“I was just sure a man thoughtful enough to join the Handyman Ministry would understand how much a ranch trip could mean to at-risk town kids,” Rainy said.

So it was a cheap shot. Rainy had no remorse. She was accustomed to pushing when it came to getting things for foster children.

Nate leaned back in his chair, staring at her with exasperation. “You don’t give up, do you?”

A tiny smile tickled Rainy’s lips. “Never. Not when it comes to my kids.”

The cowboy across from her raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, they can come to my ranch.”

He was ready to cut and run like a wild horse. Better grab the opportunity while it was knocking.

MILLS & BOON

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LINDA GOODNIGHT

Winner of the 2007 RITA® Award for excellence in inspirational fiction, Linda Goodnight has also won the Booksellers’ Best, ACFW Book of the Year, and a Reviewers’ Choice Award from Romantic Times BOOKreviews. Linda has appeared on the Christian bestseller list and her romance novels have been translated into more than a dozen languages. Active in orphan ministry, this former nurse and teacher enjoys writing fiction that carries a message of hope and light in a sometimes dark world. She and husband Gene live in Oklahoma. Readers can write to her at linda@lindagoodnight.com, or c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.

Home to Crossroads Ranch
Linda Goodnight

For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God; not of works, lest any man should boast.

—Ephesians 2:8–9

In memory of my brother-in-law, Bill,

who loved kids better than anyone and who always

carried a pocketful of quarters or Tootsie Rolls to

“magically” pull from behind their ears. The world

is a sadder place without your booming laugh, your

boundless love and generosity, and your pure joy

in living for Christ. As you would always say in

parting, until we meet again, “Be cheerful.”

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Questions for Discussion

Chapter One

Nate Del Rio heard screams the minute he stepped out of his Super Crew Cab and started up the flower-lined sidewalk leading to Rainy Jernagen’s house. He double-checked the address scribbled on the back of a bill for horse feed. Sure enough, this was the place.

Adjusting his Stetson against a gust of March wind, he rang the doorbell expecting the noise to subside. It didn’t.

Somewhere inside the modest, tidy-looking brick house at least two kids were screaming their heads off in what sounded to his experienced ears like fits of temper. A television blasted out Saturday-morning cartoons.

He punched the doorbell again. Instead of the expected ding-dong, a raucous alternative Christian rock band added a few more decibels to the noise level.

Nate shifted the toolbox to his opposite hand and considered running for his life while he had the chance.

Too late. The bright red door whipped open. Nate’s mouth fell open with it.

When the men’s ministry coordinator from Bible Fellowship had called him, he’d somehow gotten the impression that he was coming to help a little old schoolteacher. In his mind, that meant the kind who only drove to school and church and had a big, fat cat.

Not so. The woman standing before him with taffy-blond hair sprouting out from a disheveled ponytail couldn’t possibly be any older than his thirty-one years. A big blotch of something purple stained the front of her white sweatshirt, and she was barefoot. Plus, she had a crying baby on each hip and a little red-haired girl hanging on one leg, bawling like a sick calf. And there wasn’t a cat in sight.

What had he gotten himself into?

“May I help you?” she asked over the racket. Her blue-gray eyes were a little too unfocused and bewildered for his comfort.

Raising his voice, he asked, “Are you Ms. Jernagen?”

“Yes,” she said cautiously. “I’m Rainy Jernagen. And you are…?”

“Nate Del Rio.”

She blinked, uncomprehending, all the while jiggling both babies up and down. One grabbed a hunk of her hair. She flinched, her head angling to one side, as she said, still cautiously, “Okaaay.”

Nate reached out and untwined the baby’s sticky fingers.

A relieved smile rewarded him. “Thanks. Is there something I can help you with?”

He hefted the red toolbox to chest level so she could see it. “From the Handyman Ministry. Jack Martin called. Said you had a washer problem.”

Understanding dawned. “Oh my goodness. Yes. I’m so sorry. You aren’t what I expected. Please forgive me.”

She wasn’t what he expected, either. Not in the least. Young and with a houseful of kids. He suppressed a shiver. Kids, even grown ones, could drive a person to distraction. He should know. His adult sister and brother were, at this moment, making his life as miserable as possible. The worst part was they did it all the time. Only this morning his sister Janine had finally packed up and gone back to Sal, giving Nate a few days’ reprieve.

