A Home for His Heart

All Tanner Johns ever wanted was a place to call home. After inheriting Wranglers Ranch, Tanner is determined to carry on with his guardian’s legacy and turn it into a camp for troubled kids. Widow Sophie Armstrong is just as focused on her goals—and on raising her two young children…alone. Meeting the rugged cowboy changes everything. Tanner is a natural with her kids, and he lightens Sophie’s load in ways she couldn’t have imagined. But as the shadows in his past come between them, Tanner must convince Sophie he’s a man she can count on—for keeps.

“It’s Mr. Cowboy,” Beth yelled, racing to the door.

Then to Sophie’s utter dismay, her daughter said to Tanner, “Houston, we have a problem.”

Tall, lanky and lean, with wide denim-clad shoulders that looked perfect for leaning on, Tanner Johns was every woman’s fantasy cowboy.

Not her fantasy cowboy, of course, but—

“What’s the problem, er, Houston?” His gaze rested on Sophie.

Sophie couldn’t explain because there was something wrong with her breathing. As in, she couldn’t. Then Davy came racing down the stairs, tripped on the perpetually loose runner at the bottom tread and tumbled headlong into the cowboy’s arms. Tanner caught her son and held on just long enough to make sure Davy could stand on his own.

“Something I said?” he joked, winking at her.

The man winked at her! The control Sophie had almost recovered vanished. She figured she probably looked like a beached fish, gulping for air. Stupidly, she wished she’d had time to fix her hair.

Where’s your independence now?

LOIS RICHER loves traveling, swimming and quilting, but mostly she loves writing stories that show God’s boundless love for His precious children. As she says, “His love never changes or gives up. It’s always waiting for me. My stories feature imperfect characters learning that love doesn’t mean attaining perfection. Love is about keeping on keeping on.” You can contact Lois via email, loisricher@gmail.com, or on Facebook (Facebook.com/LoisRicherAuthor).

The Rancher’s Family Wish
Lois Richer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Fan into flame the gift of God that is within you.

—2 Timothy 1:6

For James,

who teaches me about love and trust.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

Bible Verse

Dedication

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

Dear Reader

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

“Mr. Cowboy!”

Lost in thoughts of his upcoming meeting, Tanner Johns barely registered the call of the child standing outside the door of the Tucson grocery store he’d just left.

“Hey, Mr. Cowboy!”

When the call came a third time, Tanner realized the girl had to be addressing him since there was no one else in the parking lot wearing cowboy boots and a Stetson, no one else who could even remotely be called a cowboy. He walked toward the child, taken aback by her extraordinary beauty. The piercing scrutiny of intense blue eyes enhanced her ivory skin and flaxen hair. He was a few feet away when he noticed the obvious signs of Down syndrome.

“Were you calling me?” Tanner glanced around to be certain.

“Uh-huh.” Her smile made her skin glow.

“Why?” Tanner automatically smiled back. This little cutie was a looker with a grin that would melt the most weather-beaten hide.

“’Cause you’re a cowboy and cowboys have ranches.” Her bell-like voice carried on January’s breeze as it whispered across blacktop shimmering in the Arizona heat.

Several people turned to study them. After a glimpse at Tanner their focus veered to the child, benevolent smiles widening when they spied the big cage at her feet. Wait a minute—rabbits? How had he missed that?

“A ranch is a good place to keep bunnies,” she said.

“Uh, how many are there?” Tanner couldn’t decipher one ball of fur from another.

“Only eight.” She was probably five or six, he guessed. Sadness filled her voice as she explained, “We can’t keep them anymore.”

“I see.” In spite of Tanner’s reluctance to get involved, her innocence evoked a memory long buried inside him. Had he ever been that guileless?

“What happened to your face, Mr. Cowboy?” The question was open and honest. Tanner liked her steady stare better than others’ quick gawks. Empathy beamed out from her blue eyes. “Does it hurt?”

“A little,” he admitted. “I scratched myself on a wire fence.”

“People stare at you.” She nodded. “They stare at me, too. It’s ’cause we’re different.”

“They stare at you because you’re beautiful.” Affection for this spunky child flared inside him. “And because you’re special.” He meant her Down syndrome.

“I’m not special.” She shook her blond head firmly. “I’m just me. Mama says I’m exactly the way God made me.” The happiness wreathing her round face made Tanner wish he’d had a mother like hers. His brain skittered away from that sensitive subject.

“Where is your mom?” Tanner glanced around curiously.

“Getting my brother.” She pointed to a young woman with glossy, shoulder-length hair. It was clear the mom was trying to reason with a reluctant boy whom she held by one arm as she drew him forward. Her brightly flowered sundress billowed around her slim figure. She looked too young to have a daughter and a son. “That’s Davy. He gets mad. A lot.”

“What’s your name?” Tanner forced his gaze from the brunette’s lovely face to the girl in front of him. Mother and daughter shared translucent skin that seemed to bloom from within, but that’s where the resemblance between the cute mom and this blonde sweetheart ended.

“I’m Beth. I’m almost six.” When she grinned, dimples appeared in her apple cheeks.

“Pleased to meet you, Beth.” Tanner held out a hand. He suppressed a laugh when she shook it heartily, her face completely serious. Beth’s trusting gaze made him feel ten feet tall.

“Cowboys have horses, don’t they?” Beth scanned the parking lot with a frown.

“Yes.” Tanner choked down his mirth. “But today I left Samson at the ranch.”

Beth’s mother arrived breathless, studying him with a protective look flickering in her cocoa-toned eyes. Beauty certainly ran in this family.

“Hello. I’m Tanner Johns. Beth was just asking if I’d take her rabbits to my ranch.”

“Will you?” A desperation the harried mother couldn’t mask leached through her words before she huffed a laugh. “Sorry, that was rude. I’m Sophie Armstrong. This is my son, Davy—David.”

“Nice to meet you both.” Tanner took one look at the surly-faced boy and returned his attention to the easy-on-the-eyes mother.

“So can you take the rabbits?” The pleading in Sophie’s voice was hard enough to resist, but that sound—half hope, half desperation—that’s what got to Tanner. “I’d be very grateful.”

“I—uh—” You should have walked away, Tanner.

“Do we have to give them all away, Mama?” Beth’s gaze implored her mother to rethink her decision.

“I’m sorry but we do, honey. Mrs. Jones is very upset that the bunnies got out of their pen again and ate her flowers.” The gentleness of Sophie’s “mom” voice and the tender brush of her fingers against her daughter’s flaxen head didn’t need translation. She loved this child.

“Who cares about stupid old rabbits?” Davy scoffed. “Good riddance.”

The words were a bluff to hide his anger. Tanner knew that because as a kid he’d used that same tone when life had jabbed him with reality once too often. But when Beth’s blue eyes watered and her bottom lip wobbled, Tanner’s chest tightened.

