Читать книгу Home to Crossroads Ranch - Linda Goodnight - Страница 10

Nate didn’t sleep a wink that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rainy Jernagen and her big-eyed foster kids. Worse, he felt the pressing weight of responsibility, worrying about them. None of which made any sense, other than he’d agreed to the foolish request to let Rainy bring the children to the ranch today. What had he been thinking?

Kids made him nervous. Not that he didn’t like them, but he sure didn’t want them running around the ranch getting into danger. Town kids wouldn’t know the first thing about staying safe on a ranch. He’d known the dangers and still hadn’t been able to avoid a tragedy.

The memory slapped him a good one, and following hot on its heels was the other memory. The one that kept him humble and praying for forgiveness.

He stalked through the kitchen toward the bubbling silver coffeemaker. His grandpa sat at the worn wooden table, glasses on the end of his nose, sipping stout black coffee and reading the Bible. As always, the sight touched a place deep inside Nate. Ernie Del Rio had come to the Lord after the tragedy that had nearly broken their family, and Grandpop’s witness had eventually led his oldest grandson to Christ. Nate would be forever grateful to his grandfather for loving him enough to lead the way. Sadly, neither his brother nor his sister displayed the least bit of interest in changing their ways.

As Nate’s boots tapped across the tile, Grandpop peered at him over the top of his half-rims. “Looking rough, boy. You going to church?”

“Lousy night.”

The old man poked a thick finger onto the printed page. “Says right here that the Lord gives His beloved sleep.”

“Guess I’m not His beloved then.” The truth was he’d long suspected he was low on God’s list of favorites. But he understood and didn’t hold it against the Lord. He had a lot to make up before God could be pleased with him, but he was working at it.

He dumped two spoons of sugar into his coffee, sipped and grimaced. “Pop, you make the worst coffee on earth.”

His grandfather didn’t take the grumbling to heart. “Don’t drink it then.”

They’d had this conversation at least once a week since Pop moved in with him three years ago. Grandma’s passing had left the older man at a loss, and Nate needed help on the ranch. They’d blended their lives amicably—two old bachelors set in their ways, raising cows.

“Janine called a bit ago. I wrote the number on the pad.”

“What now?” His sister was like a leech, sucking the blood out of him, always needy. He was the go-to man in the family, the only functional member of a dysfunctional mess. At least, he considered himself functional. He had a steady job and a permanent home, which was more than he could say for Janine and Blake most of the time.

He reached for the phone number, but Pop’s voice stopped him. “Sit down and drink your coffee first. You don’t have to jump every time she hollers.”

Nate dialed anyway. Pop didn’t understand. No one did.

Every time one of his siblings called, he got this sick pull of dread and fear in the pit of his stomach. What if…

“Janine? What’s wrong?” There was always something wrong. She didn’t call otherwise. “I thought you and Sal worked everything out yesterday.”

“We did, Nate. I promise. Sal’s being good as gold.”

Nate grimaced. Sal was a beer-guzzling lout who came and went at will, leaving Janine and their baby to fend for themselves.

“So what’s up?”

“Well, you see.” She paused and he heard a shaky influx of breath. “Now don’t get mad, Nate.”

Nate braced one hand against the kitchen cabinet and stared out the window over the sink. Fat black calves grazed on two hundred acres of quickly greening Bermuda grass. His cows, his grass, his hard work, soon to be bigger and better if all went well.

“Just tell me what you want, Janine.”

The whining commenced. “See? You’re already getting mad. I can’t help that I’m the unluckiest person in the world. You just don’t understand what it’s like to be in my shoes. You’ve got it made out there on your ranch. You’ve always had it made.”

Nate didn’t remind her of what they both knew. He’d started this ranch on a loan and a prayer, working sixteen-hour days for a long time. Since then, he’d leased an adjacent eight hundred acres with an option to buy. If he could save enough money before the lease ran out, the land would be his and he’d finally feel solvent as a rancher. But that was a big if, and Janine’s constant requests for money didn’t help him save any extra.

“My car broke down, and Bailey’s out of diapers and milk.”

Trying to hold his temper, Nate stalked to the table for his now-cooled coffee, grimacing as he drained the cup.

“Nate?” His name trembled from her lips.

“I gave you money yesterday.” The silence told him everything. He flashed a glance at Pop but got no help from that corner. “Sal bought booze with it, didn’t he?”

“Don’t get mad. We paid the rent like you said, but everyone deserves to have fun sometimes. We went out for a little while to celebrate getting back together. You aren’t married. You don’t have kids. You can’t possibly understand how hard it is.” His sister’s whine grew persuasive. “Anyway, Sal promised to look for a job tomorrow. They’re hiring over at Wilson’s Manufacturing.”