“Come in, come in,” the woman was saying. “It’s been a crazy morning, what with the babies showing up at 3 a.m. and Katie having a sick stomach. Then while I was doing the laundry, the washing machine went crazy. Water everywhere.” She jerked her chin toward the inside of the house. “You’re truly a godsend.”

He wasn’t so sure about that, but he’d signed up for his church’s ministry to help single women and the elderly with those pesky little handyman chores like oil changes and leaky faucets. Most of his visits had been to older ladies who plied him with sweet tea and jars of homemade jam and talked about the good old days while he replaced a fuse or unstopped the sink. And their houses had been quiet. Real quiet.

Rainy Jernagen stepped back, motioning him in, and Nate very cautiously entered a room that should have had flashing red lights and a Danger Zone sign.

Toys littered the living room like it was Christmas morning. An overturned cereal bowl flowed milk onto a coffee table. Next to a playpen crowding one wall, a green package belched out disposable diapers. Similarly, baby clothes were strewn, along with a couple of kids, on the couch and floor. In a word, the place was a wreck.

“The washer is back this way behind the kitchen. Watch your step. It’s slippery.”

More than slippery. Nate kicked his way through the living room and the kitchen area. Though the kitchen actually appeared much tidier than the rest, he still caught the slow seepage of water coming from somewhere beyond the wall. The shine of liquid glistening on beige tile led them straight to the utility room.

“I turned the faucets off behind the washer when this first started, but a tubful still managed to pump out onto the floor.” She hoisted the babies higher on her hip and spoke to a young boy sitting on the floor. “Joshua, get out of those suds.”

“But they’re pretty, Miss Rainy.” The brown-haired boy with bright blue eyes grinned up at her, extending a handful of bubbles. Light reflected off each droplet. “See the rainbows? There’s always a rainbow, like you said. A rainbow behind the rain.”

Rainy smiled at the child. “Yes, there is. But right now, Mr. Del Rio needs to get in here to fix the washer. It’s a little crowded for all of us.” She was right about that. The space was no bigger than a small bathroom. “Can I get you to take the babies to the playpen while I show him around?”

“I’ll take them, Miss Rainy.” An older boy with a serious face and brown plastic glasses entered the room. Treading carefully, he came forward and took both babies, holding them against his slight chest. Another child appeared behind him, this one a girl with very blond hair and eyes the exact blue of the boy she’d called Joshua. How many children did this woman have, anyway? Six?

A heavy, smothery feeling pressed against his airway. Six kids?

Before he could dwell on that disturbing thought, a scream of sonic proportions rent the soap-fragrant air. He whipped around, ready to protect and defend.

The little blond girl and the redhead were going at it.

“It’s mine.” Blondie tugged hard on a doll.

“It’s mine. Will said so.” To add emphasis to her demand, the redhead screamed bloody murder. “Miss Rainy!”

About that time, Joshua decided to skate across the suds, and slammed into the far wall next to a door that probably opened into the garage. He grabbed his big toe and sent up a howl. Water sloshed as Rainy rushed forward and gathered him into her arms.

“Rainy!” Blondie screamed again.

“Rainy!” the redhead yelled.

Nate cast a glance at the garage exit and considered a fast escape.

Lord, I’m here to do a good thing. Can You help me out a little?

Rainy, her clothes now wet, somehow managed to take the doll from the fighting girls while snuggling Joshua against her side. The serious-looking boy stood in the doorway, a baby on each hip, taking in the chaos.

“Come on, Emma,” he said to Blondie. “I’ll make you some chocolate milk.” So they went, slip-sliding out of the flooded room.

Four down, two to go.

Nate clunked his toolbox onto the washer and tried to ignore the chaos. Not an easy task, but one he’d learned to deal with as a boy. As an adult, he did everything possible to avoid this kind of madness. The Lord had a sense of humor sending him to this particular house.

“I apologize, Mr. Del Rio,” Rainy said, shoving at the wads of hair that hung around her face like Spanish moss.

“Call me Nate. I’m not that much older than you.” Being the longtime patriarch of his family, he might feel seventy, but he wasn’t.

“Okay, Nate. And I’m Rainy. Really, it’s not usually this bad. I can’t thank you enough for coming over. I tried to get a plumber, but today being Saturday…” She shrugged, letting the obvious go unsaid. No one could get a plumber on the weekend.

“No problem.” He removed his white Stetson and placed it next to the toolbox. What was he supposed to say? That he loved wading through dirty soapsuds and listening to kids scream and cry? Not likely.

