Second Chance Ranch (The Circle D series)

by Harders, Audra

  Come to me…

  “I can’t hold it together anymore, Lord.” No more strength; no more fight.

  Surrender…

  A gust of wind blew from the north rattling the rafters of the old homestead. Jennifer buried deeper into the afghan, tucking her feet in the cushions of the chair. Tears flowing and her nose running, she begged forgiveness for…everything.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “Looks like Nick’ll be a contender at the National Finals Rodeo again this year.”

  Zac looked up as Gabe set his cup of coffee on the table and leaned back on the couch beside him. The pain in his back had gone numb and his head offered a dull throb as Zac picked up his daily routine. Nothing about his life at the Circle D had changed, only an aching loneliness strangled his heart. “Are you thinking about going to Las Vegas to watch? He’ll have tickets if he’s a contestant. If not, Cauldwell Cattle will since they provide stock for the NFR.”

  Gabe glanced over and studied him. “I think with your surgery, the twins coming, and all the unexpected surprises around here, I’ll have enough excitement to keep me a good, long while.”

  “Guess you’re right. Someone’s got to keep a level head around here.” Zac shifted and slumped back down on the couch. His oldest brother, Nick, dealt with the pain of losing his wife the only way he knew how…sitting on the back of two tons of angry bull and inciting its full rage by pressing his heels in its sides while it bucked an arena. They’d all thought it was a passing phase. Years later, he was still punishing himself. “Mom and Dad will want to go.”

  “What? And watch Nick get tossed like a yard dart from some brute of a bull? I think they’d rather hide out here and hold their breath in the comfort of their own home waiting for the call that he’s been hurt.”

  “That’s not showing much faith in him.” An odd camaraderie filled his heart for his brother. “Nick knows how to ride a bull or he wouldn’t be one of the top names.”

  “He’s the oldest cowboy on the circuit, and for what? He doesn’t need the glory; he doesn’t need the money.” Gabe linked his fingers together behind his head. “He can’t keep running from his problems. We need him here, doing his part for Davidson Enterprises.

  There were a lot of things he didn’t need, but he did them anyway. “He’ll come home when he’s ready.”

  “Stubborn runs mighty deep in this family.” Gabe shrugged and gave him the evil eye. “So what are you going to do?”

  “About what?” Zac stopped his normal spiel in mid breath. No sense in hanging on to an illusion that no longer existed. “I’m going to talk some sense into Jennifer as soon as I can walk fast enough to keep up with her. She won’t answer my calls. The two times I’ve stopped by the ranch, she hasn’t been there. Her dad hasn’t seen her either. She’s avoiding me and that’s a bad sign.” What an understatement. He didn’t have it in him to survive more of her soul-gripping revelations. “Jen fights for what she wants.”

  Gabe lowered his arms and slid to the edge of the cushion. He squared Zac with a penetrating stare that only stable, logical Gabe could pull off. “How can you fight for something that’s no longer available? What’s the point?”

  “Just because we don’t get what we want doesn’t mean you give up trying some other way.” He’d witnessed her crusading determination more times than he could count. “Especially Jen. I’ve seen that girl fight for causes that had nothing to do with her at times, but the injustice of it all sucked her in.”

  “Injustice,” Gabe repeated. “How fitting.”

  “Come on, Gabe.” Zac’s hackles rose. “Don’t put this on me. I was just as surprised as anyone to find out the Trails’ End still belonged to the family. The courthouse made the ownership and deed right; I’ve made it right with Jess. Now I’m trying to make it right with Jennifer and she won’t let me.”

  Gabe threw his hands in the air as if Zac had just uttered the most nonsensical thing he’d ever heard. “Jess never cared two bits for the ranch growing up. He’s a money man, always after his next investment. You financed a business deal with him and that was all he was looking to get in the sale of the Trails’ End.”

  Lowering his arms, Gabe seemed to regained a bit of composure. “But Jen? Her heart’s in that place. Remember the story about King David and Bathsheba? David could have had any woman in the kingdom. All Uriah had was Bathsheba. He was a faithful friend and loyal officer, he would have laid down his life for David. Instead, David took it all from him, including his life. David knew what he wanted and he stopped at nothing to get it.” Gabe skewered Zac with his dark stare. “You can have any ranch you want. Why take hers?”

