Second Chance Ranch (10 page)

“People come to the mountains to ski and hike and camp. It’s beautiful up here for vacations and camps, right?”

“Right!” The kids answered as one voice, laughing and jumping up and down.

Jen raised her hand and the group went quiet. “God blessed this land to raise crops, too. Our growing season is much shorter than the plains, but we harvest hay and grains, too. Mr. Zac is going to cut hay so we have food for our horses and cattle this winter. He’s going to drive through here over the next couple of weeks on different equipment to get his job done while we enjoy camp. He’s going to keep an eye out for you, but we have to be careful not to get in his way.”

“Mr. Zac?” A little girl with cast on her forearm waved from the back. “Can we have a ride?”

The kids all stared at him, eager smiles ranging from timid to rarin’-to-go. What was protocol for something like this? He stared at a nightmare liability case if anyone got hurt.

Jen held up her hand again and the group went quiet. “This camp session is the last one of the year because the days are getting short and the nights are colder. Mr. Zac has a lot of work to do before the snow falls. The sooner he gets done, the better.” She angled her chin toward him with a hesitant smile. “Let’s pray that he gets his work done in time, and maybe he’ll have time to visit with us.”

“Are you a real cowboy, Mr. Zac?” The little girl at the back had moved to the front. Her soft blonde curls clouded around her face. “Where’s your cowboy hat?”

He preferred a ball cap. It was cooler in the summer than a hat. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

A bright pink colored her cheeks. “Amy.”

“Well, Amy, when I’m driving a tractor with a cab, a hat gets in the way. I wear my cowboy hat when I ride my horse.”

“We have horses here,” — she turned and looked at Jen — “don’t we, Miss Jennifer?”

Jen placed her hand on the girl’s shoulder and gave her a hug. “Yes, we do, Amy. Maybe when Mr. Zac is finished in the fields, he’ll come ride with us.”

“Would you, Mr. Zac?”

Zac caught Jen’s gaze, the sweet softness in her blue eyes taking him back years to the time they’d played at the Trails’ End. They’d ridden horses, chased around the hay bales, and kissed in the shadows like the summer would never end. The whole time, she made him feel special.

“Mr. Zac?” Amy stared expectantly as did the rest of the kids.

The memory faded but the warmth in his heart remained. He nodded. “I know some roping tricks, too.”

* * *

“This is ridiculous. He’s driving farm equipment through the camp, working strange hours, interrupting our activities.” Jen paced across the hard wood floor, turning at the elk mount above the oak bookcase and retracing her steps. “It’s like he wants to destroy everything I’ve worked for and ruin what we’re trying to do for the kids.”

“Sit down before you hurt yourself.” Trevor Hockett caught her by the shoulders and directed her to the club chair. He held on until she sank into the plush cushion. “Now, take a breath and douse the steam rising from your collar. Start again and tell me who
he
is.”

Jen sat on the edge of the chair and crossed her legs. She managed a breath, but there was nothing deep about it. “Zac Davidson is running equipment across the compound at all times during the day. He goes from one field to another and each time I stop him, he tells me he’s being economical. He doesn’t want to waste gas and time.”

“I can’t believe Zac is putting the kids at risk like that.” Trevor hiked a hip on the edge of his mahogany desk. Settling his chin in his palm, he tapped his finger along his jaw. “He’s pretty ruthless in business deals, but I never thought he’d put a child in danger.”

Her conscience slapped her. “He’s not really putting the kids in danger. He stops by the rec center and tells us ahead of time that he’s coming through so we can keep the kids out of the way.”

“So he’s not a hazard.” He lowered his hand to the desk and leaned toward her. “What’s the problem?”

Nothing…Everything.
“He’s a big, huge, irritating distraction, Trevor. We’re trying to play soccer games, coach archery, play games outside while the temps are warm, and he’s running haying equipment just past the trees. Can’t he wait until this
final
camp session is over?”