Rainy stood with an arm around each of the remaining children—the rainbow boy and the redhead. Her look of embarrassment had him feeling sorry for her. All these kids and no man around to help. With this many, she’d never find another husband, he was sure of that. Who would willingly take on a boatload of kids?

After a minute, Rainy and the remaining pair left the room and he got to work. Wiggling the machine away from the wall wasn’t easy. Even with all the water on the floor, a significant amount remained in the tub. This leftover liquid sloshed and gushed at regular intervals. In minutes, his boots were dark with moisture. No problem there. As a rancher, his boots were often dark with lots of things, the best of which was water.

On his haunches, he surveyed the back of the machine where hoses and cords and metal parts twined together like a nest of water moccasins.

As he investigated each hose in turn, he once more felt a presence in the room. Pivoting on his heels, he discovered the two boys squatting beside him, attention glued to the back of the washer. Blondie hovered in the background.

“A busted hose?” the oldest one asked, pushing up his glasses.

“Most likely.”

“I coulda fixed it but Rainy wouldn’t let me.”

“That so?”

“Yeah. Maybe. If someone would show me.”

Nate suppressed a smile. “What’s your name?”

“Will. This here’s my brother, Joshua.” He yanked a thumb at the younger one. “He’s nine. I’m eleven. My sister’s Emma. She’s seven. You go to Miss Rainy’s church?”

“I do, but it’s a big church. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“She’s nice. Most of the time. She never hits us or anything, and we’ve been here for six months.”

It occurred to Nate then that these were not Rainy’s children. The kids called her Miss Rainy, not Mom, and according to Will they had not been here forever. But what was a young, single woman doing with all these kids? Foster care? Nah, they didn’t let singles do that. Did they?

Rainy frantically tossed toys into a basket in an effort to clear up some of the mess. She never let things get like this. Of all the days to have a stranger come into her home. A young, nice-looking stranger at that.

Pausing with a stuffed bear against her cheek, she chuckled. The poor man looked as bewildered as if he’d walked into the Twilight Zone.

She’d had to call upon the Handyman Ministry before but her friendly rescuers had been older fatherly types, not a lanky young cowboy in starched jeans and boots with stubble on his chin and a dangerous set of dimples that split his cheeks like long parentheses. Killer dimples.

She tossed the bear into the basket and went for a sponge to soak up the coffee-table mess.

With dimples like that, Nate Del Rio was probably like every other guy she’d noticed in the last two years—married.

She heaved a heavy sigh and dabbed at the spilled milk. For years, she’d prayed for a godly husband, but the Lord didn’t appear interested in her single, lonely status or in the fact that she wanted kids. Lots of kids. The dates she’d had never filled the bill and after a while, she’d given up the dating game entirely. It was too stressful anyway.

If she couldn’t have a husband and kids, she’d settle for kids only.

But she wasn’t dead, and Nate Del Rio was an attractive man.

She clicked off the blasting television and then handed each of the babies in the playpen a rattle. Precious little lambs. They looked so bewildered by this new, unfamiliar environment. As soon as she had a minute, she needed to hold and rock them, give them the comfort they craved and deserved.

With the TV off, the room had grown a little too quiet. She glanced into the bedroom to find Katie sprawled on the floor, coloring. Good. Maybe her stomachache was gone. Now, where were the others?

With another quick, reassuring glance at the babies, she headed for the laundry room. The sibling trio was naturally nosy, but they also hungered for attention from any obliging adult.

Sure enough, Joshua and Will were squatting in an inch of water, peppering Nate with questions. Seven-year-old Emma, the blond charmer, hung over the man’s back, her slender arms looped around his neck like a small, friendly boa constrictor.

“Emma,” Rainy said gently. “It’s hard for Nate to work with you hanging on him. Why don’t you and the boys come out of here and leave him alone?”

“But, Miss Rainy, he’s teaching me how to change a hose so I can do it next time.” Will’s eyes were dead serious behind his glasses. That was the trouble with Will. He was too serious. He seldom laughed, didn’t play like a normal kid and considered his younger siblings to be his responsibility. Even after six months of consistent, loving care, he hadn’t loosened up. The boy needed a strong man in his life, one of the reasons Rainy worried about adopting him and his siblings, though she longed to do so. She could love and nurture, but she could never be a male role model. She could, however, expose him to good ones and pray that would be enough.

The cowboy handyman twisted his head in her direction. “He’s a quick learner.”

Rainy beamed as if the compliment was for her. She saw the flush of pleasure on Will’s cheeks and decided she liked Nate Del Rio. “He is. Thanks.”