“Davy, that’s mean,” his mother reproved. “Beth loves the rabbits.”

“She shouldn’t. We always have to let go of stuff we love.” The boy turned away to scuff his toe against a hump in the pavement, head bent, shoulders stiff.

Sophie’s face fell and her amazing smile dimmed. Though Tanner understood the pain behind the words, he wanted to ream out the kid for hurting his lovely mother and sister.

Whoa! You don’t do getting involved, Tanner, his brain scoffed. Never have, though Burt tried his best to teach you. Walk away.

But two pairs of eyes, one a rich Arizona sky blue and one dark as the dust trails on Mount Lemmon’s highest slopes, wouldn’t let him leave.

“I can’t—that is, uh, I don’t know anything about keeping rabbits.” Tanner gazed longingly at his truck, his way of escape. Why had he answered Beth’s call in the first place?

“Okay, thanks anyway.” Sophie smiled politely as her fingers squeezed Beth’s shoulder. “Come on, kids. Let’s get these guys loaded up. We’ll have to take them to the pet shelter. I don’t dare take them home again or Mrs. Jones will call the landlord.”

“Old bag,” Davy muttered almost under his breath.

“Manners, David,” his mother reproved. “Now let’s get moving. I’m working tonight, remember?”

“Again,” Davy complained in a grumpy tone.

“Yes, again. Because that’s how I pay for those new sneakers you’re wearing. So carry the cage, Davy, and let’s go.” Sophie Armstrong offered Tanner a distracted smile before urging the children forward.

As they walked away Tanner heard Beth protest.

“This morning you said the pet shelter can’t keep them,” she said. “What will happen to our bunnies, Mama?”

“God will take care of them.” Sophie paused long enough to glance Tanner’s way. He thought he glimpsed a hint of guilt in her brown eyes before she resumed her speed-walk to a red van. “After all, He cares for the sparrows and the lilies of the field, remember?”

Nice sentiment but her tone held no assurance.

It’s not your problem. That did nothing to lift the blanket of guilt weighing down Tanner’s shoulders. As he turned from watching Davy wrangle the cage into the van, his gaze slid past then returned to the logo printed on the side.

Sophie’s Kitchen—Home-Cooked Food Without the Hassle.

Home-cooked. Tanner studied the bag in his hand.

Doughnuts again? In his head he heard the other church ushers’ laughter. Is that all you ever eat, Tanner?

An idea sprang to life. He whirled around and saw Sophie, er, Mrs. Armstrong getting into her van. “Wait.”

She frowned at him but waited for his approach. “Is something wrong?”

“No, yes—” He pointed at the writing on her vehicle. “You make food? For people to eat?”

“That’s usually what they do with it.” Amusement laced her voice.

“Do you ever make desserts? Or treats for coffee time?” Tanner felt ridiculous. But the thought of serving the same old store-bought doughnuts he always provided, the thought of overhearing the same snarky comments made him wait, albeit impatiently, for her response.

“Cakes, tarts, that kind of thing? Sure.” She noticed Beth licking her lips and winked. Eyes dancing, Sophie looked young and carefree, not at all motherly.

What would it be like to be loved by a mom like her?

She frowned. “Look, I’m in a hurry—”

Tanner took a leap of faith. “I’ll take the rabbits and make a home for them on the ranch in exchange for something.”

“What?” Suspicion darkened her brown eyes.

“You making me some kind of dessert for tonight.” Sophie’s face said she wasn’t sold on the trade. Hoping to sweeten the deal, Tanner glanced at Beth. “You could bring your kids to see the rabbits in their new home if you want, to make sure they’re okay.”

Sophie’s eyebrows drew together. “What kind of dessert?”

“I don’t care.” He glanced down at the bag he still clutched. “As long as it’s not doughnuts.” He knew from the furrow on her forehead that she was considering his offer.

“You haven’t given me much notice,” she complained.

“Can’t help it. That’s the deal.” Tanner tipped back on the heels of his boots, Stetson in hand, and waited while she deliberated. “There will be twelve of us.”

“All men?” Sophie asked.

“Yes. Does that matter?” She nodded. “Why?” he asked curiously.

“Well, for one thing, women often appreciate different desserts from men, say something like cheesecake over pie,” Sophie explained.

“Pie?” Tanner’s stomach tap-danced in anticipation. “You could make pies for twelve people for tonight?”

“You’d only need three, maybe four.” She tapped her chin. “That’s not the problem.”

“What is?” Could she see he was almost salivating at the mere thought of cinnamon-scented apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream dripping down its sides?

“I have a catering job tonight, which means I couldn’t possibly bake and deliver your pies today.” When she shook her head, strands of shiny chocolate-toned hair flew through the air in an arc then fell back perfectly into place.

Tanner loved chocolate. Even more so now.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do it.”

“But you don’t even know where I live.” He wasn’t giving up so easily.

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t have time to bake and deliver,” she said. “If it could be tomorrow—?”

“It has to be today. Maybe I could pick them up. Where do you live?” He noted her hesitation. Why not? She had a couple of kids to think of. “Or perhaps your husband could meet me somewhere with them?”

“I’m a widow.” The note of defiance buried in her comment intrigued Tanner.

“Well, I could pick them up,” he offered. She wrinkled her nose. “Would it make a difference to you if my pastor vouched for me?” Even as Tanner said it, he wondered what his life had come to that he was willing to ask someone to vouch for him in order to get pie.

“I don’t know.” She hesitated.

“The meeting tonight is for our church ushers’ group. I’m head usher so it’s at my place and I’m supplying the food,” he explained before she could say no. “We get together every three months or so to organize the schedule of who’s covering which services when at Tanque Verde First Community Church.”

“Hey, that’s where we go,” Davy said from the backseat.

“I thought you seemed familiar.” The furrow of worry disappeared from Sophie’s forehead. “You’re Burt Green’s successor at Wranglers Ranch.”

She knew Burt? Well, of course she did. Tanner figured pretty well everyone at First Community Church must know about the burly rancher and the transient kids he’d often brought to church.

“I was sorry to hear of Burt’s passing.” Sophie glanced at the van’s clock, hesitated a moment then nodded. “Okay. It’s a deal. You can pick up your dessert at my place in exchange for taking the rabbits. But I’m not promising pie.”

“Oh.” His balloon of hope burst.

“I’ll make you something delicious, though, don’t worry.” Sophie tilted her head toward the rabbits. “I really appreciate this. It’s a great relief to find a home for those guys but—I have to go. My roast is due to come out of the oven.”

“Wait here.” Tanner drove his truck next to her van, loaded the rabbits and promised Beth she could come see them anytime. With Sophie’s address tucked into his shirt pocket, he handed her one of Burt’s cards with the phone number at Wranglers Ranch.

“So you can let me know when I should come and pick up the desserts,” he said. Sophie nodded, fluttered a hand, then quickly drove away.