Right. If Sal sobered up. Nate ground his back teeth together. “How much do you need?”

Pop made a rude noise and shook his head. Nate turned back toward the window. How he dealt with his sister’s problems was his business, whether his grandfather approved or not. Times like this he wished for a cordless phone and a little privacy.

“Not much,” Janine was saying. “A few hundred until Sal gets his first check.”

Considering Sal was not likely to get a job, much less a check, any funds Nate dumped in Janine’s pocket were a gift. Extortion, really. She knew he worried about her.

“I’ll put a check in the mail in the morning.”

Pop slapped his Bible shut. Nate didn’t bother to look at the older man, knowing he’d see a glower of disapproval.

“Nate, I need money today. Bailey’s whimpering right now because she’s wet and I don’t have any diapers. She’ll be bawling for a bottle soon. And tomorrow I need to take my car in to have it looked at. That takes money. I’ll pay you back, I promise. Just bring it here to the apartment this afternoon. Okay? This is the last time, the very last time I’ll ask. Okay? For me. Please. I promise.”

If he had a nickel for every time she’d made those promises, he’d be a rich man. “Where’s Sal?”

“Sleeping.”

Nate’s mouth twisted. Sleeping it off, more likely.

“You don’t want me to walk to the store, do you?”

The question sliced through him like a machete.

Janine knew her brother’s every weakness, including his guilt, and Nate resented the thunder out of her manipulation. He also knew he was about to drive fifty miles to once more rescue his sister.

No wonder he never wanted to be a father. He felt as if he’d been one most of his life.

A new thought edged to the front of his mind. He didn’t really want Rainy Jernagen’s passel of kids hanging around Crossroads Ranch, getting into things, taking chances. Even though he’d agreed to let her bring them out after church, he now had a great excuse to renege without looking like a jerk.

For once, he was almost glad his sister had called.

Rainy exited the sanctuary of Bible Fellowship, gazing around in hopes of spotting Nate Del Rio. After Katie’s timely scream yesterday, the police officer had rushed into her room to find the little redhead sitting up on her knees on the bed, retching all over the bedspread. Both he and Nate had made hasty retreats shortly thereafter. She didn’t blame them one bit.

This morning, everything had looked much better. Katie’s illness had passed. The social worker had found a great place for the twin babies. Rainy had actually slept eight full hours last night and worship service had lifted her spirits to new heights.

She squinted up at the blue March sky, where wispy mare’s tails swirled, reminding her of today’s outing at Crossroads Ranch. The idea of seeing hunky Nate again was pretty uplifting, too.

She couldn’t forget that sweet moment when he had rescued Emma and Joshua from the back of the closet. He didn’t even know those kids or her, and yet he’d lured them out of their most secure hiding place, something that had, on occasion, taken her an hour to do. Before the policeman arrived, she’d had the notion that Nate didn’t like children. Guess she’d rushed to judgment on that one.

Joshua tugged her hand. Though dressed simply like his brother in a clean Henley shirt, blue jeans and tennis shoes, he was a handsome little boy. “Are we going now, Rainy?”

“To see the cows?” Emma asked. All spiffed up in fluffy church dresses and black patent shoes with white lace socks, Emma and Katie were as pretty as spring flowers. They stood together, the redhead and the blond, holding hands. At six and seven, they were close enough in age to be both best friends and worst enemies.

“Home to change clothes and have lunch first.” She gazed around again but didn’t see Nate.

“Hey, Rainy, got a minute?” A slender man in a green shirt and gold tie bounded down the steps, his toothy smile sparkling in the sunlight.

“Always have time for a friend.”

Guy Bartlett was the youth and children’s pastor. Rainy worked with the young minister on any number of projects. He was a nice man in an antiseptic kind of way and had even expressed an interest in her at one time. But all she could feel for him was friendship, which was too bad, considering his love for children. And she’d told the Lord as much.

Guy tweaked Emma under the chin and winked at Katie as he spoke to Rainy. “I was wondering if you would do a puppet presentation next week in Children’s Church.”

“Love to,” Rainy said. One of her favorite ways of relating to kids was through puppets. “I’ve been working up a new skit about forgiveness.”

“It’ll be great. Your stuff always is.”

“Well, thanks. I try.” Since Katie’s arrival three months ago, she’d had less time to spend on her hobby, but puppeteering came naturally. She’d be ready.

She expected Guy to take his leave. Instead, he cleared his throat, glanced toward the parking lot where cars were already departing, and said, “I’d like to invite the five of you out for Sunday dinner today if you don’t have other plans. To discuss the children’s ministry, I mean.”