She bent to unwind Emma from the man’s neck. “This one is a charmer, but also a pest at times.” With a counselor and lots of prayers, they were working on Emma’s weak personal boundaries. “Come on, Emma. I need help with the babies.”

Emma came, but gazed longingly at the cowboy’s back. “He’s nice.”

Rainy stood in the doorway for a minute, watching and listening to Nate’s low voice explaining the great mysteries of washing machines to the two rapt boys. His patience with them solidified her conclusion that he had kids of his own.

She chided herself for being disappointed. She did not covet another woman’s husband. She simply wanted one of her own.

“Is there anything you need before I go on about my business?” she asked.

Without turning, he shook his head. “Got all the help I need right now. Thanks.”

She wasn’t sure how he meant that, but she let it go and headed back to the disaster area that had once been her home.

By the time she’d set things to right, fed both babies and put them down for a nap, Katie had thrown up again. Wearily, she cleaned up the mess, took the child’s temperature and debated calling the doctor. The last thing any of them needed was a virus spreading through the house.

Going to her bedroom to change the now disgusting sweat suit, she happened to glance in the mirror. The Wicked Witch of the West stared back.

Bags the size of carry-on luggage puffed beneath her eyes. Her hair shot out in every direction. She slapped at it. Had she combed it at all this morning?

With a growing sense of chagrin, she knew she hadn’t. She had shoved the shoulder-length mass into a scrunchie in the wee hours of the morning when the social worker arrived with the babies. After that she never made it back to bed because Katie had started throwing up. Then the washer had sprung a leak and she’d been too busy to care about how she looked.

Horrid. She looked horrid. Horror-movie horrid.

No wonder the kids were crying. She was tempted to do the same.

Quickly yanking away the scrunchie along with a few hairs, Rainy ran a brush over her head and put the ponytail up again. Better.

She leaned into the mirror and grimaced. Makeup. Fast.

She dabbed a little concealer under each eye, mostly to no avail, stroked some mascara on thick lashes and added a hint of pink lip gloss. She was no beauty, but she normally tried to accent her best features, thick lashes and a tilted, full mouth. Today she’d settle for not frightening small children.

“Miss Rainy!”

This would have to do. Without a backward glance, she rushed toward the sound of Katie’s voice.

The child lay on the couch where Rainy had left her, a pink Hello Kitty blanket up to her chin.

“What is it, punkin? Are you feeling sick again?”

“I want a Pop-Tart.”

“Are you sure that’s such a good idea? How about something gentle on your tummy first and then the Pop-Tart later.”

A million russet freckles stood out on the sad, pale face. “Okay.”

Rainy entered the kitchen as Nate Del Rio and the boys entered from the opposite end. Nate glanced up at her, surprise registering in his eyes.

“You look—” He seemed to catch himself, for which she would be eternally grateful, and said instead, “We’re all finished. If you’ll hand us a mop, we’ll sop up some of the water for you.”

“Oh, goodness no. Don’t bother. I’ll do the sopping up. You’ve done enough.” She whipped toward the broom closet and took out a sponge mop. “Why don’t you have a seat and let me get you some cookies and milk.”

Those dimples of his activated. Killer dimples. Goodness.

“Cookies and milk? Sounds great. My breakfast wore off after the stop at Milly Jenkins’s.”

“Milly?” Rainy propped the mop against the wall, only to have it taken by Will, who disappeared into the laundry room with faithful Joshua by his side. “Doesn’t she play the organ at church?”

“Yep. Nice lady. Her old Mercury needed new spark plugs.”

Rainy took down two glasses and filled them with cold milk, then added milk to the ongoing grocery list posted on the fridge. “This ministry is a real blessing to people, Nate. I hope you men who volunteer realize that.”

“It’s a blessing to us, too,” he said simply, and she liked him for the sentiment. Nice guy. No wonder some smart woman had snapped him up like the last chocolate truffle.

With a plate of yesterday’s homemade double chocolate chip cookies in hand, she joined him at the round glass table. She still questioned her sanity for buying a glass dining table with so many children coming and going, but other than the persistent presence of small fingerprints, the glass had held up well so far.

Nate reached for a cookie, bit, chewed. “Wow. Powerful.”

“I hope that means good. I tend to be a little heavy-handed on the chocolate, especially during high-stress days.”

“With all these little ones underfoot, those are probably pretty frequent.” He sipped at his milk, managing not to create a milk mustache. “What is this anyway? A day care?”

