Читать книгу A Wife in Wyoming - Lynnette Kent - Страница 10
ОглавлениеBy the time Ford had pulled out Caroline’s chair and then settled into his own, one of the waitresses had come to clean the table. “Thanks, Angie.”
Caroline said the same thing at the same moment. Their gazes met and held before sliding apart.
“How’s school?” Ford asked the waitress.
“Good.” The college sophomore gave him a grin. “I made the rodeo team. Cool, huh?”
He nodded. “As long as you remember to study for classes.”
Angie stuck her tongue out at him and turned to Caroline. “You rode for the University of Wyoming team, didn’t you, Caroline?”
Caroline brushed her hair behind her shoulders. “For three years. I dropped out my senior year—too busy.”
The waitress sighed. “I’ll never be too busy for rodeo. I’m hoping to go pro when I graduate.” She loaded up plates and glasses on one arm. “What can I get you two to drink?”
Caroline asked for water, Ford ordered a soda and Angie went on her way, which left them facing each other across the table. “Glad to be back in town?” Caroline asked him.
He gave a rueful smile. “Something of a challenge, I admit. The locals are ready to plan your life out for you, aren’t they?”
“Oh, yes. Not to mention telling you exactly what you did wrong in the past.”
“But surely you don’t hear that often. You were everybody’s favorite rodeo queen.”
She rolled her eyes and frowned. “Hardly.”
“Oh, definitely. That’s how I remember you—prom queen, homecoming queen, rodeo queen.” Her expression didn’t lighten. “You won all the votes, every time.” For good reason, since she’d been the prettiest girl in the school.
Not to mention the daughter of one of the richest ranchers in Johnson County. “Is your mother doing well? Your brother still riding bulls?” He wouldn’t bring up her dad. They were likely to have very different perspectives on George Donnelly.
She met his gaze, and he was surprised to see sadness in her eyes. “I haven’t talked to Reid for...a while. My mom says he’s doing okay, but will be retiring from the rodeo pretty soon to come back and work on the ranch with Daddy.”
“That’ll be...interesting.” As much as he enjoyed working with his own family, Ford didn’t envy Caroline’s brother a life with his father as his boss. His own dad had spent ten faithful years working at the Donnelly ranch and, from what Ford remembered, George Donnelly had been a tough taskmaster.
He also remembered how, just months after his mom’s death, Donnelly had fired his dad without a second thought. The resulting downward spiral had cost him and his brothers their remaining parent. Though Donnelly couldn’t logically be held responsible for his dad becoming an alcoholic and killing himself in a car accident two years later, his indifference certainly hadn’t improved the situation.
But the Marshall boys had turned out just fine without anybody’s help. Wyatt’s strong hand and determination had seen them through. In the end, the only people you could rely on were your family.
“Working with my dad is a challenge,” Caroline said, in an unexpected echo of Ford’s thoughts. “I’m not sure Reid will stick it out. He can be pretty volatile himself.”
Angie reappeared with their drinks. “What can I get y’all to eat? Chicken fried steak is the special today,” she announced. “Comes with mashed potatoes, green beans and Kate’s homemade rolls.”
“Sounds great,” he and Caroline said in unison. Again.
“That’ll be two.” Angie wrote on her notepad. “Back in a bit.”
When Ford looked over at Caroline, she had set her forearms on the edge of the table and leaned a little toward him. He gathered they were about to get down to business.
“We’re here,” she started, “because I want to tell you what I’m planning. This is a project Garrett and I are very excited about, and I think the Circle M Ranch would be the perfect setting to use.” Her expressive face wore the prize-winning smile he’d never forgotten.
Ford drew a breath and relaxed into his chair. “Okay, I’m ready. Go for it.”
She talked without stopping for at least fifteen minutes while Angie delivered their plates and refilled his drink, while he ate and Caroline took a bite here and there. Ford listened and didn’t interrupt—she was clearly in the moment and very prepared with numbers and details, genuinely committed to her plan. Only when she actually finished and sat silent for almost a minute did he try to get a word in edgewise.
