Chapter Four

      As Lana pulled up to the ranch the next day after school, she saw Flint waiting for her. Arms crossed, big like a mountain.

      Her heart pounded way harder than it should. What had she gotten herself into? Why had Flint’s problem, how to take care of his son and give him the attention he needed, somehow become her problem?

      As soon as she parked and got out of her car, he approached her. “We need to talk,” he said, “before Logan gets here.”

      “Sure. He’s riding the late bus, right?” She’d brought a bag with a change of clothes, and she pulled it out of her backseat. “By the way, the terms you texted me last night were more than adequate.”

      “I’ve been thinking since then,” he said. “Give that bag to me. Let’s walk and talk.”

      “Being a foreman means you’re bossy, I guess?” She let him take the bag out of her hands, because it seemed like it wouldn’t do much good to argue.

      One side of his mouth quirked up just a little. “Maybe. Come on. I want to show you something.” He shepherded her toward the rear of the ranch house.

      His hand on the small of her back meant nothing, she reminded herself as he ushered her through the kitchen. Just another piece of his bossiness. But the unseasonably warm weather made her fan herself and inch away from him as they arrived at a room in the back. Actually, a little apartment.

      “We got to thinking,” he said. “Marnie and Bea and I. We wondered if you’d want to stay here through the holidays.”

      “Stay here?” She looked around the cozy little efficiency. “Why? I have a place in town.”

      “True, but sometimes, I have to work late. Mrs. Toler used to stay over, but it wouldn’t be appropriate...” He trailed off.

      Lana swallowed.

      “Anyway, it’s inconvenient having to bring clothes along each day, isn’t it?”

      She turned around, looking at the apartment. “It’s true I haven’t really settled my place yet,” she admitted. The small apartment building where she lived in Haven had been a temporary solution when she’d gotten the teaching job in August. And she’d been feeling depressed about being there alone over the holidays. To live at the ranch, surrounded by all the kids and clutter and life... It would definitely suit her.

      “See, there’s a desk and study lamp.” He turned it on, then off again. “For your teacher work. The place isn’t fancy, but...”

      The door to the apartment burst open, and Bea Brewster, the fiftysomething director of the boys ranch, came in. Tall, with no-nonsense brown hair and glasses, she was stern and fair. The boys all knew they couldn’t pull anything over on her. And everyone learned pretty quickly that there was a heart of gold beneath her businesslike facade.

      “Just the two people I want to see,” she said. “Do the two of you have a moment? Did I hear, Lana, that you might stay with us for a while?”

      Lana blinked. “I... I might. Flint suggested the idea just now. Is that what you wanted to talk about? If it’s a question of rent, I’m month by month at my apartment...”

      “No. No rent.” Bea patted Lana’s shoulder. “It’s just standing empty. You’re one of our best volunteers. Take it.”

      “But someone else might want—”

      Bea waved a hand. “All of our other volunteers have...” She paused, her mouth quirking as if she was embarrassed. “No one else needs it.”

      Heat rose in Lana’s face. She knew exactly what Bea had been about to say. All of our other volunteers have families. She took a quick glance at Flint. Did he think she was pitiful, all alone in the world?

      He was looking at her thoughtfully, but exactly what he was thinking, she couldn’t tell.

      “Now,” Bea said, “I want to talk to the both of you about the Christmas pageant.”

      Lana couldn’t restrain a little hand clap. “I remember those from growing up around here. They were wonderful. You’re still doing them?”

      “Well,” Bea said, “I hope so. The community loves it, the boys love it...” She waved an expressive arm back toward the rest of the ranch house. “We all love it. But with the move and all it entails, I just don’t have time to do the pageant justice, and it’s floundering for lack of leadership. We’re in a new venue, and we need new ideas. Lana, would you consider taking charge of it?”

      “I...” Lana gulped. “When is it?”

      “It’s in exactly ten days.” Bea sighed. “Next Friday night, which doesn’t give us much time. I have the scripts, and the parts are assigned, but I haven’t done much more than that. You can rehearse the boys over the weekend and after school, and once they’re off, they can rehearse all day if you want them to.”

      “It sounds like you have it organized pretty well,” Lana temporized, wondering if she could possibly make the time to do it. “It’s true I did community theater when I was growing up.”

      “Then you’ll do it?” Bea asked, smiling as if she already had Lana’s answer.

      Lana felt overwhelmed, but she also wanted to help. “I’ll give it a try. Just show me where the materials are, and the scripts, and the assigned parts, and... I’ll take it from there.”

      “Thank you!” Bea pulled her into a hug. “You’re such an asset to the ranch. Now, Flint.” She looked at the big rancher, who’d been standing off to the side in his quiet way. “I think it would be best to do the pageant in the storage barn. We’ll let some of the older boys off their regular chores to help clean it, and the Macks have agreed to supervise that, since several of their boys will be involved.” She turned to Lana. “The Macks—Eleanor and Edward—are our house parents in Wing One.”

      Lana nodded. “I’ve met them.”

      “Someone will need to build the sets.” Bea looked up at Flint. “I know you’re busy, but you helped last year, so you know what’s involved. Are you willing to spearhead that part?”

      Lana’s stomach danced with some strange kind of butterflies. She was already going to be spending time with Flint, as Logan’s nanny. If he helped with the pageant, that would be even more togetherness. And the fact that she felt more excited than upset was bad news.

      She did not need to get a crush on the ranch foreman. Anything remotely resembling love meant heartbreak. She’d seen that all too clearly. “I’m good with a hammer,” she offered, giving Flint a way out.

      “I’m sure you are, dear,” Bea said, “and resourceful to boot. But you’ll have your hands full with the boys.”

      “I’d like to help.” Flint spoke slowly. “But I’ve recently realized—” he glanced at Lana, then back at Bea “—that I’m not giving Logan the time he deserves. I hesitate to take on another commitment that would pull me away from him.”

      “But that’s the beauty of this assignment.” Bea raised a hand for emphasis. “Logan has a part in the pageant, and I’d like all the boys to be participating in the set building when they’re not practicing their parts. The more skills we can give them, the better, and it’s a chance to develop their work ethic. So you’d actually be spending more time with your son.”