Second Chance Ranch (15 page)

“With the bank? I thought my dad had looked over our figures. Didn’t he approve?”

She laughed. Really, didn’t the Davidsons ever talk to each other? “He approved. He told me he was going to run the figures by you to see if you approved of them.”

“Of course, I do. I put them together.”

She released a tired laugh. Why was Zac offended by his dad’s concern over her figures? Wasn’t he bidding on the property, too? Jen shook her head. Just like always, she hadn’t a clue what tree Zac was playing in. “Don’t be hard on your dad. He’s just happy we looked at the present day layout of the lateral ditches instead of the ones on record.” She stared ahead through the windshield. “I have a meeting with the Foundation tomorrow.”

“They want a tour of the gorgeous property they’re thinking of investing in?”

“No, to review my performance and evaluate my experience.” She hesitated going down this road after the day they’d just had. “They’re not investing in the property. They’re investing in the program. I’m the one buying the ranch.”

He sat in silence as the traffic lessened and the highway curved into National Forest. The highway bumped and jostled until they eased over to the passing lane. “So, you could have your camp anywhere?”

Technically, yes. But that option wasn’t in her game plan. “No, it’s going to be at the Trails’ End. That’s where I want it.”

A few more moments of weighty silence hung between them. “Why?”

“Because that’s the way Arthur and I planned it. He knew Jess wanted the money off the land instead of treasuring it for the sake of family inheritance, you know, pass down through the family. Arthur knew I loved the heritage of it as much as he did. The last thing he wanted was the Trails’ End parceled off like a tract-home subdivision, which tends to be what developers do these days. Especially with the varied terrain of the ranch. The layout is great for my camp at the plateau just at the base of the mountain rise where we can hike and trail ride, and then I can use the income from the haying operation to help pay, if not pay entirely, the mortgage on the place.”

“Sounds like you have it all thought out in a nice, neat package, don’t you?” His clipped words hung in the air. “You have no idea how to bring your plans on paper to life in the real world.”

“Well, I’m going to have to learn how to manage a camp and acreage sometime, so I might as well learn on terrain I’m familiar with and live on a property with sentimental value.”

“Jen,” his voice softened. “Take it from me, just because the concept jibes on paper doesn’t mean the actual product is going to pan out.”

“Well now.” She fought to keep her hackles down. “I’ve just had the greatest minds in Hawk Ridge ranching industry instruct and review my business plan. Are you telling me the Davidson’s don’t know what they’re talking about? Or, did you skew my numbers?”

He released a sigh and stretched his fingers on the steering wheel before wrapping them back in place. “Jennifer, stop it. That’s not what I’m saying at all, and you know it. Look at what you’re getting yourself into, Jen. It’s you and you alone, right now looking at a potential harvest of twenty-four hundred acres. The Circle D can employ a hundred people if we need to, to get the job done.” He drew a sharp breath like a calm before the storm. “You’ve got the right plans…you may not have the power to pull it off.”

Didn’t he think she’d worried over that? “That’s where faith comes in. I never thought I’d get as far as I have with the camp, much less the bank actually considering my loan application. I’m on my knees every morning and night asking the Lord if this is His will, to help me navigate the trail. So far, I’ve seen miracles and experienced setbacks. When it’s all said and done, all I can say is I tried to listen to His leading.”

Oncoming headlights illuminated his hard jaw and set eyes. His lips parted on a puff of breath. “Sometimes in order to follow His leading, you have to let go.”

Jen dug her fingers into the saddle blanket fabric. “Zac, I know all about letting go.”

“You might know all about it, but are you ready accept the consequences?”

She didn’t have the energy left for this kind of mental gymnastics. Zac could talk circles around her when it came to finances and holdings. And he knew it.
Lord, I don’t want to argue. Keep my words from evil and my eyes on You.
As she folded her hands on her lap, a sense of peace and calm spread over her, as if God had been waiting for her surrender. She toed off her boots and tucked her feet beneath her on the seat. Shifting around, she settled up against Zac with her head on his shoulder as she’d always done. “I guess I’ll find out, won’t I?”