Chuckling at the goofy sunflower stuck on the van’s rear bumper, Tanner started his engine. Thanks to Sophie, his usher friends were going to get a surprise when they arrived at Wranglers Ranch tonight.

That’s when it occurred to Tanner that he didn’t even know if she was a good cook. For some reason that worry immediately dissipated. Strangely he felt utterly confident that whatever Sophie Armstrong made would be delicious. Tonight was going to be a good meeting.

Tanner gave the doughnut bag on his seat a glare, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw it out. Living on the street in his teens, he’d felt that painful gnawing ache of hunger once too often to ever waste food. Spying a solution, he pulled a twenty-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it, the doughnuts and a business card to a disheveled man sitting in the parking lot by a light standard, exactly what Tanner would probably be doing if not for Burt Green.

“Hello. Buy yourself a meal to go with these doughnuts. If you need a job come see me at Wranglers Ranch,” he said.

Tanner drove to the exit and left the city limits, marveling at the simplicity of the interaction. Maybe Burt’s teaching wasn’t totally wasted on him.

But that optimism faltered the closer Tanner got to Wranglers Ranch. Whom was he kidding? He didn’t have the first clue how to carry out Burt’s ideas for Wranglers even though the ranch had been his home for the past ten of his almost twenty-six years. Tanner had been thrilled to work alongside Burt, to share in helping the street kids he mentored, kids who wouldn’t or couldn’t fit into the institutions of Tucson. Foster parent Burt, with Social Services’ permission, gladly nurtured each one, feeding, clothing and teaching life skills on his working ranch.

Ten years ago Tanner had been one of those kids. Other kids eventually found their families who’d missed them, wanted them back. Tanner was the only one who’d stayed. Nobody had ever come for him.

“Tanner, God’s given me a new goal,” Burt had announced last June. “I believe He wants us to make Wranglers Ranch into a kind of camp retreat for kids.” The surprise of his words hadn’t diminished even six months later.

Tanner might have been stunned by Burt’s new goal but he’d never doubted his mentor would do it. He’d only been curious about how. Unfortunately a fatal heart attack had kept Burt from turning his goal into reality. Tanner had mourned his mentor, assuming Wranglers Ranch, which had been his home for so long, would be sold. He’d been stunned to learn that Burt had entrusted Tanner with his ranch and the fortune that went with it. Burt’s will had just one condition: Tanner had two years to turn the ranch into a kids’ camp. If he failed, then the ranch would be sold.

Tanner desperately wanted to live up to Burt’s trust in him but he couldn’t figure out how to make the dream happen. He had no difficulty running the ranch. That was easy. But the scope of creating a refuge for kids like the ones Burt had described overwhelmed and intimidated him. In six months he hadn’t made even a tiny dent because he had no idea how to start. Shame over his failure left him feeling unworthy of Burt’s trust. Failure meant he could never repay the enormous debt he owed the man who’d coaxed him off the streets and into a life in which faith in God now filled his world.

Fan into flame the gift of God that is within you, Tanner. In his mind he could hear Burt’s voice repeating the verse from Timothy. Yet even now, after living at Wranglers so long, the meaning of that biblical quote still wasn’t clear to Tanner.

What is the gift that’s within me, Burt? Same old question. Still no answer.

Tanner knew he lacked Burt’s easy ability to reach into a street kid’s heart and help him gain a new perspective. He’d taken a foster parenting course and tons of psychology classes but they hadn’t helped. He had the head knowledge. The problem was, Tanner Johns was a loner, plagued by his past mistakes.

The old insecurities returned as they always did when Tanner thought about his past. Once more he became a painfully shy seven-year-old foster kid, utterly devastated when he’d overheard a social worker say Tanner’s mom abandoned him before he was a day old. In the years that followed he’d learned exactly what it meant when nobody wanted you, not even your own mother. From then on, a family was all Tanner had ever wanted. He’d finally found that family in Burt. But now he was gone and Tanner was alone.

Ignoring the rush of loss that bulged inside, Tanner pushed away the past and refocused. Even if he could somehow coax kids to come to the ranch, Burt’s vision had been to turn Wranglers into a place where kids would find God was the answer to their problems. But how? Tanner had repeatedly asked God to send someone to show him. Then, as Burt had taught, he waited for God’s leading. So far Tanner’s prayers remained unanswered.

Show me how to do this, God, his heart cried once more.

With a sigh, Tanner turned his truck into the winding road that led to Wranglers, his spirit lifting at the beauty of the place. Burt had claimed the ranch showed its best in March and April when the desert bloomed with life. But January was Tanner’s favorite month because it was a time of new birth, beginnings and hope.

The swaying leaves of the massive eucalyptus trees brought powerful memories of Burt and his unending life lessons. The only thing that wily man hadn’t been able to teach Tanner was how to let go of his shameful past. Of course Burt hadn’t known that by accepting his invitation to come to Wranglers, Tanner had abandoned the girlfriend who was going to have his child. In fact, it was only much later that Tanner himself understood that though he’d gained Burt and a home, he’d done exactly as his mother had—he’d thrown away his chance to be a father, to have the family he’d always craved. How could he possibly be forgiven for that?

With a sigh of regret Tanner pushed away the past and decided he’d focus on recruiting kids tomorrow. Right now he needed to relocate these rabbits so if a cute little girl, her grumpy brother and her pretty mom came to visit, he could allay their fears about their pets.

Moses Featherbed sat on the porch swing at Wranglers, watching as Tanner hefted the cage out of the truck. The elderly Native American had called Wranglers his home long before Tanner’s arrival and thanks to a stipend from Burt’s estate, Moses remained, refusing to retire, let alone stop rehabilitating the abused horses Burt had always welcomed on his spread.

“You raising rabbits now?” Moses, never short for a comment, lifted one bushy eyebrow.

“Not intentionally.” Conscious of the old man following, Tanner carried the cage to a fenced area he’d built last November to house a pair of injured Canadian geese that had since flown away. “I made an exchange.” He set the cage inside and opened the wire door.

“Rabbits for...?” Moses eased his arthritic hip onto a nearby bale and watched the animals hop out of the cage to explore their new home.

“Rabbits for pie or something like it for my ushers’ meeting tonight.” Tanner couldn’t hide his smile of anticipation.

“Good deal, especially if a pretty lady comes with it,” Moses approved with a chuckle.

“She’s pretty all right,” Tanner assured him. Then he frowned. “But that has nothing to do with the pie. I mean—uh—”

“Right.” Moses’s amused chuckle echoed through the feathery mesquites, over the spiky barrel cactus and tumbled down to the bubbling brook three hundred feet away. “The Lord’s ways surely are mysterious.”

Mysterious or not, the Lord wasn’t in the matchmaking business for Tanner Johns, because pretty as Sophie Armstrong was, God knew perfectly well that Tanner didn’t get involved with women. Never again.

