The Cowboy Meets His Match

by Leann Harris

  Sawyer carefully searched her eyes. “Yes, and I glanced at it last night, but I didn’t see any final numbers.” He shrugged. “I wanted to see if Norman and Mel even have the same estimates.”

  The sound of a car in the drive drew their attention. Moments later, the doors slammed and Tate appeared. He took in the situation. Betty was slow getting out of the truck.

  Sawyer stepped away from the fence. “I had an urge to ride this afternoon.” He knew that both Erin and her brother would understand. They were all horse people.

  Tate rubbed his neck. “Ridin’ sounds good to me, and since I’m being supervised, you can’t object.” Tate aimed his comment at his sister.

  Sawyer inwardly cringed. Tate’s heavy-handed approach invited trouble. “Since I don’t know your ranch, a guide would be a good idea, if that’s okay with you, Erin. If something happened to me while riding here—” he shrugged “—people might think it was your way of getting rid of the competition.” He grinned, hoping his light tone would ease the tension between brother and sister.

  She caught the teasing mood. “Well, you’ve got a point. I wouldn’t want to be accused of letting our new rodeo wrangler get lost.”

  “No one would accuse you of ignoring your duty,” Tate snapped.

  Her brother’s irritation at being driven to and from school was showing.

  “Well, it’s a good idea for you to accompany Sawyer.”

  Tate started toward the other horses.

  “Just know, brother,” Erin called, “we’ll have a talk later about school today.”

  Tate froze. “Okay.”

  As they walked away, Sawyer gave her a nod of approval.

  Erin smiled.

  * * *

  “When I drove up today, your sister was practicing her barrels,” Sawyer told Tate as they rode past the practice corral. Sawyer wanted to get Tate’s mind off school.

  After several moments of silence, Tate replied, “She always practices. Both Sis and Dancer love it. Sis took Dancer with her to the university. I don’t know how she practiced, but she did. I understood her wanting to ride, but others didn’t.” Tate’s shoulders straightened with the pride that rang in his voice.

  “I did the same and took my horse, Rescue, with me to school and rode on the weekends. You can relax and let problems melt away on the back of a horse. Life seems to come into focus.” And no better place to pray than on the back of his horse. “It was only after I graduated and took jobs in different cities that I left Rescue at my brother’s ranch. I do miss Rescue. When I call my brother, I ask about my horse before his wife.”

  “Really? You should use FaceTime to talk to your horse. It’s what Sis uses every night to talk to Mom about Dad’s condition.”

  “That’s a good idea. I think I might try that the next time. Question is, will my brother take the tablet into the barn? But that won’t replace riding my horse.”

  “True. Sometimes things aren’t the way you want them.” The comment trailed off.

  There it was. Tate’s cry for help.

  “Yes, but things happen that we don’t have a say in. When my dad had a heart attack, he didn’t survive.”

  Tate remained quiet.

  “So what’d you do?” he finally asked.

  “There’s nothing you can do but survive. I had my big brother and we got through it together. Got closer.” Sawyer wouldn’t tell Tate the other ugly part of his story. Tate needed to be encouraged, not depressed. “Your dad survived the stroke.”

  “But nothing’s going to be the same. I should’ve been better and spent time with him.”

  Lord, help. “We can’t go back and change the past, but going forward you can. You can be there for your dad in the future. And I know your sister is also struggling with your dad’s stroke and with me winning the bid. I think you could help her.”

  “She’s strong.”

  “True, but is there anyone there for her? We all need others to help us. I think she might like someone she could depend on to be there for her.” Sawyer guided his mount down a wash.

  Tate eyed him. “Really?”

  “Yup. I knew this sheriff who had a reputation of being the best and, in his state, everyone depended on him, but when he went home, his wife made all the decisions in the house. The sheriff just needed a moment to be taken care of, but when he went to work, he was in charge.

  “I couldn’t change my dad dying. It took me a long time, and a lot of anger, to accept. But there was a pastor who showed an angry boy that he needed to let God into his heart and do the work.” It still awed Sawyer how patiently and gently the pastor had guided two young wounded men.

  Tate eyed him, then looked back at the landscape, his shoulders tense.

  At least Sawyer had put the ideas into the teen’s head. “I think we need to start back. We don’t want to worry anyone.”

  Turning toward the ranch, an easy silence settled between them.

  The first hurdle with Tate had been cleared.

  * * *

  They could see the ranch house on the horizon when they heard the ring of a meal triangle.

  “We’re being called to dinner,” Tate said. “I’m hungry.”

  “You’re a teenager and that’s to be expected.”

  They traded grins.

  “We need to hurry back, and I should get going back to town.”

  “Why don’t you stay and eat with us?”

  “I’m sure your aunt isn’t expecting me.”

  “Didn’t you listen last Sunday? My aunt loves feeding others. It’s her thing. No one is ever turned away. In fact, she’ll tackle you before you can come up with an excuse to leave.”

  Sawyer laughed. “Another determined woman.”

  Tate shook his head. “Us guys don’t stand a chance between my mom, Auntie, and sister.”

  “Well, consider me on your side.”