Rainy started to refuse, but then scoffed at the thought running through her head. Guy had clearly stated he wanted to discuss the children’s ministry, not start a relationship. Even if she didn’t find his company scintillating, they were friends and coworkers for Christ. When had she gotten so full of herself?

“Later this afternoon we’re headed out to the country to see Nate Del Rio’s ranch,” she said, “but we have to eat first anyway. Right, kids?”

While murmurs of excitement rippled from the kids, Guy said, “Del Rio? Do I know him?”

“He attends Bible Fellowship, too. Part of the Handyman Ministry. He came to my rescue yesterday when a washer hose broke. I wrangled a visit for the kids to see the cows and horses.”

Guy smiled. “Never miss a chance, do you?”

Rainy smiled in return. Her friends knew about her complete dedication to foster care. “Nope. Not if I can help it.”

Joshua tugged on Guy’s elbow.

“Can we go to Golden Corral?” the boy asked, hopefully.

Will scowled at his brother. “Shut up, Joshua. Don’t be asking for stuff.”

Guy squeezed Will’s shoulder. “Golden Corral, here we come. A buffet is the best place for growing boys like you and me to get our bellies full. Right, Will?”

The teasing brought a tentative smile from the slight-built Will. As one of the smallest boys in fifth grade, nothing could make him happier than to grow taller.

“My car’s parked in the south lot,” Guy said, motioning in that direction. “Want to ride with me to the restaurant and I’ll drop you back here afterward?”

Rainy was about to refuse, but the boys were already racing across the grass toward Guy’s vehicle.

By the time they’d battled the long line at the restaurant, finished their meal and returned to the church, mid afternoon had arrived. Rainy was glad she’d gone, though, because the dinner had settled her mind about Guy’s interest. They really had talked only about the ministry and, of course, her foster children.

With the kids anxious to get out to the ranch, they’d rushed back to the house, changed clothes and departed in record time. Rainy thought about giving Nate a quick call but then changed her mind. They’d agreed upon three o’clock. As reluctant as he’d been about letting the kids come, she was taking no chances. She would simply go as planned.

With the kids glowing with excitement, she aimed her minivan toward Crossroads Ranch.

With a sense of relief, an agitated Nate turned his truck beneath the crossbars of Crossroads Ranch. After an afternoon of trying to counsel Janine and Sal and listening to a dozen excuses about why they couldn’t get their lives together, home was a much needed refuge of peace. Now more than ever he was glad he’d had the foresight to leave a message on Rainy Jernagen’s answering machine, telling her not to come to the ranch.

The thought had no more than formulated when he rounded the curve in the long driveway and saw a green minivan parked next to the fat cedar tree in his front yard. He frowned, not recognizing the vehicle. Oh, well, he wasn’t a hermit. He liked company. One of his buddies must have traded vehicles. All of them, it seemed, now had families. Everyone but him.

Finishing off the last slurp of a fountain drink, he parked his Crew Cab next to the green van and hopped out, expecting Yo-Yo, his border collie, to come flying around the house in ecstatic excitement.

The sun had disappeared, and clouds added a nip to the ever-present March wind. Still, the weather was pleasant and he considered taking the four-wheeler down to the fishing pond before dark. Bible Fellowship no longer had Sunday night service, urging its members, rather, to have family time.

He’d had all the family time he wanted for one day, thank you.

“Yo-Yo?” he called. No answer. Ah well, the dog must be outside somewhere with Pop.

As his boots thudded against the long, ranch-style porch, the sound of voices caught his attention. They came from back toward the barns and outbuildings, so Nate hopped over the end railing and rounded the house.

What he saw stopped him in his tracks. A groan escaped his throat.

Standing on the corral fence feeding carrots to the horses were four kids, his grandpa and Rainy Jernagen. Yo-Yo gazed on with pink-tongued adoration.

Nate looked heavenward, wondered if God was laughing at him or punishing him, and then stalked toward the giggling, wiggling, chattering group.

Backs turned, they didn’t notice his approach. He planted his boots, his hands on hips and growled, “I guess you didn’t get my message.”

Six heads swiveled his direction. Yo-Yo leaped to his feet.

Nate’s scowl must have startled everyone except Pop, because he was the only one who spoke. Lowering his foot from the fence rail, his grandpop said, “Nate, boy, you made it back.”

Obviously. “What’s going on out here?”

“Rainy brought the children for a tour. Said you invited them.”

No use explaining to Pop that Rainy had twisted his arm until he’d yelled “uncle.”

“She told me what you done to help her yesterday,” Pop said. “When the young ones got scared. Mighty nice of you.”

Nate recalled squatting in front of a dark closet, assuring a shaking boy and girl that he was big and he could protect them. It was a lie. He couldn’t protect anyone, but they’d come crawling out anyway, trusting him, messing with his heart.