* * *

“I sure hope your cowboy likes these kinds of pie.” Sophie studied the fluted golden crusts with a critical eye.

“He will.” Beth smiled dreamily, her mind obviously elsewhere. “Do you think the rabbits are happy, Mama?”

“On a ranch? I think they’re ecstatic. That means very happy,” she clarified when Beth frowned.

“Mr. Cowboy will be really nice to them.” Beth went back to coloring her oversize rabbit-picture-thank-you card for the rancher.

“How do you know that?” Curious to hear the response, Sophie listened before completing a last-minute mental check on her catered meal.

“’Cause he was really nice to me. Only he’s got sad eyes. I think he hurts inside. I don’t think he has anybody to love him.” Beth added a few blue lines to her drawing before she murmured, “I love him.”

I could almost love him for taking those rabbits. Immediately Sophie quashed the errant thought. Never falling into that trap again, she reminded herself. Independence is too precious.

“I love Mr. Cowboy lots.” Beth sounded the way Sophie had felt when she was fifteen and Marty Armstrong, the coolest guy in school, had first shown an interest in her.

“That’s nice to say, sweetie, but Mr. Johns is a stranger. You can’t love a stranger.” It was the wrong thing to say to her very literal daughter, and Sophie knew it the moment Beth’s blue eyes darkened to storm clouds.

“The Bible says to love everybody.” She glared at her mother, her voice accusing.

“That’s right. Thank you for reminding me, Bethy.” Sophie pressed a placating kiss against her daughter’s head, then checked the kitchen clock. Where was the man? She had to leave for her gig in less than five minutes. “Maybe that’s him,” she said when the phone rang a second later.

It wasn’t Tanner Johns calling.

“I can’t babysit, Sophie. I’m so sorry.” Edna Parker’s breathy voice sounded horribly weak.

“What’s wrong, Edna? Where are you?” Sophie asked worriedly.

“At the hospital. My son brought me. I fell and broke my hip while you were out trying to get rid of the rabbits. They’re going to do surgery soon.” That weepy tone told Sophie her elderly neighbor was very frightened.

“You stop fussing now,” she said gently. “The doctors will make everything better.”

“But I can’t babysit for you tonight,” the woman wailed in a feeble voice.

“I’ll get someone else to watch the kids. Don’t worry about us. And I’ll run over later and look after your cats. I have your key, remember? Everything’s going to be fine.” She heard a sigh of relief. “The kids and I will come see you as soon as we can. Don’t worry, Edna.”

“Thank you, dear.” Somewhat calmer, Edna chatted for a moment before saying, “I’m so glad God sent you into my life.” Then she hung up.

“I wish God would send me someone into my life. Where am I going to get a sitter at this time on a Friday night?” Sophie couldn’t mess up this catering job. She needed it to pay next month’s rent. “I need help, God.”

A loud rap on the front door startled her out of her silent prayer.

“It’s Mr. Cowboy,” Beth yelled, having raced to answer the door. Then to Sophie’s utter dismay, her daughter said to Tanner, “Houston, we have a problem.”

Tanner’s startled gaze moved from Beth to Sophie. One corner of his mouth kicked up. Dark green eyes, which earlier had been hidden behind sunglasses, were startling in his tanned face. Sophie gulped. Tall, lanky and lean, with wide denim-clad shoulders that looked perfect for leaning on, Tanner Johns was every woman’s fantasy cowboy.

Not her fantasy cowboy, of course, but—

“What’s the problem, er, Houston?” His gaze rested on Sophie while his fingers gripped the black Stetson he’d removed when he stepped over their threshold.

Sophie couldn’t explain because there was something wrong with her breathing. As in, she couldn’t. Then Davy came racing down the stairs, tripped on the perpetually loose runner at the bottom tread and tumbled headlong into the cowboy’s arms. Tanner grunted as he caught her son and held on just long enough to make sure Davy could stand on his own.

“Something I said?” he joked, winking at her.

The man winked at her! The control Sophie had almost recovered vanished. She figured she probably looked like a beached fish, gulping for air. Stupidly, she wished she’d had time to fix her hair.

Where’s your independence now?

“Our babysitter can’t come,” Beth explained. “Mama’s gonna lose this job and we need it to pay our bills.” The words were an exact repeat of her mother’s earlier meant-to-be-silent mutterings.

Sophie almost groaned out loud. Tanner so needed to hear that sad story, he of the billion-acre ranch with money coming out of his ears, thanks, according to church gossip, to Burt’s generosity. Now he’d feel sorry for her. Sophie thrust back her shoulders, independence reasserting itself.

“That’s enough, Beth. You and Davy get your sweaters. You’ll have to come with me and sit quietly in a corner of the kitchen while I work. Go now. Monica and Tiffany will meet us there.” She said hello to Tanner and beckoned him to follow her to the kitchen.

“Monica and Tiffany?” he said in a dazed voice. “You have more children?”

“They’re my catering helpers.” Sophie pointed. “Your pies.”

When there was no response, she paused in lifting the pan holding her perfectly sliced roast from the oven to look at him. Her heart gave a bump of pure sympathy. The poor man was gazing at her pies as if he hadn’t eaten for months. So maybe his massive inheritance couldn’t buy everything, but she had no time to think about that now.

“Tanner?” She said it more crisply than she intended. He lost the hungry look and snapped to attention. “Sorry to rush you. You’ll have to wrap them yourself. The foil’s over there. I’ve got to load up and get going.”

“I’ll help you.” He took the heavy metal server from her and insisted she lead him to the garage where the van was open, waiting. He stored the container where she indicated, then carried out the other dishes, refusing to let her lift even one though she assured him she’d done it many times before.

“Thank you for your help,” Sophie said when everything was placed so it couldn’t move during the trip. “Now I must leave. Beth. Davy,” she called.

“Aw, Mom. Do I have to go?” Her son glared at her. “I’m not a baby, you know.”

“I know you’re growing up fast, but you’re still too young to stay alone. Now please come on. I don’t have time to waste arguing.” Too aware of Tanner standing next to her, Sophie reached out to grab her son’s arm to draw him forward.

“I could take your children back to the ranch with me while you work.”

The cowboy’s offer stunned her. It must have stunned him, too, because Tanner gawked at her, green eyes stretched wide as if he was in shock.

“It’s very kind of you to offer but you’re a stranger,” she said as nicely as she could. If only she could accept. It would save— What was she thinking? It was impossible.

“There will be eleven other men at the meeting. One will be Pastor Jeff and at least two others are church board members. You can call any of them for references if you want.” Tanner waited. Could he know how desperately she wanted to accept his offer? “Please let me help,” he murmured when she’d wasted several more moments. “These pies—you’ve no idea what they mean to me. I’d like to return the favor, if you’ll let me.”

