walking from stall to stall and making notes in a small spiral pad of paper—apparently, Ellie gauged, assessing the worth of her horses. She wondered if his desire to own and operate a horse ranch had changed—it had been his major life goal when they’d been dating so many years ago.
Ellie thought he must feel the same way about horses now as he had back then. Something like that was in a man’s blood; it wasn’t likely a dream he’d given up on, even if he’d pushed it deep inside his heart. She took in a deep breath of the comforting smells of horse and hay, her livelihood and her life.
“You’re planning to sell the ranch in order to buy your own,” she guessed aloud as she approached him from behind.
Buck jumped, obviously startled, and turned toward her, an adorably guilty frown making his eyebrows scrunch together underneath the brim of his hat.
“Uh, yeah.” He sounded as guilty as he looked.
Ellie wondered whether he was tallying how much he’d make on the sale of her horses, but he hadn’t yet read the will himself, and there was one small detail in the fine print that he might not be so happy to discover. Ellie guessed he’d pitch a fit when he found out the truth.
The ranch was his mother’s, so it stood to reason she would have purchased the horses, as well, Ellie imagined. But in truth, the stock—all the horses and barnyard animals—belonged to Ellie. She had been making payments to Mama Esther on the land with an unspoken lease-to-own agreement that didn’t involve a down payment she would never be able to afford, but the livestock belonged to her alone.
She was debating whether or not to enlighten him of this fact when he spoke again.
“It’s true that I planned to sell my mother’s ranch,” he continued in a terse voice, sweeping his cowboy hat off his head and tucking it under one arm. “Of course, it didn’t help that she’d converted the main ranch house into a craft shop, but even without that, the location right off the new highway wouldn’t have been a good thing for my horses.”
“How many horses do you own?”
He scoffed. “Two. Mine and Tyler’s. I left them in the care of the Flying Pony until we get settled.”
“Oh.” Ellie paused, surprised by this new information. She would have thought Buck would have acquired a large, strong herd by now. “I thought you left town in order to buy up a head of stock and run your own horse ranch.”
“That was the plan,” he said, irony—and maybe a touch of regret—lacing his voice. “Life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to, though, does it?”
Ellie looked him straight in the eye. “No,” she said clearly. “It doesn’t.”
Buck had the good grace to cringe at her statement, lifting his hat and jamming his fingers through his thick, sand-colored hair before turning away from her gaze.
When he didn’t immediately speak, Ellie moved back to the subject at hand—the rest of her life. Specifically, the status of her ministry, which appeared to be hanging by a precarious thread at the moment.
“You would seriously consider keeping this ranch as your own?” Ellie asked.
Buck scrubbed a hand through his hair, which was now completely disheveled; it would have given him the look of a young boy were it not for the lines on his face, lines that showed the many years of misery he’d endured.
“I’m thinking on it,” he said at last, still not looking her in the eye.
“Oh,” was all Ellie could think of to say.
Buck shook his head and brushed his thumb softly against the side of her cheek. His green eyes glowed emerald when he looked down at her, forcing their gazes to meet. “Don’t worry, Ellie. I’m not going to renege on our deal.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“You’ll have your two months. That’ll give you enough time to find someplace else to live.”
“And something else to do?”
“What?” Buck looked confused.
“My ministry?” she reminded him coldly.
“Oh, that,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it, Ellie. I’m sure there are tons of things you can find to do around Ferrell that would constitute a Christian ministry.”
“Maybe,” she agreed with an edge to her voice she could not control. “But this ranch is my ministry. It’s unique, and it can’t be done without land.”
Buck shrugged again. “I can’t help you with that. I have my son and myself to worry about now.”
Ellie bit her lip to keep from reminding him how selfish he sounded, although caring for Tyler was a valid point. Still, in her mind she saw a great big gray area in which she and Buck might be able to come to a mutual understanding that would benefit both of them.
Buck saw only in black and white.
“I’ve been looking over your breeding stock,” Buck said in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “I’m very impressed by your quarter horses. You picked out some very nice lines. I didn’t know you were such a connoisseur of horses.”
Ellie glared at him as if he were a flaming idiot. “I’m not. But your mother was.”
“My mother?” Buck was clearly astounded, and it showed in the high pitch of his voice.
“You think she lived on a horse ranch for the whole of her married life and never learned anything?”