“I called,” he said, turning his attention to the guilty party. “Didn’t you get my message?”

Rainy hopped down from the fence, dusting her fingertips together in a feminine gesture that didn’t accomplish a thing but sure looked cute. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked fresh and pretty in jeans, sneakers and a blue hoodie that matched her eyes.

“What message?” she asked, smiling at him despite his obvious irritation.

“I left a message on your machine. Told you not to come, because I wouldn’t be here.”

One of her slender shoulders hitched.

“Sorry. I didn’t get any message.” She didn’t look sorry at all. Neither did the kids, who now huddled around her, eyes wide as they stared between Rainy and him.

“Don’t matter anyway, Nate boy,” Pop said. “I’ve had a fine time showing them around. I’d forgot how much I enjoy having kids running around the place.” His grandpa winked at Rainy. “Even if they are greenhorns.”

As if the two were old friends, Rainy made a face at Pop and then said, “Your ranch is really beautiful, Nate. And so big. Your granddad was kind enough to drive us over the fields in the hay truck.”

“We seen baby cows, too,” Joshua said. “They’re real nice. I petted one right on the nose and he licked me.”

The boy extended a hand as if the image of a calf’s tongue would be there as evidence.

Emma lifted a foot toward him, nose wrinkling. The bottom of her light-up pink sneakers was filthy. “I stepped in some…stuff.”

“But she’s not mad,” Joshua hurried to say. “Are you, Emmie? She liked it. We like everything about your ranch. Crossroads is a real good ranch. The best I ever saw.”

Probably the only one he’d ever seen, but at the child’s efforts to please, Nate softened. The deed was done. Rainy and the children had had their visit to the country and nothing terrible had happened. He should be thankful, he supposed, that Rainy had come while he was gone. Now he wouldn’t have to dread the visit. It was done. Over. Never more to return.

“So, you’ve had a good time then?” he managed, feeling a little guilty for his original gruffness. In truth, his bad mood had less to do with Rainy than his own family. No use taking his troubles out on her.

Rainy’s sweet-as-honey smile was his answer. “The best. A field trip of this kind is beneficial. They’ve loved it. Thank you so very much for allowing us to come. I can’t even express how special the afternoon has been.”

Rainy Jernagen was as nice as she was pretty. And he was a certified jerk.

He displayed his teeth, praying the action resembled a real smile.

“Great.” His head bobbed. “Glad you enjoyed yourselves.” And when are you leaving? If she kept staring at him with that sweet smile, he might start having crazy ideas about inviting her again.

And that was not about to happen. No way, Jose.

“So,” Pop said, clapping his hands together. “Why don’t we all adjourn to the kitchen? I got some banana bread in there somebody needs to eat. Maybe a glass of milk. Whatd’ya say, Will? Could you use a little sustenance?”

Will grinned but didn’t say anything. The rest of the group chorused their approval, so Nate had little choice except to fall into step. Yo-Yo, the traitor, didn’t even bother to say hello. He was too busy making a fool of himself over the children.

“Katie went all afternoon without screaming,” Rainy said to him.

“Good thing. That Hollywood scream might cause a stampede.”

Rainy stopped in mid-step, eyes wide. “Really?”

Her reaction tickled him. “No. Not really. You are a greenhorn.”

“Am not,” she said amicably, and Nate wanted to tease her again. He liked teasing her. Liked her gullible reaction. He looked ahead where four children pranced around his grandpa, yapping like pups. He was glad they were up there with Pop and Rainy was back here with him. And no, he wasn’t going to examine that thought too closely.

“Bet you wouldn’t know a stirrup from a saddle horn,” he said, baiting her.

“Guess I’m going to find out, Mr. Smartie.”

Something in the way she sparkled with energy gave him pause. “What do you mean?”

“Your grandpa invited us back next weekend.”

Nate battled back a cry of protest and more than a little panic. He shot a look at his grandfather’s flannel-clad back. “He did?”

“Sure did.” Rainy tapped his arm with one finger. “To go horseback riding.”

Like a punctured balloon, all the air seeped out of Nate.

Without upsetting everyone—including his grandfather, who would never let him hear the end of it—Nate couldn’t refuse. He wasn’t that much of a jerk.

Uneasiness crawled over his skin like an invisible spider.

Of all the dangerous ideas, Grandpop would have to come up with this one. Horseback riding. Small children on the backs of very large animals with minds of their own.

A recipe for disaster.

He sneaked a glance at Rainy Jernagen’s upturned face. His belly dipped.

From the moment she’d opened that red front door looking like a combination of mother earth and the bride of Frankenstein, he’d known she was trouble.

He should have run while he had the chance.