Dressed in jeans and a white button down shirt, Trevor exuded the cowboy mystique with a lawyer’s logic. He sat there staring at her as her face warmed, his booted foot swinging back and forth from the edge of the desk. Jen had never seen Trevor in action in the courtroom, but from the way he weighed his speculation of her reasons, she knew his defense would be nothing short of killer.

“Jen, pull your head out of the barn and think about what you’re saying. Our days are short; the nights are chilly and longer.” He ticked off the reasons on his fingers. “Time is running out on the harvest. He has to cut and bale while the weather permits.”

“But we haven’t heard any of the equipment while Splint and Max were working.” She pointed out, defending her ire. “They worked at the other end of the property. We didn’t even know they were there.”

Trevor laid a look on her. “With our growing season upt here, you cut fields once. If the guys cut and baled the far fields already, the ones left are the plots closer to the ranch house and the camp. Jen, Zac can only harvest what’s left to harvest. If you haven’t figured out the basics of farming, your business plan is going to sink.”

Understanding dawned through her anger. Max had told her they’d try not to disrupt her camp session a couple of weeks ago, and she’d barely realized they’d been running equipment. Of course, they started in the far fields. Her palm itched to smack herself upside the head. Still, understanding the problem didn’t make her feel better. She wasn’t ready to concede. “This session is not giving the campers the full wilderness experience.”

“I hate to say it, but that’s not Zac’s fault. Maybe you shouldn’t schedule anything beyond Labor Day.”

“Trevor.” Her nails dug deeper into her palms as she glared at his raised brow. “Who’s side are you on?”

“The side of common sense which seems to have been thrown completely into the ditch.” He shook his head as he stood from his perch and angled around the desk. “What’s gotten into you? You and Zac used to be inseparable, now you’re tearing into him like a mother raccoon defending her stash.”

She watched him settle into his chair and lean back. “Trevor, he wants my ranch. He’s got Jess on his side, and between the two of them there’s no telling what kind of loophole they’re going to create.” Jen spared no thought to the shallowness of her explanation. “Arthur and I had it all figured out. Jess is supposed to sell the ranch to
me
.”

“The will states you get first chance at buying the ranch at the agreed upon price.” He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair. “I’m not going to let anything mess with the stated wishes of that will. There are stipulations you have to meet before this deal will go through and you’re well on your way to meeting them. There’s nothing wrong with Jess accepting a back-up contract. It’s only good business. Especially when the second offer comes from a local family with ties to the community. Jess has all angles sewn up. He can’t lose.” Trevor splayed his hands and shrugged. “That’s the way good business runs.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. “You’re helping me get this deal, remember?”

“I can only help you as long as you help yourself, and fighting Zac Davidson over something he hasn’t done is not smart thinking.” He steepled his fingers and stared at her. “Again I ask, what’s up between you and Zac?”

She couldn’t tell him about Carli, or the tests, or the cancer. How was she supposed to explain her irrational behavior?
Oh Lord, I’m so confused.
“Too much stress,” she mumbled.

“If you think you’re stressed now, Jennifer O’Reilly, be prepared for ten times worse when you buy the Trails’ End. If I were you, I’d make peace with Zac and get your head back on straight. Time is running out.” He softened his tone and a measure of encouragement filled the room. “You only have a few more weeks to get your plans in place before your loan review. You’ll be finishing up this camp session, completing your business plan and your planting schedule. Don’t forget the Foundation and fund-raising. I’m counting on you to wow the committee with your brilliance.”

He paused as the enormity of the situation washed over her. “Jen, I’m here for you.”

All she wanted to do was dive into her bed, rub her face into her pillow and pull the covers up over her head. Her dream seemed so easy to attain when she and Arthur had talked about the barn and outbuildings being remodeled for a recovery camp. They’d exchanged ideas and drawn up plans while drinking iced tea on the porch of his old ranch house. No mention of crops, or equipment maintenance, or structural soundness had crossed her mind until after the good Lord had called Arthur home and Jess Eklund had to offer her first purchase rights as his father’s will had dictated. Lucky for her, Trevor Hockett had drawn up Arthur’s will. He was aware of Arthur’s enthusiasm for her project. Trevor had defended her claim, had assured Jess she could present an acceptable purchase proposal.