Rainy broke an edge off a moist cookie and held it between thumb and finger. “I’m a foster mom.”

“They let singles do that?”

“The Department of Human Services is desperate for foster moms. So, yes. They do.”

“That explains it, then.”

She laughed. “Explains what? The total chaos?”

He had the grace to look guilty. “Well…”

“Today is unusual. You see, I normally take on only school-age children because I’m a teacher. I have to work. But last night, actually early this morning, I got an emergency call from the social worker about the two babies.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Most calls do come at night, unfortunately. Nighttime seems to be when families fall apart. Drugs, drinking, and in this case, those eighteen-month-old twins were found alone in a car outside a casino.”

She didn’t mention the ongoing problem faced by the beleaguered social worker. There were not enough foster homes to care for all the needy children. And Rainy had trouble saying no, regardless of how full her house might be.

“The babies were in the car? While their mother was in the casino?”

“Yes. She’d been there for hours.”

His horrified look matched her own reaction. “It’s still cold outside.”

March might be springtime, but at night the Oklahoma temperature tumbled to freezing.

“I know. Very cold, not to mention dangerous as all get out. Anyone could have stolen those children.” She popped the bite of cookie into her mouth and almost sighed at the rich, gooey chocolate flavor. “That’s why I agreed to take them until the social worker can find another placement, hopefully today.”

“Brutal.”

He could say that again. Foster care was not for the faint of heart. She’d heard some hair-raising tales and encountered far too many broken children, the exact reason she persevered. God had planted a mission inside her to make a difference in these forgotten kids’ lives. And with God’s help, she was succeeding, one child at a time.

“Another cookie?” She pushed the plate toward him. “Or will your wife be upset if you spoil your lunch with sweets?”

She hoped the question was as subtle as she wanted it to be.

As he chewed, Nate shook his head from side to side. “Nope. No problem there.”

Okay, so she wanted to know for sure. Still playing innocent, she asked, “She doesn’t mind?”

“She doesn’t exist.”

It took Rainy two beats to comprehend.

Nate Del Rio with the killer dimples was single.

Chapter Two

If there was one thing Rainy never wanted to be, it was a desperate, husband-hunting woman. So she refused to be happy that the handsome cowboy sitting across from her was unmarried. He was what he was. And so was she.

After she’d hung out her shingle to be a foster mother, with the intention of adopting as many kids as the Lord saw fit, she’d put aside her dreams of a husband. Mostly. If God dropped the right guy into her lap, she wouldn’t argue. She just wasn’t going out looking anymore.

“So how long have you attended Bible Fellowship?” Nate was asking.

“Since I moved here five years ago. It’s a great church, lots of outreach to the needy, which I think is paramount, plus I love the small-group Bible studies. And the kids’ ministry, of course.”

“Of course.” One side of his mouth quirked. “So you’re not from around here, then?”

“Tulsa.”

Both eyebrows joined the quirked lips. “City girl.”

“I am not!” She leaned back in her chair, saw he was teasing, and laughed. “Well, not entirely. I like the smaller town life. That’s why I took the job at Robert E. Lee.”

“Summervale isn’t too small anymore.”

“No, but a good mix of small town and big city, don’t you think?”

“Mostly. Traffic’s gotten snarly since they put in the mall.”

“Nothing like Tulsa at rush hour.”

He shuddered. “Spare me that. Three cars on a country road are enough for me. What grade you teach?”

“Second. Five years, and I can’t imagine doing anything else. Kids that age are a hoot—their wiggles, their gap-toothed smiles, their concrete, literal way of looking at the world.”

He glanced toward the living room, where the children had adjourned. Mercifully, the house had settled into a quieter rhythm with only a now lower rumble of Cartoon Network and an occasional shh or giggle from one of the foursome.

“You like kids.” His statement sounded a lot like an accusation.

“Crazy about them.” Feeling no need to justify what was as natural as breathing, Rainy took another sip of milk. “What do you do, besides rush to the rescue of stressed-out women and their washing machines?”

“Ranch.”

“Really? A real ranch, like with horses and cows?”

“You are a city girl.”

“Am not,” she said mildly. “So do you?”

“Have horses and cows? Sure. Mostly cattle since that’s how I make my living. Angus beef. But I keep a few horses for fun. I mostly use a Mule for the real work these days.”

