The Rancher's Texas Match. Brenda Minton
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don’t we do that?” She looked at the group of boys surrounding her. Big eyes, sweet smiles. She glanced back in time to see that Tanner had hold of the poor horse being dragged about the arena.
“Come on, guys, let’s see if we can have fun.” She clasped her hands together as she stared at the expectant faces.
Colby didn’t look convinced.
“Colby, what story do you like the best?” she asked.
That got his attention. That was their common ground. Stories.
“The one with the dragon slayer,” he said as he reached for her hand, his other hand holding the reins of his pony.
“The dragon slayer it is.” She only hoped she could remember the story she’d made up on a Saturday night when neither of them could sleep. She smiled down at her nephew. If she couldn’t remember, he would help.
In the background she heard a young voice raised in anger. Or hurt. A calm, reassuring voice spoke; the words were lost, but the tone carried the meaning.
Macy felt that reassurance, even though it wasn’t meant for her.
* * *
“The dragon slayer knelt in prayer, knowing his kingdom would stand forever and that it was a greater power than his own that kept them safe from the evil...”
Tanner stood just outside the open barn doors, unwilling to go in and interrupt. He’d taken Sam Clark back to the cabin where he lived and to the house parents, Eleanor and Edward Mack, who would make sure he was safe until he could regain control of his behavior.
The eleven-year-old had been at the ranch for six months. He was a good kid who had seen the bad side of life. The result was a lot of anger. Edward and Eleanor could handle it; with degrees in counseling, and their involvement in the local church, they were experts on the kids at the ranch.
Kids wanted people to connect with. Even when they fought the people who cared, they still wanted to be cared about.
Tanner got it. Until the age of ten he’d lived that same life. His parents had been abusive to each other and their children. They’d been drug addicts who couldn’t hold down jobs. There hadn’t been a safety net until the state sent the three Barstow kids to live with Aunt May in Haven, a community just on the outskirts of Waco. The move had saved his life. His older brother, Travis, had struggled a bit more and had lived at the boys ranch for a while. Their little sister, Chloe, hadn’t been much more than a baby when they were sent to live with their dad’s aunt May.
Young voices erupted as the story being told ended. He peeked inside the barn and watched as those five young boys moved closer to Macy Swanson, her nephew included. The little boy had recently turned seven. Colby’s hand was on her arm, and he stood close to her side. From thirty feet away Tanner could see her nerves. It was easy to perceive that she was afraid to move, afraid to lose the thin thread of connection between her and her nephew.
But the story she’d been telling had enthralled the kids. They were still asking questions about the dragon and the dragon slayer. She was telling them about faith in a way that a kid could understand.
He didn’t know Macy very well, but he had to admire how she could calm a group of rowdy boys with a story. If he was being honest, there were other things to admire, things a man couldn’t help but notice. He sure didn’t mind admiring or noticing. Sunlight danced through the center aisle of the barn, the beams of light catching in the blond hair that hung loose to the middle of her back. She was tall and classy. Beautiful, really.
And all city.
Things transplanted typically did better when transplanted into a similar environment. That was what he knew from living in the country. A water oak didn’t tend to do well in hot, sandy soil. Cacti thrived in the desert. That was just the way it was. City folks thrived in the city, and country people tended to stay in the country.
Macy looked up as he approached, her smile touching her green eyes with a warmth that took him by surprise. The boys remained circled around her. They had avoided the worst of Sam’s outburst and had been entertained with a story; they were on top of the world. Even Ben had lurked at the edge, listening to the story.
Ben, fourteen, tall and lanky with a shock of light brown hair, had been at the ranch for two years. He was a good kid. He’d had one failed attempt at going home. He’d been adopted as a preschooler, and the experts said he had trouble bonding because of his early childhood. That made sense to Tanner. The boy was sometimes angry and tended to push away when he started warming up to people.
But he was doing better. They could all see that.
Time. For so many of these kids it took a lot of time to heal. With that thought, his gaze fell on Colby Swanson. The boy’s parents had died in a car accident, and his grief had turned to anger that made him act out at school and be difficult to handle at home.
When a spot had opened, Macy placed him at the ranch.
“You boys get all of your stuff gathered up.” Tanner let his gaze fall on Colby. The little boy was holding tight to his aunt Macy. “And maybe we can get Miss Swanson to finish her story, or read to you all when you have library time.”
His phone rang. Rotten timing. He would have ignored it, but the caller ID flashed the name of the president of the local chapter of the Lone Star Cowboy League, an organization started over a hundred years earlier to help ranching communities. Since Gabriel Everett didn’t call just to shoot the breeze, it had to be important.
Jake, about the best hand around, had entered the barn from a side door. The big bonus was that not only could he break a horse to saddle, he also had a knack with the kids on the ranch.
“Jake, can you and Ben go ahead and take these guys on down to Bea?” He didn’t have to spell it out. Beatrice Brewster, the no-nonsense director of the LSCL Boys Ranch, ran the show. She’d watch the kids until she got the all clear from house parents Edward and Eleanor, who had their hands full with Sam.
Jake gave him a thumbs-up and started organizing the boys for the march to the main ranch house. Without asking, Macy fell in with Jake and the boys. She volunteered in the ranch office, helping with accounting. She’d also become pretty adept at finding donations and writing up grants. She didn’t usually help with the kids. But at times like this, everyone pitched in and helped out.
“Gabriel, what can I do for you?” Tanner watched as the small troupe marched toward the big ranch house, and then he headed for his truck.
“Tanner, we need to have an emergency meeting of the League. Can you be here in about fifteen minutes? Bring Bea with you. And Katie will probably need to attend so she can take notes for the ranch.”
“I’ll be there.” He glanced at his watch. “What’s going on?”
“I’d rather make the announcement when you get here. Let’s just say that some prayers are answered a little quicker than others.”
Interesting. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
When he pulled up to the ranch, Bea was already on her way down the stairs. Tall and in her fifties, the former social worker for the state was all heart. She adjusted her glasses and smoothed her hair, turning to give a “hurry up” look to the person following her out the door.
Macy Swanson?
The two climbed in his truck, Macy opening the back door and getting in the backseat. Beatrice clicked her seat belt and settled her purse on her lap.
“Katie is staying to help Jake with the kids. I asked Macy to come with us to take notes. I’m going to want my own person there so that we have a record of our own.” Beatrice shot him a questioning look. “Do you know what is going on, Tanner Barstow?”
Like he was one of her kids and someone had TP’d the house.
“No, Bea, I don’t. I got the call the same as you.”
“Gabriel