  They rode up to the barn, unsaddled their mounts and put them in the corral.

  Before Sawyer could walk out of the corral, Betty appeared on the porch and waved them inside. “I’m ready to put dinner on the table. Hustle.”

  “I told you,” Tate whispered.

  Sawyer didn’t want to impose but thought he needed to excuse himself before he left to go back into town, eat and go over the information he collected in Mosquero, the county seat of Harding County.

  Ten minutes later, Sawyer knew it was impossible to endure a tornado and remain standing.

  As he sat next to Tate at the table, the teen couldn’t help but smile.

  Betty put the main dish on the table. “Erin, where are you?”

  She raced into the room. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I was looking through some of Dad’s notebooks concerning the rodeo.”

  Erin settled across the table from Tate and Sawyer.

  After saying grace, Betty started passing dishes. She handed Tate a bowl of greens to go with his roasted chicken. “How was your day, Tate?”

  Everyone froze.

  Tate refused to look at Betty. They hadn’t talked about Tate’s little stunt yesterday. Erin had told her brother they would wait a day to cool down and think about what happened. The only thing they’d determined was that Tate wouldn’t be driving.

  “I talked to your mother this morning. She asked about you,” Betty said.

  Sawyer leaned close and whispered, “I think she knows.”

  Tate’s lips tightened.

  “What were you thinking?” Betty asked.

  “Auntie,” Erin answered. “I think we’ve all been stressed with what’s happened. It doesn’t excuse it, but explains it.” She met her brother’s surprised look.

  “True,” Betty replied, “but remember what your mother and grandmother said—you do wrong, you pay the pric
e. When all five of us kids were growing up, Grandma wasn’t interested in excuses. Later, after we paid the price, paid the penalty, Grandma would sit with whatever child had done wrong, talk about what had happened and ask if we had learned a lesson. Or, she would have us think of a better way to have handled things.”

  “Tate and I were going to talk about it after dinner,” Erin said.

  Waving her hand, Betty said, “Now’s a good time.”

  “I don’t think Tate would want us to discuss the topic here over dinner.”

  “What Tate needs to know is that he’s responsible for his actions,” Betty replied.

  “I know I’m stepping into an argument where I don’t have a vote in the outcome, but I think Tate knows he’s made a mistake.” Sawyer glanced at Tate for permission to argue for him. The teen nodded.

  Sawyer continued. “We talked on our ride. And I think he’s willing to pay whatever price you think is appropriate.”

  Silence settled on the room.

  Erin folded her hands on the table. “Mom and I talked. She thinks that what we’ve done so far, Tate not driving this next week but having either me or Auntie drive him, is a good start.”

  Tate opened his mouth to protest.

  “How long?” Sawyer asked, jumping in.

  “A week at least,” Erin replied, “or until Tate builds our trust in him, again.”

  Sawyer turned to Tate. “I think that’s reasonable, don’t you?” To simply take away Tate’s truck sounded like a reprieve to Sawyer, and he hoped the boy realized his mother had gone easy on him.

  Tate didn’t immediately answer. He slowly surveyed each person at the table. Heaving a sigh, Tate nodded. “Okay.”

  “Mom said that your truck needs to stay in the driveway. She’ll take up the issue of the tailpipes with you when she comes home. It doesn’t make a difference if you are a senior—ditching will not be accepted. There is a price to pay.”

  Tate’s mouth tightened. “Does she want my keys?”

  “No. She’s going to trust you and give you the opportunity to show we can trust your word. What happens now is on your shoulders.”

  “I get it.”

  “Well, with all that taken care of, let’s clear the dishes and Tate can finish his homework,” Betty said.

  * * *

  Erin breathed a sigh of relief. The ride with Sawyer seemed to have helped her brother’s attitude. She’d intended to talk privately to Tate and prayed Betty forcing the issue wouldn’t backfire and, amazingly, it hadn’t.

  Erin owed Sawyer a debt.

  “Thanks for helping with Tate.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “You mentioned you have Norman’s books with you. Would you mind if I looked through that set, too, to compare with Dad’s?”

  Sawyer set the last dish on the counter. “No, I don’t mind.”

  Betty waved them out of the kitchen. “Go, talk.”

  “I’ll get them.”

  Sawyer disappeared out the back door and showed up in the library minutes later.

  “I wonder if the figures in Norman’s budgets are the final ones, because we haven’t located a set yet.”

  “I hope so, too. I haven’t been able to study Mel’s numbers thoroughly yet, since we’ve been swamped with inquiries about jobs at the office, with people wanting to submit bids.” He sat beside Erin on the small couch in the office so they could look at the figures together.

  Opening Norman’s budget to compare with her dad’s, they had to dodge the front covers to avoid being smacked. With their dance, Erin and Sawyer bumped into each other, laughing and grinning like children. Suddenly, she felt Sawyer’s warmth up and down her right side like the heat of a campfire. She froze. So did he.

  Trying to ignore his presence, she compared the first pages of the budgets, but her stomach felt as if she had swallowed jumping beans. Turning her head, she came face-to-face with Sawyer. Inches separated them. She could see the green-and-brown color of his hazel eyes. A brown dot sat outside the pupil in the iris of his right eye.