“You already did by taking the rabbits,” Sophie reminded. He only smiled and waited, watching her with that intense contemplation that had turned more hazel now that flecks of copper glinted in the depths.

“Can we go to his ranch, Mom?” Davy’s hopeful voice broke the silence.

“What about your meeting?” Sophie knew Davy wouldn’t settle while she was working, and that would disturb Beth, which would distract her. She desperately needed tonight’s job to go right. Dare she risk leaving her kids with this man?

“I draw up the usher schedules ahead of time. It’s just a matter of everyone confirming dates and then sampling your pie.” Tanner’s grin made her stomach swoop so she felt off balance. “It’s an excuse for guy time. Your kids won’t be an issue, Sophie. Moses will make sure of that.”

As Tanner explained to the kids about a Native American man who lived at the ranch, Sophie could no longer resist his offer. She lifted her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the pastor’s number. Once she’d laid out the situation, Pastor Jeff gave his wholehearted reassurance.

“Tanner’s a great guy, Sophie. He’s going to turn Burt’s ranch into a kind of outreach camp. I’m hoping our church can partner with him.” His effusive praise for the rancher went on and on. When she didn’t immediately respond, Jeff said, “If you’re still worried, know that I’ll be there to make sure nothing happens to Beth and Davy.”

“I appreciate that, Jeff.” She ended the call, closed the phone, then looked at Tanner. “Thank you, I’d like to accept your offer.”

He nodded and turned away, probably to hide the embarrassed flush rising up his neck. Sophie regretted causing that but she had to be sure the kids would be safe. She drew Davy aside and stared him straight in the eye.

“Same rules as at home, buddy. You don’t go anywhere on the ranch if Tanner isn’t there. You obey him and Moses without question. If I hear one word—”

“You won’t.” Davy eagerly grabbed his jacket and held out his sister’s. “Come on, Bethy. We’re going to a real ranch.”

Davy’s use of the old pet name for his sister made Sophie smile. His good mood probably wouldn’t last, but while it did she’d enjoy it.

It took only minutes to store the now-covered pies in the side boxes of Tanner’s truck, minutes more to kiss her babies and promise to pick them up as soon as she was finished working. Sophie searched her brain, worried she’d missed something, forgotten something important.

“Go do your job, Sophie.” Tanner’s quiet reassurance brought back the reality of time. “I promise I’ll keep Beth and Davy safe for you.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. A moment later, with her kids safely belted into their seats, Tanner drove away and Sophie left home with her meal, clinging to her wobbly faith that this time God would be there for her.

She’d almost forgotten the Sunday she’d been on cleanup duty after a potluck at the church and overheard Burt speaking to someone about Tanner.

“He had a rough childhood and his teen years weren’t much better. His past dogs him. But there isn’t a man I trust more than Tanner Johns. His integrity, honesty and uprightness are part of what makes him tick.”

The old man must have truly trusted Tanner to bequeath his beloved Wranglers Ranch to him. Burt’s latest dream for the place was something the whole congregation had learned about from a presentation he’d made a few weeks before his death. The reason Sophie remembered that specific conversation, though, was because of Burt’s last words.

“As I keep telling Tanner, we must fan into flame the gift of God inside us.”

So, Sophie wondered, what was Tanner’s gift? Knight in shining armor?

The mental image of him riding a white steed, or in this case his white truck, to her rescue made Sophie blush. She got back to work forcing away that image and the memory of the way her senses had reacted to the big cowboy, especially to that slow, easy smile of his. She’d been this route before with Marty, and life had been a painful teacher.

Her husband Marty’s greatest attraction had been his charm. He’d been as big a kid as his own children, fun-loving, living for the moment, never giving a thought to tomorrow, often to the detriment of his family. In the two years since his death Sophie had finally put her life back together and regained control. Sure, every day was a struggle to make ends meet, but it was her struggle, her bank account to hide away for real emergencies. She was the person she depended on. No way was she giving up her independence or security now.

Sophie wasn’t ever going to be dependent on any man again, even if he was a big strong cowboy with a smile that made a zillion butterflies skip in her stomach.

Chapter Two

“I’m afraid I wore out your kids.” Tanner liked the way Sophie’s upswept hair left her graceful neck free for his inspection.

“I hope they behaved.” Three and a half hours later the cook’s black fitted blouse and slacks still looked pristine. In fact, Sophie appeared relaxed and calm, exactly the type of competent professional you’d want catering your occasion. “Davy...”

“Loves horses. I could barely keep him from saddling up. His enthusiasm is great.” Tanner chuckled at her surprise. “No kidding. He’s a natural cowboy. They’re sleeping in the other room. Want to check?” She nodded so he led the way.

Sophie’s lovely face softened when she saw Beth curled in Burt’s chair in front of the fire next to Davy, who’d thrown his arm across her shoulder in a protective manner. Tanner pointed to the kitchen and after a long moment she nodded and followed.

“Thank you,” Sophie said quietly.

“They’re good kids. After my meeting ended I took them out to feed the rabbits. They approve of the bunnies’ new home.” He smiled at her eye roll. “How did the job go?”

“Perfectly. I have just enough beef left over to make us a stew tomorrow and not a spoonful remains of my chocolate cherry trifle.” Despite the lines of weariness around her eyes, Sophie looked happy. “And I have two new jobs.”

“Great.” He motioned to the stove. “Do you have time for tea? I just made a pot.”

“I’d love a cup. Thank you.” Sophie sank into the chair he offered. “Somehow I didn’t see you as a tea drinker.”

“Burt only drank coffee in the morning. He refused to make it after that. Since my coffee is worse than mud it was easier to drink whatever he made. It’s pretty hard even for me to mess up tea bags.” He poured tea into two mugs before realizing he should have used the good cups. “I have some pie left. Would you like a slice?”

“No, thanks. I like making pie but eating it is bad for my waist.” Sophie frowned at him. “Which kinds were left?”

“One apple and one strawberry rhubarb.” He sat down across from her thinking that there was nothing wrong with her waist. “Don’t make that face. It wasn’t because they didn’t like them,” he reassured her. “They did. I knew most of them would take seconds or thirds so I hid two pieces before they got here.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because I wanted some for tomorrow.” He shrugged when she grinned. “Self-preservation. You make very good pies.”

“Thank you but I’m sure your housekeeper keeps you well fed.” Sophie’s gaze moved around the kitchen.

“I don’t have a housekeeper. The hands are all married and eat at home. Moses prefers his own cooking. It’s just me.” She looked dubious. “It’s true. When he was alive, Burt did the cooking or we ate out.”

“What a shame with a kitchen like this. It’s a cook’s dream.” A soft yearning look filled Sophie’s face as she studied the stainless steel appliances. “You have every piece of equipment any cook could dream of.”

“Probably.” He shrugged carelessly. “Burt had this room redone several months ago and then asked the Public Health Department to certify it as commercial. He hoped to use it for meal preparation when he got the camps going.”