“You’ve worked hard on this.”
She nodded, chewing a bite of her steak.
“And you’re really driven to succeed with it.”
Another even more vigorous nod of her head.
“So let me go over what I’ve understood from your presentation. You want to start up a summer program for at-risk teenagers—the ones who have gotten into trouble at school, or with the law, or who have problems at home, like documented abuse. Not hardened criminals, but kids who still could be rescued and sent in a different, safer direction.”
“That’s right.” She took a sip of water. “I’ve screened all the children I work with very carefully to identify the right kids for the group. I don’t want to put anybody at risk. I just want to give them a different experience, a chance to see that they can succeed in life.”
“Right. And the kids in your program will reside at the Circle M, where they would be expected to learn how to do ranch work—riding, herding, roping, feeding, treating...whatever is on the schedule for me and my brothers to do, the kids would also do.”
“Yes. I know they would have a learning curve—none of them have a ranching background.”
“So they would have to learn how to ride, and ride pretty well. They’d have only a couple of weeks to acquire the kind of skills it takes a ranch hand several years to master.”
“You would be doing the main part of the work, but you’d be doing it anyway, so it’s not a loss for you.”
“As long as they didn’t do anything dumb and hurt themselves.”
“Well—”
“But you’re expecting us to be there to protect them and see that they don’t get injured, along with doing our own work.”
“I know it’s asking something extra, but I’ll be there, too, so I could do a lot of the supervision and help out—I was a pretty good roper in my day.”
“Sure. And you were a champion rider. I get that. What about the legal liabilities? Will the parents sign a waiver and a consent form, just in case something does happen?”
“People stay at working guest ranches all the time, Ford. They agree to hold the owner and the ranch workers blameless in case of injuries or...or death...if something happens. We would cover the Circle M and the Marshalls the same way. The parents would agree to it. And we’d have a medical consent form in case we needed care fast.”
“There is no fast medical care in Bisons Creek.”
“Ah, but there you’re wrong. We have a doctor coming to town this summer, and she’ll be opening her own clinic. If something happened, we’d be just a few minutes away.”
“Progress is wonderful,” he said drily. “So these kids, who aren’t the most upstanding citizens, are going to live and work at the ranch for three months, with access to our animals, our equipment, tools and house. We’re supposed to trust they won’t do any damage or take anything. We have computers, you know. Cell phones. TVs and radios and audio equipment. There’s beer in the fridge, whiskey in the sideboard. But you believe your kids will be immune to the temptations.”
Caroline was quiet for a moment, staring down at the table in front of her. Then she looked up at him. “I have to be honest—three of the boys were caught stealing candy from a gas station a few weeks ago. The manager took them to court, for their own good, he said.”
Ford sat up straight in his chair. “And you want to bring them into our home?”
“They’re boys, Ford. Little more than children. The judge was going to sentence them to community service all summer, but I persuaded her to let me try this program. I want to show these kids where choosing the right side can take you. I think they will be immune because bad behavior will carry penalties.”
“What kind of penalties?”
“If they fail this program, they return to the court system and end up with a juvenile record. They don’t deserve that. They’re not bad. Just confused.”
He blew out a deep breath, just as Angie sidled up to their table. “Dessert?”
Caroline shook her head. “I couldn’t possibly.”
But Ford nodded. “Kate’s apple pie? With ice cream?”
“Coming up.”
He’d welcomed the interruption, though it only delayed the inevitable. He wasn’t a man who went around kicking puppies. But right now he felt like one.
Propping his elbows on the table, he captured Caroline’s gaze with his. “Listen, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I served several internships in family law, dealing with these kinds of kids. I mentored them. I wrote briefs for their court appearances. I investigated their home lives, their schools, their friends. Do you know what I saw?”
“What?”
“Nine out of ten didn’t give a damn about what we were doing for them. And the ones who did couldn’t escape, even if they wanted to. I don’t think I caused meaningful change for a single kid I worked with.”