  They could hear the ticking of the grandfather clock in the study. She wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart.

  “These aren’t final numbers, either. These are the same as the ones in the other notebooks.”

  His gaze held hers hostage, then he smiled, a soft, welcoming, toe-curling smile. “I’ll compare all three notebooks when I get back.”

  Erin pulled the sticky note she found and showed it to Sawyer. “This is the note I told you about. Apparently, Mel told dad he’d get them the final numbers, but so far, we haven’t seen them.”

  “And it seems no one has seen those numbers.”

  “So why are they missing?” Erin asked.

  “That’s the burning question we all want answered.”

  She closed the binder and held onto the edges. “It seems you keep coming to Tate’s rescue.”

  “Well, I just wanted to help the kid along. I had my fair share of troubles as a teen.”

  “I wasn’t criticizing, but thanking you.”

  He shrugged. “I know what it’s like having your world turned upside down and not knowing how to act. I want to help.”

  She wanted more, wanted to know how his life had been turned upside down, but again he held back, not filling in the blanks. It seemed so unfair that their lives were open books but Sawyer volunteered nothing of himself.

  Covering her hand with his, he lightly squeezed.

  She didn’t look up at him. “When you don’t know what to say, it helps when someone else steps in. And there’s been so much going on I wasn’t as careful about Tate’s needs.” She stared at their intertwined hands and pulled away. “I don’t think anyone was. With the rest of the people in the household women, Dad made sure Tate knew it was the boys against the girls. I guess Tate felt his only support was gone.”

  “Realize boys don’t respond to ‘Let’s talk.’ You could invite him to go riding or help him clean out the stalls, then you can try talking to him.”

  “That makes sense. Tate and Dad spent lots of time out on the range or in the barn. Sometimes, they liked to take their fishing poles and go to the creek and fish. That’s a sport I don’t understand, sitting there waiting on a fish.”

  “Spoken like a woman who doesn’t understand the finer points of fishing.”

  She really should stand. Maybe then she wouldn’t be so rattled, but her body refused to cooperate.

  “Did any of the rodeo events appeal to your brother?”

  She gathered her scattered thoughts. “He did 4-H projects. He won for raising the best heifer in the state when he was in the ninth grade. He earned a lot of money, but that didn’t stop several of the boys at school from teasing him about just winning for raising a cow. They asked why he didn’t compete in real rodeo stuff like bull ridin’ or bareback ridin’. Dad told him—” Her voice trailed off. Suddenly, the light shone in her brain. Her gaze collided with his and she saw an understanding, and humor.

  “Dad always did things with Tate and then talked with him. Ah, I see what you’re saying. You have to be with them, doing their favorite activity before you can talk, unlike us women who can sit down and discuss things.”

  “I never doubted it.”

  Looking down at her hands, she shook her head. “Mom and Auntie tell me I should walk softly sometimes and see what’s around me. See the path God has sent me down.”

  Leaning closer, he whispered, “I’d listen to them.”

  The door to the study opened, making Sawyer sit up straight. Betty leaned into the room.

  “Your mother is on the phone.”

  Erin hadn’t heard the ringing.

  “She wants to talk to you. She’s speaking to Tate now.”

  Erin an
d Sawyer stood.

  “I need to get going.” He grabbed the notebook he’d brought in and her father’s. “I’ll compare these with the ones Mel left, if that’s all right with you.”

  She nodded and followed him out to his truck.

  Betty and Erin followed. They stopped at the screen door and watched as his taillights disappeared around the curve of the road.

  Betty wrapped her arm around Erin’s shoulder and squeezed. “I think I know why that man got the contract.”

  “Why?” What was her aunt talking about?

  Betty dropped her arm and turned to face Erin. “God sends us those people we need on our journey, and perhaps this family needed Sawyer to help us through this difficult time.” Betty didn’t wait for a response but continued. “Heaven knew your brother would have problems that neither of us could imagine, and He sent Sawyer. You must admit that Tate’s experienced some bad spots that neither you nor I thought about. I know your mother wanted me here just as a touchstone and someone to feed you and Tate.”

  Erin couldn’t believe her ears. “Really, Auntie? I was to lose so Sawyer could be here to help Tate?”

  “I can see that. Remember, God knows the end of the story.”

  Erin frowned at Betty, confounded by her words.

  “I can see you don’t understand me. Open your heart and listen to God.”

  Auntie did have an uncanny way of knowing things, but this time she’d completely missed the mark. Completely. Sawyer wasn’t here to minister to her family.

  So did she have a better explanation?

  No, but it wasn’t to help the Delong family, that much she knew.

  But her heart called her out, saying she refused to face the truth.

  Chapter Seven

  Sawyer returned to the rodeo office. When he opened the front door, he stood for a moment, listening to the silence. He flipped on the lights and went to the meeting room. He could’ve waited until tomorrow to compare Norman’s and Detrick’s notebooks to the ones in the office, but he wanted to resolve the nagging question tonight.

  He put the binders on the table beside the one Mel had left yesterday and compared the three. They all were the same, but none of them had final numbers.