“When will that be?” Sophie leaned back in her chair, mug in hand, and let the steam bathe her face.

“Good question.” Tanner forced himself to stop staring at her and admitted, “I’m struggling to get things started because I don’t have Burt’s gift for striking up conversations with kids. I’m not even sure how to start a camp or whatever for them. Actually I’m scared witless at the thought of hosting a group of troubled kids for a whole week, but that was Burt’s goal.”

“Why must you start with a full-week camp?” Sophie tilted her head, her face thoughtful. “Couldn’t you try a one-day riding camp first, maybe get some practice at running that before you branch out?”

Tanner blinked. He’d been overwhelmed by the scope of Burt’s impossible dream, but this smaller step seemed feasible.

“How do you see that working?” He waited with a wiggle of excitement flaring inside, for Sophie to expand on her idea.

“Hmm. Maybe the kids would arrive Saturday morning between seven and eight? You could have a buffet breakfast while they assemble. Kids are always hungry.” She smiled, her full lips tipping up in a way that set his heart thudding. “After that they could mingle among the horses.”

“That way we could assess their skills without being too obvious.” Logical and organized. Tanner liked that about Sophie. “Also they could get to know their ride. But we’d need some time to prepare the horses,” he mused with a frown.

“So maybe a little explanation about the horses while you prepare. After that you tell them the rules for the trail ride and what to expect.” Sophie glanced at him, eyebrows lifted in a question. “Then you mount up.”

“And just ride?” He thought that sounded boring.

“You could break up the ride.” Sophie didn’t laugh or mock him for his lack of ideas. Instead she chewed on her bottom lip, a frown marring her smooth forehead as she thought it through. “Maybe you’d stop along the way to explain about the desert, the animals that live here, talk about Wranglers Ranch and how it came to be—stuff like that.”

“That’d be Moses’s job,” Tanner said, thinking how easily her plan came together. “He knows everything there is to know about this spread and the desert adjoining us.”

“Perfect.” Her smile made him feel as if he could handle this.

Suddenly Tanner didn’t find Burt’s dream quite so daunting.

“At the end of the ride you might have a campfire picnic or maybe a chuck wagon dinner.” Sophie studied him, assessing his response. “Doable?”

“Sure. We could follow that with stories, maybe bring up God’s creation,” Tanner added thoughtfully. “It’s a good plan. A small group would give us a chance to do a trial run, iron out problems.”

“It wouldn’t be hard to turn that into a two-day camp, either, if you had somewhere on the ranch for people to camp out overnight. Breakfast in the desert, ride back to the ranch for lunch, then head home. It sounds—” Sophie’s smile faltered. “You’re frowning.”

“Because I don’t see how this plan attracts street kids.” Tanner avoided her gaze. “They were Burt’s primary focus.”

“Maybe to get there you have to start with other kids,” Sophie said in a thoughtful voice. “Maybe if you got a buzz going about this place, street kids would come out of curiosity. There are lots of needy kids who could benefit from coming here. Building a rapport with a horse and the people who care for them could be a bridge to reaching many kids.”

“You think?” Tanner hadn’t considered that.

“Sure. I’d enroll Davy in a program like that if it was available and I could afford it.” Sophie set her cup down and placed her hands in her lap. Her voice dropped. “Actually I’m willing to try almost anything to engage him. He’s not yet nine but he’s already gotten in with a bad bunch of kids. His behavior and attitude are suffering at school, too. I’m his mother but I feel like I’m failing him.”

“I sincerely doubt that.” Tanner didn’t think a caring mom like her would ever disappoint her child or abandon him as his own mother had.

“I homeschool Beth and that takes a lot of prep time, but I have to do it. She just wasn’t progressing at her school.” Sophie sighed. “By necessity she gets a lot of attention from me. So does my job and when I’ve finished that—”

“You’re wiped out,” he completed, seeing the weariness in her posture.

“Yes.” Sophie’s head drooped. “And Davy suffers. His ‘friends’ have already persuaded him to steal a candy bar. I reprimanded and punished him but I’m worried about what comes next. I don’t know what to do. I’m doing the best I can but...”

Tanner had to say something to erase the misery on her face.

“Davy was great tonight. He even offered to help Moses muck out stalls.” He grinned as astonishment filled Sophie’s face. “Don’t worry, I didn’t let him. I said we’d need your permission first, but Davy is definitely intrigued by the animals. He went from tough bravado to quiet gentleness in about three seconds flat when he met an abused horse someone dropped off today.”

“My son—gentle?” Sophie’s big brown eyes stretched wide. “Davy?”

“Davy,” Tanner affirmed. He liked her honesty about her son. “Maybe that’s an interest you can build on, which is also why this idea of yours could be worthwhile.” His brain whirled with ideas. “If Wranglers helped only Davy it would at least be a step toward making Burt’s dream come true.”

“Doing that means a lot to you?” she said softly.

“It’s the only reason I accepted his legacy of Wranglers. I have less than two years left to turn Burt’s dream into reality. Maybe a day camp is the way to finally start down that path.” Tanner grabbed a pen and pad of paper from near the phone. “For me the biggest issue will be the food. Hey!” He grinned at her. “Could we hire you to cook?”

“I’d need to check dates but I’m sure we could work out something.” Sophie didn’t look at him as she asked, “Maybe I could cook in lieu of Davy’s fee to attend?”

“We could talk about that.” Tanner saw hurt flicker through her eyes when he didn’t immediately accept and mentally kicked himself for causing it. But his strong reactions to this woman scared him. He didn’t want to encourage anything that could be construed as personal with her. Or anyone else. “I need to keep everything businesslike,” he excused quickly.

“Of course. So do I.” The hurt look disappeared as she nodded. “Profit and loss to make it official. Then when you’ve done several camps you’ll have built a résumé that you can use for schools or public agencies so they’ll see you’re not just playing at this. Good idea.”

It hadn’t been his idea at all. It was hers. And a good one at that.

“Thank you for understanding, Sophie. But I would like to have Davy attend the first camp.” He saw her surprise. Don’t say anything about what he did. Don’t get involved, his brain ordered. Too late.

“Why?” Sophie’s gaze narrowed. “Because you feel sorry for him?”

“Sorry?” How could he phrase this without offending her? “No. I see Davy as sort of a guinea pig. Maybe I should say ‘test subject.’” Sophie’s dark eyes narrowed so Tanner hurried to clarify. “If Davy was part of the first ride, I could question him afterward and see from his perspective where we missed a need or should do something differently. I wouldn’t want to ask a guest those kinds of questions. But if Davy was part of my team—” He saw skepticism in her intelligent gaze. “You don’t want that.”

“I think it’s wonderful of you and he’d love it, I’m sure.” The frown furrowing her forehead returned. What a concerned mother she was. “But what if he does something he shouldn’t? What if he messes up?”

He already has.