Rainy leaned an elbow on the table, fascinated. She had no idea cowboys rode mules now instead of horses. The idea of lanky Nate on the back of a stubborn mule conjured up a funny mental picture, but she refused to laugh. The guy had gone above and beyond.

Besides, what she knew about ranches and cowboys would fit on a pencil eraser. But a ranch had animals. She knew that for certain, and animals were good for kids. She’d read any number of articles about their therapeutic value with people who were hurting. Like a tiny seedpod, an idea began to germinate.

She was always on the lookout for opportunities for the children, especially her boys. They needed far more than she could teach them. The only animal she had room or time for was Ralph, the fighting beta fish that only serious Will seemed the least bit interested in. But that was because Will worried about everything and everyone, considering himself the caretaker of the world.

A ranch meant lots of animals, lots of opportunities, maybe even healing of some of the hurts these children had experienced, and of equal importance, a male role model and a little recreation.

“Would you consider letting me bring the kids out to your ranch sometime?”

Nate blinked and the air around him stilled. “Why?”

What an odd question. “To see the animals, to see what you do on a ranch. Broaden their horizons. You know, the kind of experiences they won’t get here in this crowded subdivision.”

She loved her home and neighborhood with its family-oriented residents and tidy, colorful flowerbeds and walkways, but most of the yards were small, and houses butted up against each other on either side. A ranch meant room to spread out and run and be noisy.

Nate didn’t appear to be of the same train of thought. Reluctance hung on him like a wet shirt. He studied the rim of his milk glass, gnawed one corner of his lip and didn’t look at her. “A working ranch is no place for kids.”

Weak excuse. And she was a teacher. Did he think she’d let him get by with that?

“Then, how does one learn to be a rancher?”

The question seemed to agitate him. He leaned forward, forearms on the table’s edge, hazel eyes clouding toward mud-brown. “I grew up in the country. Farm animals were a part of the natural order of things.”

Having taken to heart Christ’s command to care for the needy and orphaned, Rainy was accustomed to pushing when it came to getting things for foster children. After all, she was on a mission for God. If God approved, she didn’t care in the least if people found her pushy. “Are you implying that only those who grow up in the country can be farmers or ranchers?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

She smiled, feeling victory coming on. One more little push and he’d tumble like stacked dominos. “I’m so glad. I was positive a man thoughtful enough to join the Handyman Ministry would understand how much this could mean to at-risk town kids.”

So it was a cheap shot. Rainy had no remorse.

Nate leaned back in his chair, hands dropping into his lap as he stared at her with exasperation. “You don’t give up, do you?”

A tiny smile tickled Rainy’s lips. “Never. Not when it comes to my foster kids.”

This time, she was the one who leaned forward, pressing, determined as a terrier, her voice dropping low so the children didn’t hear. “You met my kids, Nate, but you have no idea what they’ve lived through. They’re survivors, but they carry scars. Will is too serious and considers the other children his responsibility. Joshua is my encourager, but he shivers and shakes at the first sign of conflict. Emma’s charm can be manipulative. And Katie, poor little Katie—” She choked, tears filling her throat. She had not intended to go this far.

The cowboy across from her raised both hands in surrender. “Okay. They can come.”

Rainy pressed back against the hard, wooden chair and drew in a deep, relaxing breath. Thoughts of what these children had suffered and witnessed always tore her apart.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get teary on you.”

“No big deal.”

But she could see it was. Her handyman was ready to cut and run like a wild horse. Better grab the opportunity while it was knocking. Besides, one trip to the ranch would be a nice start, but she really had something more in mind. “How about tomorrow after church?”

He flinched. “So soon?”

“The weather is supposed to be decent tomorrow. And the kids will go wild with excitement. I promise to keep a tight rein on them. They’re good kids.” When he lifted a doubtful brow, she rushed on, “Really. I promise. Great kids. What do you say?”

Before he could answer, Katie’s scream ripped through the air. Rainy pushed back from the table to see what was amiss this time.

“Great kids, huh?” Nate said without a bit of humor. “You could sell that scream to Hollywood.”

Rainy chuckled anyway. “I know. Pure, high and bloodcurdling. And most of the time, she’s screaming about nothing.” The scream, however, was Katie’s way to communicate. “Katie has some issues we’re working through, but today the scream might indicate another episode of throwing up. I’ll have to check.”

Nate got that helpless, eager-to-escape expression again. Well, who could blame the poor guy? No one—not even Rainy—liked dealing with a stomach virus.

As she pushed out of the chair, Will came into the kitchen. “Katie’s all right. She’s mad because I gave one of the babies a stuffed animal.”