  Everything Zac knew about Jen crashed together in his mind. She’d seen no other way to give their child all she deserved - and allowed him to have all he wanted - unless she made the ultimate sacrifice by giving up her child. Pressure built behind his eyes. She’d lost her mother, she’d forfeited her daughter, she’d felt betrayed by him. “So you’re saying I’m devious and ruthless?”

  “Little brother.” Gabe stood and looked down at Zac. “I know the Trails’ End belongs to us, and no way am I arguing your assuming ownership of it. Deep down, you always believed the ranch belonged to us no matter who said what. But Arthur Eklund believed his ancestors, too. Great grandpa Jeb lost it to Efrain in a bad poker hand. It’s not Arthur’s fault Efrain never filed the deed. Arthur made his offer to Jennifer in good faith. If I were you, I’d try a little good faith myself.”

  “How?” his voice cracked, the strain of the last days wearing on him. “There are other ranches around here for sale. I’ve mentioned them to her, especially the McMillan place. It has everything she needs for her camp without the management headaches. She won’t even listen. She’s got a stubborn streak a mile wide. I’m trying to make it right.”

  “Maybe it’s not the land she’s looking for. Maybe she’s looking for something entirely different.”

  The wheels spun in Zac’s head as Gabe sighed and shrugged.

  “Zac, for the sake of forever after.” Gabe’s voice dropped to that tone Zac knew well. ”Are you going to choose right, or love?”

  * * *

  Slowing at the end of the row, Zac took a wide turn and followed another line of raked hay over the rutted ground. The inflamed muscles of his back ached from the marrow extraction, but a few pain killers kept the worst at bay. The main thing was getting the job done. If he stayed on task, he’d have this field finished by sundown. The entire ranch put up a day ahead of schedule.

  Now that was something to smile about.

  Are you going to choose right, or love?

  His smile faded as Zac bounced on the seat of the tractor, Gabe’s question an irritating burr on his conscience. What kind of question was that?

  Right or love?

  The ranch, or Jennifer?

  Since the afternoon he and Gabe had talked, Zac couldn’t shake the feeling that he was fighting a battle that no longer mattered. As a boy, he’d stood firm in his belief that his great-grandfather might have been a lousy card player, but would never lose anything as important as a family legacy. As he grew older, Zac understood that gambling debts held merit, and by a miscalculation of face cards, GG Jeb had sacrificed a piece of his soul. A plot of acreage had changed hands, GG Jeb had lost his land and the other three brothers had been spurred into action, making certain that mistake could never happen again.

  The remaining properties banded together creating the Circle D under a single deed.

  Zac shifted gears and pressed the accelerator as shadows lengthened on the newly baled hay one row over. The whole field glowed as the sun inched down toward the towering pines along the fence line. The sun set quickly once it dipped behind the mountain peaks. Zac loved the night up here on the ranch. Countless stars covered the inky sky, something he’d sorely missed seeing when he lived in Denver. He looked forward to staring at the stars as he sat on the porch of the ranch house, just has he had the other evening wi
th Jen. His chest constricted. Only now, it would be without Jen.

  Tomorrow, she planned on turning her business plan on the ranch back to the bank, her long and arduous journey to ownership of the Trails’ End over. She’d put up a good fight and came away with an extensive knowledge base of ranching. Once she got over the sting of losing, she’d see reason. She didn’t need twenty-five hundred acres for her camp. If she wanted to stay in the Hawk Ridge area, there were any number of smaller spreads for sale and easier for her to manage. He’d always be around to help her.

  Over the past few weeks, Jen had reclaimed that part of his heart that had always been hers. Being there for Jennifer O’Reilly was the most important thing in his life. He wouldn’t fail her again.

  He slowed at the end of the row and turned up the next, the sun to his back. After setting the tractor on course, Zac looked beyond the field and over the valley. Golden fields spread down the gentle slope, a series of lateral ditches criss-crossing the property making it look like a country quilt. The Trails’ End Ranch offered a unique combination of hay field, grassy plateau, and forest rim. A grin stretched across his face. He’d wanted the Trails’ End for so long, he couldn’t believe it was truly his.