“Then we’ll learn from that, too.” Tanner smiled at her. Somehow it seemed important to reach this boy. At least he could do that, couldn’t he? “Davy’s a little kid. What could happen?”

“You’d be surprised.” A wry tilt of her lips told Tanner Sophie’s equanimity was returning. “Okay, but I hope you don’t regret this idea. You do realize Davy doesn’t know how to ride.”

“So we’ll teach him.” Tanner shrugged to show her it was no big deal. Suddenly he wanted to know more about Sophie. “Your husband must have been glad of your quick thinking.” Immediately shutters dropped over her eyes, telling him it was the wrong thing to say. “That’s private. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” She huffed out a sigh and then sipped her tea. Just when he thought she would get up and leave, Sophie lifted her head and looked him in the eye. “I guess Marty did depend on me. He certainly didn’t have a head for business.”

“Is Davy like him?” Tanner asked, curious about the man this lovely woman had married.

“I hope not.” Sophie smiled at his startled look. “I loved my husband but he wasn’t what you’d call responsible. Marty was like a big kid, carefree, enjoying himself without worrying about the future.”

“Tough on you,” he murmured.

“Yes. I was the heavy, the one who said no to his wilder ideas, and Davy was old enough to see that.” Sophie’s pretty face tightened at the memory. “I’m trying to teach my son that responsibility is part of growing up, that nobody gets out of it.”

“Is that what Marty tried to do, get out of his responsibility?” It was none of Tanner’s business but he had to ask. His stomach knotted when Sophie slowly nodded. What would she think if she knew of his past irresponsibility? “How did Marty die?”

Normally Tanner would have steered far away from such personal questions. But here, in the intimacy of his kitchen, he had a strange feeling that Sophie wanted to share her past and that she needed to talk to someone. He’d guess she didn’t do that often but maybe with her kids asleep and her job finished, she could finally relax. She’d helped him. He wanted to help her.

“I’m a good listener, Sophie,” he assured her quietly. Silence yawned.

“Marty died riding bulls at the rodeo.”

It wasn’t so much those seven words as the way Sophie said them that told Tanner how much her husband’s decision to take that risk had affected her. He made no comment, simply waited for her to continue.

“Beth was three months old and our medical bills were huge. Marty was looking for an easy way to pay them off.” She bowed her head as if ashamed about her debt. “The rodeo purse was a large amount. Marty being Marty never considered it was so large because no one could ride the animal, or that he might get hurt trying. After three seconds, the bull threw him, then trampled him. Marty was unconscious for four days before he died.”

Leaving Sophie with even larger medical bills and no one to help her. Irritation toward the careless husband built with a rush of—what? Not pity. Sympathy? Compassion—that was it. And a wish that he’d been there to help her. But why was that? Tanner was a loner. He barely knew Sophie Armstrong. So why should he feel she needed his help?

“That must have been very hard for you, alone with a newborn and another child.” A thousand questions bubbled inside him. “What did you do?”

“I cried for a while but that was useless so I grabbed control of my life.” Sophie’s voice hardened. “I felt like I’d lost it in high school when I learned I was pregnant with Davy. My parents were furious their daughter had strayed from the Christian path.” Her voice showed the strain of that time. “They insisted Marty and I get married. I obeyed them even though I had a lot of doubts about marriage and motherhood at sixteen.”

“Sixteen? Wow. That is young.” Tanner gulped down the memory of his own life at sixteen and the mistake he was still running from, the thing that made him utterly unworthy of Burt’s trust or anyone’s love. “When Marty died, did you contact your parents?”

“His and mine both, to tell them of his death. I could have used my parents’ support then but I couldn’t take their recriminations.” Sophie’s usually laughing lips tightened. “My parents are big into rules and judgment. I didn’t need the guilt of hearing about how my sins were coming back to roost.”

“His parents couldn’t help, either?” Sophie shook her head. “So you were alone. How did you survive?” Tanner was aghast that this young woman had faced life as the sole support for two very young children.

“Marty had an insurance policy. I got it the day he bought a house that was beyond our means. The policy paid off our mortgage but we couldn’t afford to live there so I sold the place and everything else we didn’t absolutely need.” Sophie’s chin thrust out as if she expected some argument from Tanner, as if she’d had to justify her decision before.

Tanner remained silent, amazed at her pluck and grit.

“That money, a cleaning job with a neighbor babysitting for free and the food bank gave us a cushion while I figured out my next step.” She shrugged. “People liked my cooking so I started selling it at farmers’ markets to make a few dollars extra. That grew into catering and eventually allowed me to stay home with Beth. We manage now.”

“So you have your own business.” Tanner felt enormously proud of Sophie and he barely knew her!

“It hasn’t been easy, but yes, I love being my own boss.” She grimaced. “Along the way I’ve struggled to figure out God’s plan but—hey, that’s enough of my life story.”

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” Tanner said and meant it. “You’re a remarkable woman, Sophie Armstrong.”

“I’m just a mom trying to do the very best for my kids. They come first.” She said it with a fierce purpose, her eyes dark with determination. “Davy and Beth are why I keep pushing through the problems. My kids are my life. I will never knowingly endanger them. I will also never again allow my life to be controlled by someone else.”

Sophie’s darkened eyes and stern voice brooked no argument. Her harsh life had obviously strengthened her but Tanner hated to see the tiny fan lines of stress at the sides of her eyes.

“So now you believe Davy needs to learn responsibility?” He waited for her nod, feeling slightly guilty for thinking he had something he could teach this boy, he who had abdicated fatherhood of his own child. “How will you teach him that?” he asked curiously.

“By finding something he loves and then indulging it as much as I can afford. Maybe he’ll begin to understand that some things are worth working for.” Her firm clear voice and focused gaze told him Sophie needed no greater motivation for her life than her kids.

How Tanner admired that motherly devotion. “And Beth? What does she need?”

“Beth—” Sophie paused, her face momentarily reflective. “Beth will be fine.” Her dark eyes softened and the hard thrust of her jaw relaxed. “She takes whatever life hands her and turns it into a rainbow. She’s adaptable. Davy’s different.” Her lips pinched tight. “He needs something...more.”

“God certainly knew what He was doing when He made you their mother.” Tanner was positive he’d never known anyone more determined than Sophie Armstrong. He noted her quick glance at the wall clock, saw it swerve to rest on Beth’s card sitting on a shelf. Her smile returned. “It’s a pretty card,” he said. “More tea?”

“No, thanks. I must get home.” She rose, set her cup in the sink then faced him. “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out tonight, Tanner.”

“I think four pies more than covered that bill. This ranch will have a new reputation at church thanks to you. The best eats ever at Wranglers Ranch.” He grinned and when she smiled back he decided Sophie’s pies weren’t the best thing about her. Her smile was.

Silence yawned between them. Tanner’s gaze locked with hers and he couldn’t look away from those intense brown eyes until Sophie’s cough snapped the electrical current running between them.