Caroline clasped her hands together on the table. “That’s terribly sad. But does it mean you stop trying?”
He wasn’t getting through to her. “Why are you so determined to implement this plan? What do you hope to gain?”
Her chin lifted, and a stubborn light came into her eyes. “Why are you so opposed to it?”
Ford shook his head. “You first.”
She blew out a short breath. “I honestly believe that everybody deserves a chance to succeed, regardless of their income, their family situation, their history. Kids in particular ought to be offered options for a better life. What I hope to gain is a better place to live for all of us.”
“So you’re basically trying to save the world?” He meant it as a joke, to ease the tension.
Caroline didn’t smile. “Somebody needs to. Why not me...and the Marshall brothers?”
“Because some people can’t be saved.” Ford folded his arms across his chest. “No matter what you do for them, they break the rules out of self-interest and simple, downright meanness. In the process, they often hurt the people around them, including the ones trying to help them.”
“These are kids, Ford. They’re not old enough for meanness.”
“This is my family, Caroline. This is our home, which I spend my life working to protect. You may believe a signature on a release form reduces our liability. As an attorney, I can tell you that lawsuits are easy to file and hard to evade. An injured kid could cost us thousands, even hundreds of thousands of dollars, maybe cost us the ranch itself. More important, our reputations are vulnerable in this situation. One of those kids could claim they were molested on the ranch, and all of us would become suspect. Frankly, I’ve come too far in my professional and personal life to take that risk lightly. My brothers are good men—I would hate for them to deal with that kind of public harassment. You wouldn’t be immune, either. Your job—your whole life—could be ruined because of a teenager’s whim.”
She didn’t flinch. “I think it’s worth taking the chance.”
“I disagree.”
“You’re saying no.” Her face was pale, her big eyes wider than ever and, as he watched, they started to shine with unshed tears.
He let his arms relax, resting his fingertips on the table. “I’m really sorry, Caroline. I understand what this means to you, what you hope it might mean to the kids. But I’m saying—”
Angie slid a saucer laden with pie and a huge scoop of ice cream across the table in front of him. “Jerk,” she said before walking away.
He used his index finger to move the scoop of ice cream from the table back on top of the pie. “What I’m saying is that I’ll vote no when the time comes.”
Caroline frowned. “Vote?”
“That’s how the Marshalls make decisions.” Ford pushed the plate away. He’d lost his appetite. “Everybody gets a vote on something that affects the ranch as a whole. Like this program of yours.”
“What do you do if there’s a tie?”
“Wyatt’s the boss, so he gets an extra vote if he wants one.”
Hope replaced despair in Caroline’s pretty face. “So even if your vote is against me, there’s still a chance that the Marshalls as a family would agree?”
Ford sat forward, resting his arms on the table. “My vote isn’t against you.”
There wasn’t anything about Caroline to vote against, that he could see. The tousled mahogany hair, the rosy cheeks and shining eyes, the way a lightweight yellow dress set off her curvy figure and slender legs... No, not a single thing to object to, in his opinion. “I don’t consider your plan to be in our best interest. That’s all.”
“Wyatt may think differently. Garrett certainly does. What happens then?”
“I guess you go forward with your project.”
“But you’d still oppose me?”
“If the family votes yes, I’ll cooperate.”
She shook her head. “Spoken like a lawyer. I’ll just have to hope that Wyatt and Dylan are willing to take a chance on my kids.”
“We’ll talk it over and let you know as soon as we’ve reached a decision.”
She gave him a bright smile. “Then I guess the faster I get you home, the faster I’ll hear the answer.”
Which gave him a fair idea of where he stood as far as Caroline Donnelly was concerned.
* * *
THOUGH SHE’D GROWN UP practically next door to the Marshall brothers, Caroline had never been to the Circle M Ranch. Yet here she was on a Sunday afternoon, driving Ford Marshall home. He looked relaxed enough in the passenger seat, but he seemed to fill up the space around her, which made getting a decent breath difficult. When she tried, his scent teased her nose with hints of pine and grass edged with an exotic tang she couldn’t name.