Moments passed as they drove along. Without a word, his arm tucked around her, his fingers wandering within the folds of her jacket, pressing her close, just like always. “I guess we will.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Mrs. Wells hadn’t aged a day in twelve years. Former Sunday School teacher and perpetual president of the Ladies’ Aid Guild, she held more love for the Lord in her sterling silver tea spoon than most people could claim in a bushel basket. He’d tumbled in fights with her boys and cheered on her daughters as they barrel raced in high school rodeo competitions. Now the boys ran her ranch and the girls had married, but still lived close to home. Something about small towns just made it tough to stay away.

He stood behind her in the church narthex as she greeted folks coming in the door. Rain or shine, she stood there with a smile making sure folks knew they were welcome. At a lull in the action, he tapped her on the shoulder. “Jon hasn’t run you bankrupt yet with his eye on the auctions, has he?”

Her face lit up as she turned around. Grasping his hand in her firm hold, she pulled him into a hug. Years melted away as she patted his shoulder like she had when he was a little boy.

She pulled back and held him at arms’ length. “Isaac, nice to see you again. Heard you’d come back for your brother’s wedding, but I never saw you.”

She waited for his answer with an expectant air. Zac searched for a non-cliché answer. He couldn’t find one. “All I can do is beg forgiveness. I’m back for longer now.”

“Humph, well, better to see you now than not at all.” She shook his hand with a grip to match any rancher. “Don’t you go leaving town again without stopping by the house and catching up.”

Forgiven. Zac relaxed with instant relief, the kind he didn’t even realize he’d been waiting for. The kind he wanted to bask in a while longer. Mrs. Wells had always been his champion, defending his rambunctious behavior to anyone who complained. She’d understood boys, an insight he appreciated to this day. “I’ll stop by this week since I’m not planning on leaving.”

Her gray eyes studied him before she urged him to go socialize. “Fine. Fine. Come over soon, we’ll talk then. My cookie jar is always full. Right now, I have people to invite into the house of God.”

He gave her a hug and then turned toward the crowd of people. Folks milled around greeting one another as they’d done for years. A few couples smiled and nodded. A slow warmth grew within him as he greeted friends he hadn’t seen in ages. Just like old times.

Funny how some things change and others…just don’t.

“Zac. It’s been a long time, my friend. Heard you’ve been harvesting up at the Eklund place.” Neal Stricher came up behind him with a cup of coffee in hand.

Zac shook hands and gave Neal a slap on the back. A few years older than Zac, Neal had been a worthy roping opponent. “Word travels, huh? Jess asked me to help out.”

“If I’d known that’s all it took to get you to come back to Hawk Ridge, I’d’ve asked you to bring in
my
hay a long time ago.” Neal cracked a familiar grin. He’d always been built slim; the years of hard ranching had made him solid. “Could’ve taken Cheryl and the kids on vacation.”

Zac laughed. “Didn’t think your place was for sale, too.”

“Trails’ End?” A strange look came over Neal. “I thought Jennifer was buying that for her camp.”

“She’s got first dibs.” He chose his words carefully. “I’m just here to catch crumbs if they fall.”

Neal didn’t appear to be satisfied. He took a quick sip from his Styrofoam coffee cup and pointed across the room. “She know this?”

Oh yeah. And making the most of every minute of it. He kept his grin in place. “Jen is in a fine position to buy the place, Neal. Like I said, I’m only here for back-up. Besides, I think the camp is great. I’ve stopped in a time or two.” The next words stuck on his tongue. “The camp counselor over there does a great job keeping the kids happy.”

Neal’s shoulders relaxed. “Glad you and Jennifer talk. When she left to go to school, we didn’t think she’d come back either. Glad she did.”

“I can’t agree with you more.” Zac listened for strains of organ music to signal the beginning of the service, but all he heard was Miss Eleanor talking about her summer pies and Jake Small bragging about the high school football team. He turned back to Neal. “Now, what’s new in your life?”