“No throw up?” she asked.

“No.” The boy’s serious eyes glanced at the cookies.

“Want one?” Nate offered the plate and then thought to ask Rainy, “Is it okay if he has one? He helped me out back there with the hose. Good worker.”

Will took the cookie before she could reply, although she would have said yes anyway. “Joshy and Emma got scared. They’re hiding in the closet again.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s a cop coming up the sidewalk.”

Nate watched as Rainy Jernagen’s face alternately paled and then flushed, a hot-pink color flaring on delicate cheekbones.

“Are we in trouble?” Will asked, his face alive with worry.

Rainy placed a hand on the boy’s narrow shoulder, and in a soft, calm voice asked, “Have we done anything to be in trouble?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Then we have nothing to fear from the police.” She dipped her head low, making eye contact. “They’re our friends, remember?”

From the way the boy’s eyes shifted away, Nate figured he didn’t buy that. Negative experience must have left a scar.

“Anything I can do to help?” he heard himself asking, though in reality, he’d had about all of the Jernagen house he wanted for one day. He was baffled as to why he wasn’t escaping out through the garage.

On second thought, the police wouldn’t look kindly on a male slithering out the back way while they stood on the front porch.

Rainy lifted blue-gray eyes to his, and he knew why he hadn’t already cut and run.

A few minutes ago, she’d gotten to him with the mere hint of tears—he was a sucker for a woman’s tears, as his sister well knew. And Rainy was kind and gentle and patient with the children, even though she was obviously running on adrenaline and little sleep. She was cute, too, now that her hair was brushed and she didn’t look like a troll doll about to explode with stress. If he was truthful, she’d been cute all along, though he’d not wanted to notice.

But he was a man, and admiring a pretty, sweet woman came naturally. He couldn’t change biology.

If she didn’t have this passel of kids, he might even have asked her out.

A chill tingled his nerve endings.

If was a big, big word. He and kids didn’t mix, and Rainy’s devotion to the children was obviously more than a do-good activity to make herself feel charitable. She was passionate, with a missionary zeal.

Nate Del Rio simply did not understand the sentiment. Kids were a pain. Trouble. He knew from ugly, tenacious experience.

The doorbell played another round of hideous rock music. Rainy jumped.

She gave Will a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a gentle push. “If you’ll check on Emma and Josh, I’ll talk to the policeman first and then I’ll be right in. Don’t worry. Everything is fine.”

She started into the living room, knees trembling. The nervous reaction made her almost as angry as the notion of someone intentionally frightening her kids. And she had no doubt this was the case.

Strong fingers caught her by the arm. “Why don’t I answer the door?” Nate said. “So you can take care of the little ones.”

She blinked her surprise, touched by his concern. “Thanks, but we’ve done this before. It will only take a minute.”

He dropped his hold. “The police come here often?”

“More often than I’d like,” she said grimly.

Kathy Underkircher and her hostility were wearing thin, for Rainy was certain that the woman who had decided to hate her for reasons that had nothing to do with these children had once again called the police.

“Why? You don’t seem the kind to cause trouble.”

“I’m not.” She waved him off. “It’s too complicated to explain right now.”

The doorbell screamed again and, under other circumstances, Nate’s flinch would have made Rainy laugh. The awful music had that effect on everyone.

“What is with the musical doorbell?” he asked.

“My brother installed it. His idea of a joke.” She pushed a stray lock of hair behind one ear and said a little prayer as she gazed around the living room. The place looked better, if not perfect. But who expected perfect with children?

“Not your kind of music?”

“What?” she asked. “Oh, the bell. Despise it. Don’t know how to dismantle it.” She reached for the doorknob as the raucous tune restarted. Through gritted teeth, she said, “If that thing wakes the babies, I’ll take a hammer to it.”

Behind her Nate chuckled. “Sounds like a handyman job to me.”

It occurred to her then that he was still here. By now the handsome cowboy—the handsome single cowboy—would be convinced he’d fallen into some alternative dimension filled with screaming kids, throw up, overflowing washers, irritating music and a policeman on the doorstep. Could her day get any worse? Might as well find out.

She ripped the door open with a little more force than needed.

A familiar officer in a blue uniform stood in the cool shade of the tulip-bordered porch. Sun glinted off his silver Summervale police badge.

“Miss Jernagen?”

“Hello, Officer Wagner,” she said with a sigh. “Kathy Underkircher again?”