His silence was getting on her nerves, so she spoke the thought at the front of her mind. “You and your brothers didn’t grow up at the Circle M, did you?”
“No.” The hand lying on his thigh fisted and then relaxed. “My folks had a house in town. When Dad died—” he paused and drew a deep breath “—Wyatt went to work for Henry MacPherson at the ranch. After a couple of years, the old man had us move out here. Dylan was twelve, I think. I stayed for the summer before heading off to college.”
“So you really haven’t lived here that long.” She turned off the road to drive between two stacked-rock columns, which supported an iron arch carrying the ranch’s brand—a circle with an M inside. “You didn’t come back for the summers, did you?”
He glanced in her direction, his eyebrows raised. “You kept track?”
Caroline felt her cheeks flush. “It’s just...I mean, for those first few years, the graduating class got together, you know, to have a party during the summer and find out what everybody was doing. But you were never there.” Even that was admitting too much. Why had she noticed whether Ford Marshall came or not?
“As I said earlier, I worked most summers in legal offices, getting experience to put on my law school applications.”
“But you probably wouldn’t have come even if you were in town.”
“Probably not. I wasn’t Mr. Social Scene when I was here.” After a moment, he continued. “But you were. I’m not surprised you made all the parties.”
That was the third strike, as far as Caroline was concerned. She stomped on the brake, put the truck into Park and turned in the seat to face him. “What did I do to you that made you resent me so much?”
Again, that look of surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s the third time you’ve insinuated that I’m shallow and stupid.”
“You said you got your master’s degree. That’s not stupid. I just meant you were Miss Popularity.”
“There you go again. Yes, I was popular in high school. When did that become a crime?”
“This is a ridiculous argument for two adults to have. High school was fifteen years ago.”
“But whatever grudge you’ve got against me is standing in the way of helping some troubled kids get the future they deserve. So I want to deal with it now and move on.”
His hand fisted again. “I was a poor orphan kid from the wrong side of town. You were the rich socialite with the world and most people in it at your feet. I grew up being reminded I wasn’t good enough to breathe the same air as George Donnelly’s kids. But I’m over it. Can we drive now?”
Caroline continued to stare at him. His explanation fit the facts and yet...didn’t. What wasn’t he saying? “People do change, you know.”
“Yes, they do. Some more than others.” He opened the door and dropped to the ground. “Thanks for the ride. Garrett will call you after we have the family meeting.” With a two-fingered salute from an imaginary hat brim, he set off in the direction of the house.
As he strode off, Caroline noticed the summertime beauty of the lush pastureland around her. Circle M Ranch sat at the base of the Big Horn Mountains, where a winter’s worth of snow had brought up green grass and gorgeous wildflowers—pink fireweed, yellow buttercups, white daisies and blue lupines.
She also appreciated the physique of the man walking away from her. He’d taken off his jacket, and she enjoyed the play of shoulder muscles under his dark plaid shirt, the fit of denim over his narrow hips and long legs. He had certainly changed since high school—though still lean, he carried himself with a confidence the skinny teenager had lacked.
Yet he’d been the cutest boy in school. Which was why she’d always hugged to herself a secret crush on Ford Marshall.
Not that she would tell him about it. He was way too sure of himself for her to give him that kind of advantage. Maybe she’d had a lucky escape in high school—a man like Ford would dominate a woman’s life rather than simply share it. And Caroline wouldn’t surrender her hard-won independence just to be someone’s “little woman.”
This summer, though, she wanted him on her side, which meant mending fences. So she put the truck in gear and followed him down the road, slowing as she came alongside him. Through the open window, she called, “I’m sorry for being cranky. Get in and I’ll take you the rest of the way.”
He shook his head and kept walking. “That’s okay. I don’t get out enough in San Francisco. Feels good.”
