The Rancher's Redemption. Myra Johnson
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napkin across her lap. “Please, go ahead and eat.”
As he picked up a sandwich triangle, Erin dipped her chin, eyes closed in a moment of silence. He waited respectfully until she looked up. “My turn to apologize,” he murmured. “It’s been a long time since I did any praying.”
“It’s okay. ‘Called or not called, God is present.’” Erin dipped her spoon into her soup and blew gently across the surface.
Kent pondered the words as he took another bite of his sandwich. “Is that a quote from somebody?”
“I don’t know the source, but it’s always given me comfort.” Her gaze shifted toward the window. “There have been plenty of times when I doubted God’s presence. It’s reassuring to know His love and constancy don’t depend on my belief.”
Something else Kent would have to think on for a while. But not today. Best to get through this meal, take care of those security lights and head for home. He still had fences to fix and cattle to tend—things that made sense to him, unlike God and women and anything else that threatened his safe little world.
* * *
Bracing the stepladder with one hand, Erin passed Kent a screwdriver. After a few quick turns, he had the second of the security lights installed, this one over the backyard patio. Before they began, Erin had glanced at the directions. If she had tried to install the lights on her own, she’d still be at step one and utterly confused.
“Almost done,” Kent said. “Pass me up the bulbs and we’ll make sure everything’s working.”
Erin reached into the box at her feet and handed him the floodlight bulbs one at a time. Once he’d screwed them in, he gave her the go-ahead to flip the switch at the breaker box. By the time she returned from the garage, Kent had his tools packed up and the ladder folded.
“Working fine,” he said. “I’ve set the detection zones for both the front and rear fixtures. After it gets dark, anything larger than your neighbor’s cat should trigger the sensor and turn on the lights. Any problems, let me know and I’ll come back to make some adjustments.”
“Thank you. Really, thank you so much.” Erin walked with him around the side of the house to his pickup. As he shoved his toolbox into the space behind the driver’s seat, she said, “Please let me pay you something, though. Lunch hardly seems like a fair trade.”
“Are you kidding?” Kent laughed in a way that made her insides all tingly. “Haven’t eaten so fancy since my last trip home when my mom cooked for me.”
“Where’s home?” Erin asked, realizing she wasn’t particularly anxious for him to leave.
“Tulsa, Oklahoma. My dad has a car dealership there.” Hefting the stepladder, Kent moved around to the pickup bed and laid it inside.
Admiring the way his biceps flexed beneath the sleeves of his Zipp’s Hardware polo shirt, Erin gave herself a mental shake. “Never been to Tulsa. Is it nice?”
“Pretty country, if you can stand the blazing summers and the likelihood of winter ice storms or the occasional blizzard.”
“Is the weather why you moved to Texas?”
A faraway look in his eyes, Kent braced one hip against the side of the truck. “Just always wanted to go into ranching, and when I found the right place at the right price... Well, here I am.” With a smirk, he pivoted to climb in behind the wheel. “And now I’m off to work my cattle. Like I said, call if you have any problems.”
Watching him drive away, Erin sighed as she fingered the Zipp’s Hardware business card he’d given her after jotting his personal cell phone number on the back. She liked Kent Ritter. Liked him a lot. If a man as nice as Kent had come along before she’d met Payne, her life could have turned out a whole lot differently.
Maybe.
Or maybe not. Because she’d had a lot of growing up to do since then, and still had a ways to go. Kent’s words from earlier this afternoon played through her thoughts. You don’t have to apologize all the time. That was the people-pleaser side of her again, making her think the only way to be liked or accepted—or loved—was to continually put others’ needs before her own.
But wasn’t that biblical? Paul wrote in Romans that Christians mustn’t think more highly of themselves than they ought, being kind to one another and putting others first. Jesus Himself said, But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.
Instinctively, Erin’s hand went to her cheek. She could still feel the sting of the last time Payne had slapped her. Her breath quickened. Her heart slammed against her breastbone.
Never again.
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