The policeman’s head dipped slightly. “Anonymous caller. Sorry to disturb you but screaming was reported again. Is there a problem?”

The anonymous caller was Kathy, all right. The woman would never forgive her, no matter how she tried to mend the rift.

“None that needs police,” Nate said, stepping up beside Rainy to extend his hand to the officer. “Nate Del Rio. Rainy and I attend the same church. Don’t I know you?”

“Del Rio?” the young officer rubbed his chin. “Yeah, yeah. You got that ranch outside of town. Right?”

“That’s right. Crossroads Ranch.”

“My dad bought a heifer off you a while back for my little brother’s agriculture project at school. I came with him to pick her up.”

Nate’s head bobbed. “I remember. Good breeding stock.”

Rainy looked back and forth between the two men. It was considerate of Nate to be cordial but he had no idea she and Officer Wagner were old hands at this. She didn’t need anyone to soften up the policeman with chitchat.

“Listen, gentlemen, I have four frightened children in there to attend to. Could we have this little reunion later?”

Chagrined, the officer nodded. “Sorry, ma’am. Do you mind if I come in? Check things out?”

“You know there’s nothing wrong in here,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am, but I have to check.”

“I know. I know.” She rolled her eyes heavenward, as much to beseech the Lord’s help as for effect. “What a crying shame that Kathy can’t get a life of her own and leave mine alone.”

To let the officer in, she stepped back…and collided with the cowboy. Strong fingers caught her upper shoulders. “Whoa now.”

A few minutes ago, she’d been entertaining the idea of getting to know him better. Now that she was completely humiliated, she wanted him gone before she and her family further debased themselves in his presence.

“Nate, I appreciate your help in fixing the washer. Thanks so much. I’ll call you later about visiting the ranch.”

Nate didn’t seem the least bit moved by her obvious dismissal. “Someone’s crying back there.”

Her head swung toward the back of the house and then returned to the officer. “I need to see about the kids.”

“This will only take a minute.”

“I’ll go.” Before she could protest, Nate’s lanky legs carried him down the hall.

Surprised and more than a little touched, Rainy lifted both hands toward the officer and said, “Come on in and have a look. This morning has been incredibly hectic but all the noise is harmless, as always. Katie had a stomach virus. She screams when she hurts. Or about any other time she wants to communicate.”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand.” The officer glanced around the now tidy living room. “I see you have a couple of new ones over there.”

“Temporaries. They arrived last night.” She cast a glance toward the bedrooms. The crying had stopped.

Astonishingly, the twins remained asleep. As if he couldn’t resist, the sturdy young cop headed toward the playpen. “I got one about this size. They can be into everything.”

“These two have been so exhausted, they’ve mostly slept and eaten.”

“That’s not natural,” he said with a chuckle. “Just wait till they get rested up.”

“Hopefully, social services will find another placement for them by then. I’m not exactly set up for infants.” She turned toward the hallway. “The other children are back here. But please be very gentle with them. They’re terrified of you.”

“I’m sorry about that, but I have to do my job.”

“I know. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Officer Wagner was young, fresh-faced and genuinely kind, but that had never mattered to the kids. He wore a uniform and that was enough to set Joshua and Emma back for a week. Didn’t Kathy Underkircher understand that the real victims of her animosity were innocent children? Even if she knew, would she care?

Bitterness gathered like acid on Rainy’s tongue. She’d prayed about the woman, asking the Lord to deal with Kathy’s hard heart. And now this. Again. On the worst day possible. In front of Nate.

Thanks a lot, Lord.

Whipping around, she led Officer Wagner through the house and pushed open the door to her bedroom. Her embarrassment at having two men see her unmade bed and pink pajamas was quickly forgotten. Nate Del Rio perched on the edge of her desk chair with Emma clinging to his knee like a blond wood tick. The boys were huddled next to his sides like baby chicks against a hen. In ordinary circumstances, the comparison of the hunky cowboy with a hen would have been amusing. Today, the sight was endearing.

“Everything okay in here?” she asked, her gaze searching each of the children’s faces.

Will nodded solemnly. Joshua, bless his heart, trembled like an earthquake but followed his brother’s example. Rainy’s heart ached for the little guy. Emma’s wide, troubled eyes were glued to the policeman.

“As you can see, Officer,” Nate said, dropping a hand onto each of the boys’ shoulders, “the kids are fine.”

“Is this all of them?”

Katie chose that moment to answer for herself. She screamed.

Chapter Three

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.

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