“Are you going to make me follow you all the way to the house?”
“It’s only about a half mile.”
“Come on, Ford. Get in.”
He stopped, set his hands on his hips and stood facing away from her, gazing out over the land. They were on a bit of a rise and could see all the way to the mountains, plus the ranch buildings in between—a timber-sided house, a big red barn with corrals around it and other structures.
“It’s beautiful,” Caroline said. “I never realized what a view you have over the valley. My dad’s ranch isn’t nearly this pretty.” Especially considering all the metal buildings set up to house his quarter horse breeding business. With the stallion barn, the mare barn and foaling barn, the indoor arena, offices and equipment sheds, not to mention the landing strip for his plane, the place resembled a military base more than a Wyoming ranch.
“Yeah, it’s pretty special.” He came to the door and leaned one arm on the windowsill. “You’re a problem, Caroline Donnelly. Do you know that?”
“I don’t intend to be. Why don’t we let the past be over, and start from here and now?” She held her hand out across the seat between them. “Deal?”
He stared at her face for a long moment, then his gaze dropped to her hand. His shoulders lifted on a deep breath. “Deal,” he said, clasping her fingers with his. He let go quickly. “But I’m still walking home.”
* * *
FORD DIDN’T LOOK BACK when he heard the truck’s engine rev up, or when the rattle of gravel announced a quick three-point turn and a rapid acceleration. He’d spent as much time as he could handle sharing the small space of the truck cab with Caroline. He wanted to clear his head before he had to deal with his sharp-eyed brothers. Teasing was a way of life with the Marshall boys—at the least sign of weakness, they would rib him without mercy.
He wasn’t sure he could defend himself. Because, as pretty as she had been in high school—and he well remembered lying in the dark in the room he’d shared with Wyatt, thinking about the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts and the cute round butt she got from being a damn fine barrel racer—Caroline Donnelly was a hell of a beautiful woman now.
The years had refined the elegant bone structure of her face, setting her eyes deeper, sculpting her lips into a delicious smile. Because she didn’t ride as much, her legs were long and slim, shown to advantage by the short skirt of the dress she’d worn today. He’d had to get out of the truck and walk away before she saw how he felt about her. How he’d always felt.
Not that Caroline would consider dating him, even though he wasn’t one of “those poor Marshall boys” now. Her boyfriends in high school had been the “cool” guys, the ones with nice cars, stylish clothes and plenty of money to spend on their girlfriends. He’d watched them all from a distance, overheard details about the parties, the skiing trips and concerts and vacations. He knew, because his dad talked about it, how fancy the Donnelly house was, how the barn had heated water dispensers in the stalls and, incredibly, a swimming tank for the horses.
His dad also described life for Caroline and her brother Reid—expensive ponies to ride and train on, handmade saddles and custom bridles and boots, clothes that never seemed to get worn twice. Their vehicles, in high school, were pricey pickup trucks with all the latest gadgets. Nothing was too good for the Donnelly kids.
Ford had made money over the years, but there was still a big gap between his family’s status and hers. George Donnelly had earned his fortune by producing world-class quarter horses. He and his family socialized with the governors of Wyoming and Texas as well as princes of countries in the Middle East. The Circle M Ranch sold grass-fed, all-natural beef in a few Western states—not the same scale at all. And Ford’s own luxuries—the Mercedes, good suits, a nice apartment—did not compare to the Donnelly empire.
Caroline attracted him, distracted him and reminded him of the part of his life where the Marshall brothers counted for next to nothing. A part he would prefer to forget.
So he would be happy if she stayed away from the Circle M. Her plan was too big, anyway, too demanding, too risky. He’d come home to take care of his brothers and do some relaxing of his own before getting back to the career he’d worked so hard to build. End of story.
Feeling better for having sorted out his problems, Ford reached the house and climbed the porch steps.
As the screen door fell shut behind him, his youngest brother walked into the living room with a sandwich in one hand and a soda in the other.