Buck shook his head. He’d never thought of his mother that way. She’d always been…well, his mother. She’d taken care of him and his father—cheerfully cooked, cleaned and washed the laundry. A loving housewife.
Now he realized he hadn’t given her enough credit. He’d had no idea just how involved his mother really had been in the actual day-to-day running of the ranch.
In his own defense, he thought wryly, it was hard for any boy to see his mom as a human b
eing, wasn’t it?
That insight might well apply to fathers and sons, as well, he realized, scratching the scruff on his chin. It was definitely worth thinking on.
“My mother picked out your stock,” Buck clarified, arching his eyebrow at Ellie. He couldn’t help but sound thoroughly bemused. He felt that way.
“Didn’t I just say that?”
It was like Ellie had suddenly burst Buck’s bubble with a sharp needle as she continued to glare at him. He’d been lost in thought, but he suddenly realized, if her expression was anything to go by, that she was angry with him—really angry. And he supposed she had good reason, what with him hovering over her, eventually planning to kick her off the property and all. Sneaking out to take a peek at her stock when she wasn’t looking.
But it was the only solution he could think of that made any sense. The way he saw it, he had two choices—sell the property, or keep it and start his horse ranch here, though the idea of staying in Ferrell didn’t especially work for him. Ellie would understand how he felt and would even agree with him if she just thought it through—at least he hoped she would.
What else was he to do?
“I hope your own horses are equally as well-bred,” she said, crossing her arms and taking a step backward.
“Why is that?”
“Because,” she stated markedly, “if…when I leave, I’m taking every last piece of livestock with me.”
He chuckled. “You can have the llamas—alpacas—whatever. And the goats. I never cared for the beasts, myself. But the horses stay here.”
“My eye,” she replied sharply, glaring razor-sharp daggers at him. “The land might not belong to me, but the horses do. And if I go, they go.”
Buck thought she clamped her mouth shut to keep from adding a “So there!” to the end of her statement.
Whether or not she said the words aloud, her statement included them.
So there!
Her threat had infinitely more backing than she realized. To his own surprise, Buck was actually seriously contemplating keeping this land. It was located on the outskirts of town and somewhat away from the highway. But if he kept the land, there would be no money for the breeding stock he’d need to start his herd.
There was the rub.
Ellie must have been following his train of thought, because she grinned severely up at him, her violet eyes narrowed on him.
“I see you get my point,” she prodded. “Which leaves you in quite the quandary, doesn’t it?”
Buck scowled. “I’ll figure it out.”
“I’m sure you will.”
The last thing he needed right now was a sarcastic comeback. Buck jammed his hat on his head and turned to walk away without another word.
“I’ve got guests—clients—coming in an hour,” she informed his back. “You can tag along and watch if you want.”
It appeared she was holding out an olive branch to him, but he was too angry and frustrated to take it.
“I’ll just stay out of your way,” he grumbled without missing a step.
“Suit yourself.” Ellie spun on her heels and started to leave the stable through the opposite door.
“Where’s Tyler?” he queried. “I don’t want him getting in the way of your therapy session.”
Sarcastic? Two could play that game.
Ellie shot a glance over her shoulder. “In with the new foal, of course. Where else would he be?”
With that, she strode from the stable and up the hill toward the ranch house, her thick, straight, black satin hair swinging behind her. Buck watched her go, remorse filling his chest. Why did every stupid thought in his brain have to come out his mouth when Ellie was around?
It never happened with other people. In fact, those who knew him probably considered him silent and broody—which, of course, he was most of the time.
Except with Ellie.
For some unexplainable reason, Ellie always brought out the worst in him, made him speak every single thought, every feeling, right to her.
Or at her.
Of course, Ellie brought out the best in him, as well, but that was beside the point. Buck scowled again for no one’s benefit but his own.
Now, he realized, his troubles were substantially multiplied, for if Tyler was in the stable with the foal, as Ellie had indicated, he must have heard the entire interchange between Buck and Ellie. Buck was having enough trouble with Tyler without adding this whole “sweep the ranch out from under Ellie’s feet” thing.
With a loud sigh, he approached the one stall he hadn’t yet attended to, the one he’d saved for last because he knew the newborn foal, which he thought might be exceptionally well-bred stock, would be waiting for him. Buck was anxious to see how the little guy was faring after the difficult breech birth the day before.