“I need to go,” she said again. “But if I can somehow help with your project here at Wranglers, I hope you’ll tell me.”

“Thanks.” How generous to make such a gracious offer with all she had on her plate. “I will.”

She nodded once before she stepped around him and walked into the living room. “Come on, guys. Time to get home.”

Tanner watched in silent admiration as Sophie gently shook Davy’s shoulder, then Beth’s, wakening them in a tender loving tone. The children roused easily, yawning as they straightened.

“We had the bestest time, Mama. Thank you, Cowboy Tanner.” Beth insisted on calling him Cowboy. Tanner liked it. It made him feel as if he was somehow more noteworthy than the men she usually encountered. He basked in her sweet smile.

“You’re welcome, Beth. I hope you come again.” Tanner surprised himself with the invitation. Sophie’s presence here made his pulse speed up, and that made him nervous. He was all about not getting involved, yet there was something about Sophie and her little family that drew him, made him want to interact with them again.

“Hey, Mom.” Davy was fully awake now and full of information. “Bethy was telling Tanner how you homeschool her and how you’re the leader.”

“I’m just chairman of the homeschool association,” Sophie corrected gently.

“Whatever. Anyway I remembered you said you have to arrange an outing for the homeschool kids.” He grinned at his sister. “Beth and me think coming to Wranglers Ranch would be fun. I could come, too. To help,” he added, his chest puffed out.

Tanner hadn’t encouraged Davy when he’d posed the thought earlier, and he was glad he hadn’t because a doubtful look washed over Sophie’s face as she glanced from her son to him.

“You’d be a big help, son. But I don’t know about visiting a ranch. Not all the homeschool kids can ride horses. What would they do out here?” she asked.

“There’s tons of stuff to do.” Davy grinned at Tanner. “This old guy, Moses, knows all about the original settlers and the Indians that lived here first. He tells lots of cool stories.”

“And the horses need people to feed and brush them,” Beth added. “I got to pet a white one. It’s called Jeremiah, right?” she asked Tanner, who nodded.

“I’d rather ride Gideon. He looks like he’s fast.” Davy’s eyes glowed with excitement.

“Moses, Jeremiah and Gideon. Sounds like you’ve got an Old Testament theme going at Wranglers Ranch.” Sophie smiled at Tanner.

My, how he liked that smile.

“Burt’s idea. Every time he read a passage about a Bible character’s struggles, he’d figure out how he could apply that lesson to his own life. Then he’d use the hero’s name on a rescued horse to remind himself.” Tanner nodded. “We have Melchizedek, Ehud, Balaam—want me to continue?”

“I get the idea. Old Testament heroes.” She rolled her eyes.

“And heroines. Burt was an equal opportunity namer.” Tanner couldn’t smother his laughter when Sophie’s face twisted in a droll look. “No kidding. We have Rhoda, Abishag and Bathsheba to name a few.”

“Abishag?” Sophie’s chortles lifted the gloom that had settled over the house since Burt’s passing. Tanner felt as if the joyful sound swept the house free of grief and loss and replaced it with—hope?

“Maybe you haven’t read about her. Abishag was a beautiful young woman who was chosen to marry David in his old age and cherish him.” Tanner shrugged. “I’m not sure what Burt’s lesson about her was but there must have been one because he chose that name for a mare.”

“Abishag is a really pretty horse. She has black and white spots.” Davy turned to Tanner. “What kind did you say?”

“A pinto,” he said, then fell silent as the children regaled their mother with all the things they’d done with Tanner.

“Okay, odd names aside,” Sophie said when they finally ran out of stories, “since my kids are so impressed with Wranglers Ranch, maybe you and I should have a discussion about arranging for the homeschool kids to come here. This sounds like a great place to visit.”

Davy cheered so loudly the dog started to yowl.

“Sheba, quiet.” Tanner tried to shush the excited animal.

“Sheba.” Sophie slid her arm around each child’s shoulder. “As in queen of—?” She arched one dark eyebrow in a question.

“Everything.” Tanner laughed at her groan. It was such fun teasing with Sophie. He walked with her as she shepherded her family out to her van, waited till they were all buckled in, then leaned toward the driver’s open window. “I really appreciate those pies, Sophie. And I hope you’ll come again soon. Your homeschool kids are also welcome if they want to visit.”

“I’ll see what the rest of the board thinks. They might want to visit your ranch first.” She frowned. “Would that be a problem?”

“Not at all, but you should give me a heads-up before you come,” he said quickly. He liked to be prepared, get his barriers up, Burt would have said. “We’re working on replacement fencing up in the hills and I’m not always here.”

“Okay.” Was Sophie’s hesitation because she was as loath to leave as he was to have her go? “See you.”

I hope so.

He nodded and waved. When the van’s red taillights disappeared around the bend, Tanner let his hand fall to his side, marveling at how alone it suddenly felt in this place that had been his home for so long, the place he enjoyed particularly because of the solitude. Tonight he’d welcome company to stop him from thinking about Sophie, but Moses had disappeared to his little cottage after the kids had fallen asleep.

Tanner walked back inside Burt’s home, then jerked to a stop, suddenly seeing the rooms through new eyes. The updated modernity of the stainless steel kitchen and pristinely tiled bathroom didn’t match the worn and shabby masculinity of the living room. Whenever possible Tanner avoided sitting in Burt’s leather chair, the place where the kids had slept, because it had a spring that hit him in exactly the wrong spot. And it was becoming increasingly difficult to get comfortable on the stained and sagging plaid sofa, which was far too tattered to be restored by simple cleaning.

Tanner kept the place as tidy as he could, but tonight, through Sophie’s eyes, he wondered who in their right mind had chosen the dreary red-and-black wallpaper, which in no way went with the horrible mud-brown carpet that was alternately matted in places and threadbare in others. There was no warm, cozy feeling here, not like at Sophie’s home.

He thought about her suggestions for a day camp, which in his opinion had real merit. But if he pursued it there could be occasions when groups would have to come inside, say if it was raining or too windy outside. Burt had worked hard on the exterior appearance of Wranglers Ranch because he wanted those who visited to see his ranch in top-notch condition. Shouldn’t that include the inside of the house, as well?

This room definitely didn’t say “welcome.” Tanner didn’t have a clue how to achieve a hospitable feel, but he figured there were people in Tucson who did. He’d told Sophie he’d be working on fences, but his ranch hands were more than capable of doing that. He went along only in hopes the open spaces would help him figure out how to make Burt’s dream live. Instead Sophie had showed him how to start.

Tanner went back to the kitchen, grabbed his Bible from a shelf and sat down, prepared to ask God about his next move. Immediately his nose caught Sophie’s citrusy fragrance and his brain framed her laughing face.

Would she come back to Wranglers? Soon?

And why did it matter so much?

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