“So what’s this I hear about teenagers staying at the ranch for the summer?” Dylan dropped down onto the couch. “Are we going to have extra hands this year?”
“Not if I can help it.” Ford sat in the recliner near the fireplace and put up the footrest. “Caroline gave me the hard sell at lunch, but I told her this isn’t a good time for us to be experimenting with a summer camp at the Circle M.”
“I’d be hard put not to buy whatever that woman had to offer. She’s a beauty, and a sweetheart, besides.”
Ford unclenched his jaw. “You two would make a great couple.”
Dylan grinned at him. “Thought that would get to you. You looked pretty starstruck when she walked over this morning.”
“Eat your lunch. I’m taking a nap.” He closed his eyes, hoping his little brother would get the message and drop the subject.
“Not that I want a bunch of kids hanging around,” Dylan continued. “I’ve got a show coming up and the work’s not half-finished. Playing babysitter doesn’t fit into my plan for this summer at all.” When Ford didn’t answer, he went on. “But if Garrett is on Caroline’s side, then it comes down to the boss’s opinion, I guess. What do you think Wyatt will say?”
“About what?” Wyatt stood in the doorway to the back of the house.
Ford sat up again. “You don’t have your brace on. You’re not supposed to walk around like that.”
“Yeah, well.” He made a rude hand gesture, which dismissed the doctor’s orders. “What’s this I’m supposed to have an opinion about?”
Honey sidled around Wyatt and came over to the recliner to get her shoulders and ears scratched. Ford obliged and then got to his feet. “I’ll explain after we get you tacked up, so to speak. I’ll fetch the saddle.”
Just as he’d finished strapping on the brace, Garrett showed up. “I’m starving—nobody offered to feed their preacher this afternoon. Did you leave the fixings out, Dylan?”
Wyatt snorted. “When does he ever put them away?”
“Just thinking somebody else might be hungry,” Dylan said nonchalantly. “Saving them some trouble.”
“Yeah, right.” Wyatt took the recliner across from the one Ford had claimed. “So are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
“I’ll let Garrett explain. I don’t want to bias the jury.”
“That’s lawyer-talk for...?”
“Garrett supports the idea. He’ll give you the official sales pitch.”
Bearing a plate with a sandwich and a glass of milk, the man in question sat in the rocking chair, which was the only piece of furniture they’d brought from their childhood house.
“It was my idea, actually. Caroline was talking about trying to find something for the kids to do over the summer, to keep them out of trouble. And I suggested using the Circle M as a place for them to hang out, to learn and mature.” Between bites and gulps, he outlined the proposal with almost as much enthusiasm and optimism as Caroline had shown.
Ford had to admit he’d enjoyed the explanation a lot more when he was listening to her, watching the shine in her eyes, the tilt of her head when she’d smiled—yet another reason he wanted the entire idea to go away. Next summer, when he wasn’t around, they could work on this project. Wyatt could handle Caroline and her teenagers.
Maybe Wyatt would fall for Caroline. Or maybe Garrett already had, and that was why he was pushing the plan.
“Ford, I can tell by your face that you’re not in favor of this program.” Wyatt stroked Honey’s head where it rested on his knee. “What are the arguments against the idea?” His mouth twisted with pain. “Wait a minute. I feel like I’m falling backward, trying to sit in this chair. Garrett, let me have the rocker.” He struggled to stand up as the brace kept his spine straight and prevented any twisting or bending between his neck and his hips. “Thanks.”
Honey looked at the new arrangement and opted to stay where she was with a different knee under her chin.
“Yeah, what are the arguments?” Garrett said. “I’m seeing only good things—the chance to help some kids to lead better lives and bring in extra hands for all the work around here. Where’s the downside?”
Ford went through his objections yet again. “The legal liability is a big problem. If one of those kids gets hurt—the way you are, for instance, and you’ve been riding practically you’re whole life—then I don’t care what form the parents have signed, they’re going to come at us with a costly lawsuit.”
