A Ranch to Call Home. Leann Harris

A Ranch to Call Home - Leann  Harris


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living with his mother, but once he’d had custody of his brother, they’d never gone without. “I understand.”

      His tone must’ve caught her ear, because her gaze searched his. “You do?”

      “Yup, I had more peanut-butter-and-sugar sandwiches and ramen noodles than I care to think about.”

      Razor bumped her shoulder. “Sorry, big guy, you ate it all.” She rubbed his nose. “I’ll come prepared with more next time.” Razor nodded.

      “I think you’re on his good side.”

      “I’m glad I haven’t completely lost my touch, unlike my stumbling into this rodeo deal. Joel may have thought he pulled one on me, but I’m not going to let you and my brother off the hook. I’ll need help.” Her tone brooked no argument.

      He raised his hands. “I told you I’d help.”

      She nodded. “This rodeo is scheduled for the last weekend of May. That gives me ten weeks. I’ve done events for the army in less time, but I had the manpower.”

      “Which means that you’re going to be working us hard.”

      “You got it, cowboy.” The humor in her eyes matched the curve of her lips. “Will you be available? You don’t have a rodeo scheduled, do you?”

      Her consideration astonished and sobered him. He knew if he called Steve Carter now, he could be working next week. She hadn’t assumed. She’d thought to ask. At her rank, issuing orders was natural. His respect for her grew. “I’ve got the time, and between you and Joel, I think you’ll keep me busy.”

      “Thanks, Caleb.” She turned and walked toward the house. He saw that she limped noticeably. When she got to the stairs, she paused, then slowly placed her right foot on the first step. She brought her left foot up to the riser before she tackled the next one. He knew she’d broken both legs in several places, but never once today had she complained.

      Razor nudged him with his nose.

      “Well, you made me look like an idiot. Here I was issuing a warning about what a skittish creature you are.” Razor moved his head, wanting his chin scratched. “Then you rolled over for her like a big puppy. I bet Bart McQueen would be amazed.” Bart had a nasty bruise on his thigh thanks to Razor.

      Razor picked his head up and nodded.

      “Traitor,” he grumbled as he walked to his trailer. Shucking off his boots, he stretched out on the bunk. Folding his arms behind his head, he remembered Kaye’s struggle up the steps.

      The lady had guts. And smarts. And he didn’t doubt she was going to run Joel and him to the ground.

      Oddly, he didn’t mind.

      * * *

      Kaye reread the verse Ps 94:17. Unless the Lord had been my help, my soul had almost dwelt in silence. She closed her Bible and felt the deep peace that scripture brought her. She remembered waking up in the hospital in Ramstein, Germany hearing that verse. She’d been in and out of consciousness, and when she’d finally awoken, night nurse 2nd Lt. Jenna Mayfield had been there, reading to her from the Bible.

      Each time Kaye read that verse, she knew that God had shielded her. “I don’t know what I’m to do now, Lord. Why’d you save me and not the others?” She’d been meeting a group of Iraqi women, talking to them, seeing what they needed and how the U.S. Army could help them. They’d made progress. After nearly four months, the women had trusted her enough to tell her of the dreams they had for their children. They’d been excited about the opening of a new school, and even girls were being educated. They’d been friends. She recalled clearly each face and the hope and excitement.

      She took a long steadying breath as the sorrow washed over her. None of the five women had made it. The only reason Kaye had survived was because when the bomb went off she’d been reaching down to pick up her backpack to get the small gifts she had for their children. After the incident, Kaye knew none of the other women in the neighborhood would talk or cooperate with the Americans. She carried the weight of that guilt. That was the main reason she resigned.

      The light knock on the door caught her by surprise. “Sis?”

      “Come in, Joel.”

      He cracked the door. “I wanted to say thanks again for doing this.” He walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “When I saw you standing there in the emergency room, it seemed like an answer to prayer. I didn’t know how I was going to manage Gramps, the ranch and this rodeo at the same time.”

      “Caleb was here.”

      Joel’s eyes widened. “He’s a guy.”

      She cocked her head. “So?”

      “Guys aren’t as good as girls at taking care of sick folks.”

      “Please, Joel. I’ve been watching men do the cooking and cleaning and nursing for the past twelve years.”

      “Okay.” He raised his hands. “But you are an answer to prayer. I’m glad you’re home, Sis.”

      Was she an answer to prayer? Hardly, but was this rodeo an answer to prayer? “I’m glad I’m home, too, and Gramps is okay.”

      “You’re planning on staying, aren’t you?”

      “I don’t know, Joel. I know this is where I should be now. Helping with the rodeo might help me to know what my next step is.”

      Joel slipped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “My mind went on overload when Caleb called this morning. I honestly don’t know how we moved the tractor, but we did.” He rubbed his neck. “I hope you don’t mind that Caleb’s here and spent time at the ranch.”

      “Why would I mind? I haven’t lived here in a long time.”

      “You still own half of this ranch.”

      “If you want to be technical, yes, but really, this place is yours. You’re the guy who put his sweat and blood into it and oversaw everything since Mom and Dad died. You and Gramps.”

      He nodded. “I’m glad you feel that way. Welcome home, Sis.” He kissed her cheek and walked out of the room.

      Turning off the light, she slipped between the sheets. Home. She was really home. The house hadn’t changed much since she’d left, kind of like it was in a male time warp. The only thing new was the sixty-inch TV that took over half the wall in the living room. And that dishwasher. The house sported a twenty-year-old stove, a toaster that belonged to her grandmother, a washer and dryer her mother had bought the year Kaye was born. But that brand-spanking-new TV had all the bells and whistles on it and sported the football and rodeo channels.

      Men were so predictable.

      And when she’d walked into her bedroom earlier today, there had stood Caleb among all the tokens that the teenage Brenda had thought were important. It had rattled her and touched part of her soul she buried with her divorce. Here was a handsome man who saw her as a woman. Not Captain Kaye, meal-ticket Kaye or poor, pitiful Brenda who’d lost her parents.

      Joel may have thought he’d put one over on her by dumping this rodeo in her lap, but she welcomed it. She’d been restless these past few weeks as she finished her equine therapy. Being around horses had put a longing in her heart to go home. But she’d known if she went home, she’d have to make peace with the past she’d successfully avoided until now. The thought frightened her. But maybe working on the rodeo would keep her busy enough to deal with the past or ignore it, which she preferred. And maybe she’d find the road God wanted her to walk for the rest of her life.

      Maybe.

      Chapter Three

      “Yes, Nan, I’ll be in contact. And rest assured Joel definitely isn’t getting off scot-free,” Kaye added, getting up from the formal dining room table. One of the house phones had a cordless


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