Redeeming the Rancher

Had he said or done something to send her off-­kilter? And if he had, what could he do to take the edge off?

“I’d be happy to accept.”

Not that. He wanted to kick himself for his sheer stupidity. Open wide, mouth, ’cause he had two feet coming.

If only he could take back the words. In his rush to make her feel more comfortable, he’d dived right off the side of a cliff without looking to see if there was water at the bottom of the canyon, never mind how deep. What had happened to his not wanting to be beholden to her? Sharing meals with her was just exactly the kind of thing he was trying to avoid. Here he went again, acting like an imbecile over a pretty face. He’d wanted to ease her obvious discomfort, he’d panicked, and he had blurted out the first solution that had come into his mind. Idiot.

“Oh, my goodness,” Alexis exclaimed, clapping a palm against her cheek. “I didn’t realize. I should have been thinking of your predicament yesterday. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think things through. I hope you got along okay last night. You didn’t have a thing to eat. Oh, my goodness,” she repeated.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at how flustered she’d become over his “predicament,” as she’d called it. “Don’t worry about me. You don’t need to feel obligated. I managed just fine. I had supper with the ranch hands. Since the cook has Sundays off, they were kind enough to open a can of beans for me. Oh, and don’t forget I had my loaf of bread from breakfast.” He grinned, hoping the statement didn’t come out sounding facetious. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“I am so sorry.”

She was an astute woman and correctly interpreted his tone. “No worries. I’ll admit it was a bit of a challenge at the outset. I didn’t expect all the stores and restaurants in town to be closed on Sunday. But as I said—no worries. It all worked out in the wash.”

“But still—I should have realized you’d be in a pinch. I should have at least thought about it. Please forgive me for not realizing your dilemma.”

“Not your problem,” he reminded her again. “It isn’t up to you to make sure I get fed.”

As sweet as the woman was for wanting to look out for him, she took too much on herself. He’d showed up out of nowhere with no advance warning, and yet she was treating him as though he was a guest at her ranch. He didn’t want her to think she was accountable for him—not in any way, shape or form.

“It kind of is my problem.” She propped her fists on her hips, tilted her head up to meet his eyes and set her jaw. Her gaze was no-nonsense, almost daring him to argue with her. She was nothing if not determined. “You are my responsibility as long as you’re staying at my ranch.”

No. This wasn’t right at all.

It was as if she’d dropped a cage over him, trapping him behind steel bars. He didn’t like the feeling. Every muscle in his body tensed for flight and he had to consciously breathe through the urge to sprint away. “Let me reiterate—you are under no obligation to take care of me. I don’t want to be any kind of bother to you. I’ll just stay out of your way.”

And you stay out of mine, he added silently. He’d come out here to get away from debts and commitments. If she took charge of him while he stayed at the ranch, then he would feel beholden toward her, which was the last thing he wanted.

“But you’ll still take supper at the house, right? At least tonight? Then you can decide if you want to come back for another meal. I promise not to poison you.” She chuckled drily.

It wasn’t the possibility of being poisoned that he was worried about. On the second pass, conceding to her wishes didn’t sound any better than it had at first. She was practically forcing him into her debt and he was definitely making extra work for her. He desperately wanted to backpedal, except that her voice sounded so hopeful, not to mention the expectant look in her compelling blue eyes that tugged at his heart despite his best efforts to ignore it.

Those pink-tinged cheeks and that ready smile were hard to say no to. He just wasn’t strong enough to deny her.

“I’ll be prompt,” he promised her through gritted teeth. He was crazy to be doing this. Out of his mind.

She sighed in relief, as if the fate of the world had turned on his answer.

“Great. I’ll see you tonight, then,” she affirmed cheerfully. “Seven o’clock sharp. Dress is casual. Don’t forget. We’ll be expecting you.”

She didn’t wait for his reply. Instead she turned on her heel and walked away, down the porch stairs and back up the slight incline toward the main house.

“Uh—thank you,” he called after her, feeling as though he needed to say something nice to her, even if he felt like cursing on the inside. He was digging himself further and further into a hole of his own making.

Wait—what? She’d said we. Had she invited others to take supper with her? It seemed like something Alexis would do—try to introduce him to others in the town.

He sighed. Yet another bump in the road. He was trying to avoid people, not engage with them. But Alexis wasn’t “people.” She was a thoughtful, sensitive woman and even though he knew he shouldn’t, he found himself looking forward to sharing supper with her.

He liked her. He wanted to get to know her better.

That made him a fool. And, worse yet, it made Alexis the biggest threat of all.

Chapter Three

Alexis set an enormous platter of home-fried potatoes at one end of the long, rectangular oak dining table and then glanced at her watch. Ten minutes until seven. She had six troubled teenagers fresh off of the bus and joining her for supper tonight.

And then there was Griff.

Her pulse gave a little leap, but she wrote that off to the adrenaline-packed afternoon she’d just experienced. Intake days were always exciting for her whenever she took in a whole new group of kids at Redemption Ranch. Six brand-new hearts to influence with the love of Christ. No matter how surly and off-putting they generally acted about it at first, she knew that’s all it was—an act. The kids really did crave love, and here at the ranch, that’s what they got, in spades.

Showering them with affection was a great part of her theory behind helping troubled kids turn their lives around, although in practice, it was the tough part of the love that usually brought about immediate change. She had to show them they mattered to her so they could gain the confidence to believe in themselves.

It wasn’t an easy job, and definitely not for the faint of heart. The teenagers pressed her and pushed her to see how far she’d bend. But her methods worked. Her kids didn’t leave with the same bad attitudes they arrived with.

And she loved it. She loved the teenagers. In fact, the whole process was a blessing to her. She’d proved herself and her techniques repeatedly in the years since she’d opened Redemption Ranch as an alternative to community service for non-violent juvenile offenders.

Her brain-child. Her ministry.

Her life.

Working with teens on this ranch was the only thing she could imagine herself doing with her life; the one career into which she really believed she could put her whole heart.

She reached for a pair of green-apple pot holders and removed the spiral ham from the oven, placing it on the countertop to cool. She smoothed her hair back and sighed, lifting her heart in prayer before her emotions bottomed out. It wouldn’t do for the kids, or for Griff for that matter, to walk in and catch her crying.

She didn’t have a depressive nature by any means. But at the moment the future loomed black for her. All her hard work at the ranch was going to be for nothing unless God somehow blessed her in a big way with the means to stay financially afloat. And soon.

She hadn’t shared her anxieties with anyone. She wasn’t the type of woman to burden anyone else with facts she could not change—not even her two best friends Samantha and Mary. No sense worrying them. But the truth was, though the Lord was blessing the ministry in the sense that the teenagers in her care were growing and flourishing both emotionally and spiritually, financially speaking, Redemption Ranch was tanking. She had enough money left—barely—to fund the necessities for this group of kids, but then it was over. Done. Kaput.

Not only was she going to lose her ministry, she was going to lose the ranch if she couldn’t find a way to get more money. She certainly couldn’t borrow any more. The ranch was already double-mortgaged as it was. How else would she have paid for Vivian’s dream to go to cosmetology school in Houston? It had seemed like the logical solution at the time, and with the money she’d gotten from the bank, she’d had a little extra to put into the beginning of her work in ministry.