Neal went on to chat about his marriage to Cheryl Slaughter, his four kids and expanding cattle operation. Zac listened with half an ear. He found his attention straying to the ride home after his tests at the hospital. What happened there? One minute they were toasting up for a real contest of wills…and the next thing he knew, she was curled up at his side and he’d slung his arm around her. He’d had so much pent up frustration, he wanted to yell. Yet, when he felt her lean close and put her head on his shoulder, he couldn’t help but turn on their favorite country station, and kiss the top of her head.

Just thinking about the evening made his insides zing. He nodded at Neal as he scanned the crowd for Jennifer, but came up empty.

Instead, familiar arms wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so glad you joined us for church this morning, honey.” His mother gave him a squeeze then stepped back, keeping her hand on his arm. “Is Jennifer here, too?”

“I’ve only seen Doc O’Reilly.” He shook hands with his dad and indicated the back of the room. “Over by the music room.”

Martin glanced over Zac’s shoulder. “Sure enough. Doc O’Reilly’s already nabbed Melanie. Probably scolding her for being on her feet.”

Zac peeked over to the group. Doc had a concerned look on his face, Melanie smiled and nodded, Gabe frowned.

And Jen stood beside Melanie, her smile directed at him.

His heart picked up the pace as she broke away from the group and came toward them.

“Grace, Martin. Glad to see you.” She stepped up beside him and hooked her arm through his. “There really isn’t much room on your family pew with Melanie taking up enough room for a small family.” She laughed. “Want to sit with us?”

“Jennifer O’Reilly. Don’t go making fun of our Melanie. She’s uncomfortable enough as it is.” Grace lowered her voice and spoke into his shoulder. “Go on, Zac, sit with Jennifer. Melanie does take up a little more room than usual.”

“Not to worry, Mom.” He tightened his arm to his side effectively holding Jen’s in place. “I want my sister-in-law as comfortable as possible.”

Her fingers snagged his sleeve as she tugged him around. “Let’s go.”

They filed into the sanctuary just as the music rang the final chord. Pastor Dave gave his greeting and the congregation turned to the first hymn of the day.

Zac looked around the sanctuary. Ranchers he’d grown up to respect and admire over the years; pews filled with friends who’d remained in Hawk Ridge and started families; a variety of new faces that blended in well with the old. Even sitting in the pew with Jen brought back memories of when they’d attended Sunday services together in high school, sitting at the back of the sanctuary, and holding hands, their sides pressed together from shoulder to knee even though only a couple of other folks occupied the rest of the pew. He remembered holding her hand and marveling over how soft her skin as the light, fruity fragrance she wore teased his nose. He’d had a hard time concentrating on Pastor Dave’s message then; right now, he wasn’t having an easier time of it.

“Grow up! Act like men!” Pastor Dave stood behind the pulpit, his gaze darting about the men of the congregation. “I know you look like adults - tall, strong, handsome. But age has nothing to do with it. Maturity makes the man, not age.”

Zac shifted in his seat as if the pastor had glimpsed his thoughts and discovered Zac’s mind elsewhere.

“Let me repeat again what First Corinthians 16:13 says: ‘Be on the alert, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong.’ Of these four commands we’re reflecting on today, only “act like a man” is mentioned once in the New Testament. Only once. This is God’s wake up call to us, He’s drilling His finger in our chests.”

His mouth went dry as Zac stiffened. Where had this message come from? Why today of all days? Zac loved the Lord with all his heart, had been a faithful believer since he didn’t know when. But no message had ever hit him like this. He glanced around the congregation hoping to seeing others as taken aback as he. Nothing but calm showed on the faces of the men seated around him. He stole a glance at Jennifer and Doc O’Reilly. They sat still, absorbed in the moment.

“Today’s culture is looking for scapegoats-a blame game of epic proportions.” Pastor Dave fell silent a moment. “Paul’s point isn’t any less sharp today as it was two thousand years ago. Isn’t it time you take responsibility for your own actions? When you do something wrong, own up to it. Did you cause a problem? Admit it. That’s what adults do, they take responsibility for their actions. Behave as men and women. Or better yet, act like ladies and gentlemen. If you give your word, keep it. Maturity. Be faithful and true.”