The Rancher's Answered Prayer

She pulled a folded piece of paper from the hip pocket of her jeans and showed it to him. He lifted his eyebrows and made an executive decision.

“We’ll split the bill with you.”

Tina blinked at that. “You will?”

“Seems to me we ought to be sharing all the utilities. And paying for groceries. At least so long as we’re sharing the house.”

“I’m not going to argue with that.”

He bit his tongue to keep from blurting out how much that surprised him. Somehow he’d expected her to argue about every little thing, even when it worked to her advantage. Finishing his sandwich, he plucked an orange from the bowl on the table and sat back in his chair to peel it.

“Where are the boys?”

“Giving Ryder headaches, I imagine,” she replied. “He was supposed to put Frankie down for a nap before patching the ceiling in that one bedroom. I told Tyler not to tag along with them, but Ryder said he didn’t mind. Since Tyler and I are going to start his homeschooling tomorrow, I let it go.”

Wyatt nodded, unconcerned but puzzled. Ryder was good with Frankie. He didn’t see why Ryder couldn’t handle Tyler, too. On the other hand, he didn’t understand why Tina didn’t give the War Bonnet elementary school a chance. She had more than enough to do without adding homeschooling to the ever-growing list.

“I’ve always understood that the school here in War Bonnet is above average, with small classes, dedicated teachers and a solid curriculum. There was a time my folks thought about moving up here so my brothers and I could attend this school. If Dad’s business hadn’t taken off so well, I think they might’ve done it.”

After his mom’s death, his dad had almost sent him and his brothers here to live with Dodd. Wyatt would have welcomed that, but even at fifteen he’d understood that sending them away would have meant the end of Al Smith. Their dad had needed them as much as they’d needed him, so Wyatt had argued against the plan and promised to take on more responsibility than a fifteen-year-old ever should.

He wasn’t certain that it had made any real difference in the end. It seemed to him that all Albert had ever done was go through the motions until he’d just given up. Sort of like Tina was doing right now. She pretended great interest in the condition of the worn wooden countertops, scrubbing them with a rag, though they already looked cleaner than Wyatt had ever seen them.

“Semester’s already half-through,” she said, industriously rubbing away with that limp rag.

“What difference does that make? At least Tyler would have a chance to make friends his own age.”

“I know what’s best for my own son,” she snapped, whirling around to confront him.

Wyatt held up his hands in surrender. “I just wondered, that’s all.”

“Well, don’t,” she muttered, turning back to her task. At the last moment, she gave it up, tossing the rag into the sink.

Changing the subject, Wyatt asked, “Did Dodd say anything to you about planting grass?”

“Grass?” she echoed uncertainly. “Not that I recall. Why?”

Wyatt explained about the fenced fields of grass and the windmills. She shook her head.

“That doesn’t make a bit of sense.”

“Doesn’t seem to, but Dodd usually knew what he was about.”

She parked her hands on the edge of the counter behind her. “Like leaving you the land and me the house that sits on it?” she drawled sarcastically.

Maybe the old man had been losing it, after all. Wyatt pushed back his chair. “Think I’ll head over to the Billings place and see if anyone there has a clue.”

“Supper at six,” Tina told Wyatt, as he made for the door, “and it’s flashlights again tonight. Electrician can’t come until tomorrow.”

“At least there’s hot water,” he pointed out, pushing through the screen door, giving Tina one last surreptitious look before walking outside.

Why couldn’t he seem to stop staring at the woman? He saw women every day who he barely noticed. Now the prickliest one he’d ever encountered, the one who’d messed up all his carefully designed plans, had him gawking like a teenage boy.

Lord, whatever You’re doing here, he prayed silently as he strode for his truck, I wish You’d let me in on it.

God brought nothing to mind, however, as Wyatt drove toward Straight Arrow Ranch, so he supposed he’d just have to muddle through as best he could.

He caught Rex finishing up his lunch. His father, Wes, was there, along with the very fellow Wyatt most wanted to see.

Dean Pryor was a tall, muscular, fair-haired man with a ready smile. Wyatt could see why Delgado had referred to him as a boy. He had a sense of relaxed fun about him that was usually associated with carefree children. Still, no one could doubt Pryor’s maturity or resist the sparkle of his blue eyes. Wyatt imagined that he was just the sort to charm every woman he met. He happily answered Wyatt’s every question.

Unfortunately, Dean didn’t have any idea why Dodd had hired him to sow grasses on the property, five varieties in all, especially as every site had been covered with natural grass already standing tall. The selections of sites and grasses had been well planned, however. Dodd had made sure that those varieties that most needed water had water available. The more drought-resistant varieties had gone in where no immediate water source was located.

“I thought he might be cooperating with a government test,” Pryor reported, “but when I suggested that, he just about doubled over laughing.”

“Did he explain why he fenced the grass fields?”

Pryor spread his broad, capable hands. “I didn’t know he had.”

No one else around the table seemed to have any answers for him.

“Boys, we better get back at it,” Wes interjected before taking a final slug of his coffee. “I’ve got a list a mile long of things to get done before the wedding.”

Wyatt glanced at Dean, though he definitely recalled Delgado saying that Pryor had already married Rex’s sister. As if he knew what Wyatt was thinking, Dean grinned.

“Don’t look at me. I’m married and got two kids already.”

Everyone laughed. Wes raised his hand, saying, “I’m the groom. Y’all think you’re so funny.”

“Dad roped and tied the local doc,” Rex chortled.

“Don’t let Alice hear you say that,” Callie scolded. “She’ll rope, tie and sedate you.”

“I’ll be all for it by the time we get these calves cut,” Rex declared, pushing up to his feet.

Dean, too, rose. “I might as well get back to playing cowboy before my wife comes looking for a babysitter.”

“You picked a good day. It’s Wednesday. We’ll have to knock off early for prayer meeting tonight,” said Wes.

“Stark might be able to pitch in,” Rex suggested. “Why don’t I give him a call?”

“Stark Burns is the busiest man I know,” Wes said, shaking his head. “Even if that daughter of mine has slowed him down a notch or two.”

“Wait,” Wyatt interjected, pointing at Dean. “I thought he was married to your daughter.”

“I’ve got two daughters,” Wes said with a big grin. “Three, counting Callie here.”

She went on tiptoe to kiss her father-in-law’s cheek.