  “GG Jeb, the Trails’ End is back where she belongs,” Zac said aloud over the low drone of the tractor engine.

  The row ended leaving Zac only one more row to bale and the job would be done. Maneuvering into place, he squinted against the late afternoon sun. At the end of the field, a fence marked the boundary. He glanced above the three strands of wire to the rooftop of the old equipment shed, and off to the side, the barn. The angle of the sun reflected off the metal corrugation making the remodeled structure shine next to the log house a bit further up the incline.

  The log house Jen had turned into a home.

  He gripped the steering wheel and almost turned the tractor off course. The first day he’d stopped by the ranch house she’d been battling a broken water pipe…and losing. The house was old; it needed a remodel. Did she really want to tackle that? He could name any number of repairs the house needed.

  As his brain tried to justify Jen’s inability to fix one disaster after another, his heart reminded him of the day he’d walked into her kitchen. She’d sat at the table, maps spread across every horizontal inch of the room. He grinned at the memory of her juvenile reaction to her planting scheme. But to her credit, she’d sat and listened as he explained crop rotations and time lines. She’d asked questions; she wanted to learn. She’d trusted him to teach her.

  He shook his head and popped back to reality. You didn’t learn to farm on a place as big and complex as the Trails’ End. The harvest was your livelihood, it paid the bills. One bad year and you’d be in a world of hurt.

  Even as he fought to keep reality in the forefront, memories of Jen sitting on the porch in the moonlight filled his mind. Her hair a tousled mess as if she’d dozed off on the swing. He remembered her smile when she had invited him to join the kids for their dance night. The same evening they’d walked along the path as he saw her back to the house after the dance…where he’d kissed her goodnight.

  The tractor jolted to a stop. Zac blinked and returned his attention to the hay field he was baling and the tractor.

  And the fence he’d just run into. The metal post angled away from the left side of the engine, the top wires stretched so tightly, the two metal posts on either side angled in, too. Zac slapped steering wheel as he slammed the transmission into park and cut the engine. He scrubbed his hand down his face and stared at the broken fence.

  Someday, Jen would thank him for taking this whole headache off her hands.

  * * *

  The manila folder dampened in her palm as she grabbed it off the bench seat and slid out of the truck. Why Mr. Gebhardt had called wanting her final numbers for the camp expenses, she couldn’t fathom. But she had them, and they looked good. She worked her fingers back and forth along the worn paper edge as she ran through the final tally in her mind.

  Four great summer and one early fall sessions. All completely booked. Campers enrolled for next year. No matter how she looked at it, the camp looked great on paper. Too bad there was nothing that tied that success to the location of the Trails’ End Ranch. She rounded the truck and followed the sidewalk to the bank. She should be happy the camp stood on its own merit with little of its success due to the terrain or buildings of the ranch.

  Or the cowboy who owned it.

  “Oh dear Lord, help me be strong,” she whispered under her breath as she pushed the glass door and walked into the lobby area. Hawk Ridge Bank and Trust worked with all the farmers, ranchers and family in the area. Many of the elders of the town sat on the board. As a girl, she’d come to the bank with her mother to do whatever adults did at that time. Frannie Pollard had been the head teller and always slid a lollipop to her through the decorative iron rails. The smell of lemon polish on the old time teller counters evoked myriad memories, both good and bad.

  “Good morning, Jennifer,” Frannie greeted with a wide smile as Jen approached her desk. Frannie had gone from head teller to executive assistant and appeared to wear the position well. “Isn’t it just beautiful for the end of September?”

  “Glad the snow isn’t flying yet. I still have a lot of things to clean up.” Like the recreation hall, the barn, and move out of the house. Sadness edged over her. She had to move out of the house she’d cleaned and fixed and made her own. A house full of memories of friendship, laughter and love.