Right now, Jen feared the worst. “Trevor?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you really think I can do this?” She barely heard her own words.

“Yes.” He stretched his arm across the desk and touched her hand with the tips of his fingers. “Yes, I do. But Jen? No amount of my faith in you will help if you don’t have faith in yourself. Your heart has been knocked askew and needs to be put back in place. Remember, the kids come first. Grow God’s faith in the kids He’s entrusted to you. Show them how their weakness has only made them stronger. Put His work first and everything else will fall into place.” A grin eased across his face. “Isn’t that what you always told me?”

“You can’t use my own logic against me.”

“I certainly can. Junior High debate team told me so.”

“Nerd.” She laughed, despite the tension mounting in her shoulders.

He grinned “True, but I’m a nerd who believes that things happen for a reason. Believe this will work out for the best.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Amazing how dark the nights got on the mountain without the lights of the city. Bright stars sparkled in nothing but inky black. An easy breeze rustled the limbs of the blue spruces making the light of the partial moon dance through their needles.

Zac walked along the dirt service road back to his truck parked by the storage shed. The feel of solid ground beneath his feet a relief from the jarring rhythm of the Eklund swather. Ancient workhorse. Zac rubbed the palm of his hand. The steering wheel rattled so hard, he wasn’t sure the nerves in his palm would ever be the same.

He hadn’t driven farm equipment since he’d left the Circle D twelve years earlier – the technique easily remembered; the sore muscles conveniently forgotten. Installing a hot tub with turbo jets jumped to the top of his must-have list.

“Isn’t it late to be calling?”

Zac jerked toward the quiet voice coming from the shadows on the porch. Jen sat in the wicker loveseat on the other side of the porch, her feet tucked up in the cushions. She pulled the earphone and turned off her MP3 player. The other day they’d stood by the railing, each of them taking a turn pacing the porch as she revealed the details of her painful secret. Tonight, she looked as cozy and inviting as her gentle voice.

His gaze quickly adjusted to the light. Her tousled hair covering her shoulders kept him staring. “Didn’t anyone tell you farmers put in long days?”

She straightened in her seat and brushed strands of hair from her face as if she’d been dozing. “How do you cut a field at night?”

“Headlights.” He swallowed the sigh he felt as she stretched and settled back into the chair. Though he’d fortified walls against her in his mind, his heart summoned unappreciated memories of cold football games where they’d huddled together beneath a blanket in the stadium stands, her frigid hands tunneled within the folds of his jacket for warmth and his arm curled possessively around her shoulders making sure she stayed close. Every few plays she’d shift and stretch, his palms caressing the toned muscles of her shoulders before she settled back against him. He shook away the memory as vivid as if it were just last weekend. “Modern marvels.”

“You’ve been working all afternoon and evening?” She yawned while she arranged the paperwork scattered around her. “Have you eaten anything?”

A civil conversation was the last thing he’d expected. Sarcastic and withering, yes; sleepy and inviting, no. With his boot on the bottom step of the porch, he leaned against the newel post. “That’s what I’m heading to do. Eat and sleep. Then tomorrow, do it all again. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’ll roll on home now.”

“Zac, come up here and sit down. I’ve got leftovers.” She stood and stretched her arms over her head. With the kinks worked out, she extended her hand to him like a lifeline. “C'mon. The Bible says to feed the hungry.”

His palm slipped into hers, her skin warm and soft. He lumbered up the two steps like an ox. “I’m not a fan of leftovers.”

“They’re not leftovers to you." She pulled him toward the other wicker chair then let go. "I’ll be right back.”