Buck was no longer quite as interested in the stilt-legged colt, since he had a no doubt surly son he would have to face down. Funny just how quickly a man’s perspective could change.
As Buck expected, Tyler was in the stall with the newborn foal, sitting on the fresh hay, his back against the far wall, with one knee up and the other leg stretched out before him.
The boy immediately glared at him when Buck entered the stall, but Buck ignored his glowering son and instead crouched beside the colt, who was now teetering around on faltering legs. Buck empathized with the newborn—Buck himself felt like he was teetering around and faltering with every step.
His son’s words confirmed his thoughts.
“You’re gonna kick Ellie out of here, aren’t you?” Tyler leveled the accusation at Buck with a glare that only a son could give to his father. Buck wanted to cringe.
Instead, he set his shoulders. How could he explain what he didn’t know himself? His feelings for Ellie were so complex, they were like an intricate web—one that had been balled up and stuffed into his chest. No chance of sorting out that mess.
“It’s…complicated,” he said after an extended pause, during which he stared absently at the colt.
“You always say that when you don’t want to tell me the truth,” Tyler indicted, continuing to glower.
“I’m not kicking her out, exactly,” Buck said, his mind racing to find an explanation that would satisfy the fuming young man. “At least not without reasonable time to find other accommodations. I think I’m being fair. Don’t you remember? I promised her two months.”
“Sure you did.”
“Son, we need a place to live ourselves,” Buck reasoned, trying his best to keep his voice level. He hated how he had to stretch to justify himself before Tyler.
“So does she.”
It was no use arguing anymore, and Buck knew it. Both of them would go round and round in circles and end up where they had started.
They always did.
Buck growled and shook his head. “It’s complicated,” he said again, knowing that explained nothing but hoping to end this pointless conversation before it got completely out of hand. He hated arguing with his son. Tyler should know Buck’s philosophy of life by now better than anyone else in the world, without him having to constantly repeat it.
What was, was.
And if that meant, in his son’s words, kicking Ellie off her—his—land, then so be it. No sense beating himself up about it, or taking any flack from Tyler. He was giving Ellie far more notice than he would have given anyone else. Buck couldn’t help it that this turn of events affected Ellie personally.
“Son, it’s out of my control.”
“I knew it.” Tyler stood in one swift movement and stalked past his father, brushing so close he almost bumped Buck’s shoulder as he passed. “You won’t even give her a chance.”
Buck gazed after his retreating son’s back, as confounded by Tyler’s behavior as he’d ever been. Buck and Tyler had never gotten along particularly well, but something had changed. Something was different now.
Ellie.
What had the woman done to Tyler that the young man was alrea
dy so firmly in her corner?
Whatever it was, Buck didn’t like it.
Not one bit.
Ellie tried her best to put the distraction of Buck’s presence—and her looming destiny—behind her as she prepared for the day’s clientele, a special favorite of hers. Children from the foster-care program for Grange County, located in the nearby town of Silverdale, were bused in every Wednesday.
To these special kids, some abandoned by their parents or truly orphaned from some type of tragedy, her services were free. So what if she wasn’t making a huge profit on the ranch? she argued to herself, as if to Buck. She was helping others in need, making a real difference here.
If only Buck could see it.
Ranging in age from toddlers to teenagers, the children delighted in the ranch life they found here at McBride’s. The little ones liked to pet the bunnies and chase the chickens. The older children often visited the horses. Ellie taught them how to care for the various animals and even took them on trail rides from time to time. She had purchased a pair of draft horses for special-occasion hayrack rides, which the children loved so much.
Ellie straightened her shoulders, forced a smile on her face and waved to the children as the bus approached the ranch house. She wouldn’t think about the fact that the ranch would soon not carry her name, that everything she’d worked for all her life was about to go up in smoke.
She wouldn’t think about it.
As the children clambered over each other to get off the bus, Tyler appeared at Ellie’s side. She was surprised but tried her hardest not to show it, giving Tyler the same smile she offered the children running in her direction.
“Are these some of the kids you minister to?” Tyler asked, curiosity lining his expression.
“They are,” she replied, giving the boy another big grin. “All of them come from one bad situation or another. I’m sure you can imagine how difficult it is for them to lose their families and then have to trust a new group of people with their well-being. Foster homes aren’t always as permanent as they need to be. Not too many of these children ever get adopted. Not enough, anyway.”