  Just as quickly as the thoughts darkened around her, she shook them off. It was just a house. She’d find someplace else to call home. Her memories of Arthur’s encouragement lived on in her heart along with the knowledge God had better things in mind for her. Chin up, kiddo. It’s in God’s hands. “And the aspens are gorgeous, don’t you think?”

  “Oh my, yes. With color like this, Hawk Ridge is sure to get folks coming up for some great pictures.” She shuffled a couple of papers across her desk. “Maybe you can think about offering your camp facilities for camp dinners and hay rides. You’ve got the kitchen all set up, might as well use it.”

  A bit insensitive, even for Frannie. She didn’t have the ranch, or the barn, or the kitchen. Again, she had to pull herself together. In a few minutes, the whole fiasco would be over. “Something to think about. Is Mr. Gebhardt available?”

  “Oh, of course.” Frannie stood and indicated Jen follow. “He said you’d be in.”

  The noise from the lobby faded as Jen stepped into the office. A pair of arm chairs sat in front of his honey oak desk, the seating arranged at angles for easy access. A lateral file of the same oak stretched behind a black leather chair, the same black leather matching the arm chairs. A desk pad, phone, and wooden letter holder occupied the top. A file folder sat on the desk pad, the only indication Mr. Gebhardt actually worked in the space. How did anyone keep an office that neat?

  “Jennifer, come in,” he greeted from behind his desk and indicated she take a seat. “Did you bring the final figures for the camp expenditures?”

  She angled into one of the chairs and handed him the folder.

  Opening her file, he thumbed through the papers, and then opened the other file and shuffled through additional pages. As he worked through the figures, Jennifer studied the brass mantel clock on the top shelf of the bookcase. It ticked a steady rhythm. Odd to hear a clock tick anymore. Mr. Gebhardt had probably searched forever for one just to rev up the drama of his loan procedures.

  “Jennifer, you’ve developed an impressive business plan. Well thought out. Ambitious enough to demonstrate an understanding of agriculture. If you weren’t a fine nurse already, I’d say you’d make a great farmer.”

  She smiled to be polite. She never would have accomplished it without Zac’s help. His suggestions and foresight had put her over the top. The proposal was Zac’s, not hers. “I appreciate your confidence. I guess the practice of putting together the business plan will help in whateve
r property I end up qualifying for.”

  “Hmm,” he agreed. He pulled a page she recognized from her original application. “You included a schedule of equipment upgrades. Very good.”

  Zac again. “Thank you.”

  He closed the folder and shuffled it to the bottom of his pile. He tugged out a cover sheet she recognized as hospital stationary.

  Her letter of reference for sponsorship.

  He tilted his face up and down as he read the page, as if trying to find the sweet spot for distance in his bifocals. “The hospital recommends you highly for the Nurse Administrator position of the camp. They feel even though you’re only a couple years into the program, you’re well suited to this position.”

  Why did that matter to the bank? Still, she practically had to sit on her hands to keep from grabbing the letter to read for herself. The Foundation was happy with her work. Now all she needed was a facility. “I’m happy to hear they’ll back my work.”

  “Oh yes, and the accelerated program you’ve developed and tested has sparked interest. They’ll be watching you closely. Good for you.”

  She didn’t understand. She had nothing to watch. Only speculation, desires and dreams. This meeting had nothing to do with her present. And quite honestly, she had no idea where her future was going. So why drag out the pain?

  She grabbed her purse, needing to get out before her tears embarrassed them both. “Thank you, Mr. Gebhardt. I appreciate all the help and time you’ve invested in me.” She rose from her chair and extended her hand.

  The banker looked at her over his glasses. “Sit down, Jennifer. You have some papers to sign.”

  More papers. For a failed attempt to capture her dream. The embarrassment was practically killing her. “I really do have to leave. I have a staff meeting--”

  “Not before we finalize your loan.” He placed a stack of papers in front of her and handed her a sleek, ball point pen. “I need you to sign all the highlighted areas.”

  A loan? For what? “I haven’t researched any other sites, Mr. Gebhardt. I had to finish my year-end reports for the Foundation on the Trails’ End.” She nodded toward the file he anchored beneath his elbow. “I know you’ve already pre-qualified my application amount, but I haven’t had time to look for other ranches.”