“Spoken like a true legal eagle.” Garrett had moved into his usual defensive position, sitting forward in the chair with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands gripped together. “Not everybody is so sue-crazy.”
Relaxed in the recliner, Ford kept his hands loose, his expression neutral. “Both you and Caroline have mentioned that these kids come from families with financial problems. Wave a hundred thousand dollars in their faces and see what kind of crazy they become.”
“I say it’s worth the risk.”
“You’re an optimist. I’m a realist, and it’s my job to protect our investments.”
“Since you’re the one with the big salary. Got it.”
“Since,” Ford fired back, “I never again want to wonder whether we have to go to bed hungry because we don’t have the money to buy food.”
Wyatt flinched. Garrett looked down at his hands.
“Not a problem these days,” the boss said in a quiet tone. “We’re all adults. We can all work. Most of the time, anyway,” he added.
A few moments of silence allowed the air to clear. “In my opinion, the setup is too ambitious,” Ford said, finally, calmly. “A few hours a day for a week, maybe. But to have the kids living out here, making us responsible for them 24/7, is asking too much of us and them. When are we supposed to get actual ranch work done? What if a kid smuggles drugs onto the ranch? Or raids the liquor cabinet? If one of them runs away, we are responsible. With males and females in the group, it’s even possible a girl might get pregnant. Do we want that culpability?”
All three of his brothers winced. “That seems unlikely,” Garrett said. But he sounded less sure.
After a minute of silence, Wyatt pushed himself out of the rocking chair. “I’m going outside for a while to think. No, I don’t need supervision,” he said, as Ford looked at him in question. “I can manage on my own. I’m gonna walk to the corral, talk to the horses. They make more sense than you three, anyway.”
Ford watched through the window to be sure his brother got down the porch steps. Then he turned back to Garrett. “If you’re supporting this plan because...because you’ve got a thing for Caroline, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get in your way. But—”
“She’s something special, that’s for sure.” Garrett got to his feet. “But I’m on board because it’s a chance to do something good for kids who need a break. I’m just sorry you don’t agree.” He headed for his bedroom, the signs of his hurt feelings easy to read.
“Touchy, touchy.” Dylan stretched his arms before flopping down full-length on the couch. “I’m gonna snooze till the boss shows up again. Maybe by then it’ll be dinnertime, and somebody will have cooked something.”
Ford eased back in the recliner to nap a little himself. “You ever think maybe you could do the cooking?”
“Nope.”
“Just wondering.”
He did manage to close his eyes for thirty minutes or so. Then, between feeding the horses and Honey and helping Garrett with the spaghetti dinner he’d decided on, supper was on the table before they all got together again. Even so, they had to drag Dylan off the sofa to wake him up.
Fortunately, he was never grumpy when pulled out of sleep. “Looks good,” he commented, sitting down in the dining room. “How come we only eat like this when Ford comes home?”
“Because he does most of the cooking.” Garrett passed the big bowl of pasta to Wyatt. “So what’s the answer, Boss? Did you come to a conclusion about Caroline’s project?”
In his deliberate way, the oldest Marshall served his plate before answering. “Let’s say grace,” he suggested, and they all bowed their heads while Garrett gave thanks.
As they took their first bites, Wyatt said, “Henry MacPherson took me on, a teenager with no ranch experience, and taught me what I needed to know. He paid the wages that, for better or worse, kept us alive those first couple of years.”
The glance he sent Ford recalled his earlier comment about going to bed hungry. “In time, he paid all four of us to work on the Circle M. He brought us here to live with him, and he left us the land for our own. He pretty much saved our lives.”
Looking around the table, Wyatt held each of their gazes with his own. “I say we owe it to Henry to pass the favor on.”
“Yes!” Garrett pumped his fist in the air.
Ford glanced at Dylan, commiserating in silence.
In case anybody had a question, the boss made his decision clear. “We are going to do everything we can to give those teenagers a summer they won’t forget.”
