A Ranch to Call Home

The lady had guts. And smarts. And he didn’t doubt she was going to run Joel and him to the ground.

Oddly, he didn’t mind.

* * *

Kaye reread the verse Ps 94:17. Unless the Lord had been my help, my soul had almost dwelt in silence. She closed her Bible and felt the deep peace that scripture brought her. She remembered waking up in the hospital in Ramstein, Germany hearing that verse. She’d been in and out of consciousness, and when she’d finally awoken, night nurse 2nd Lt. Jenna Mayfield had been there, reading to her from the Bible.

Each time Kaye read that verse, she knew that God had shielded her. “I don’t know what I’m to do now, Lord. Why’d you save me and not the others?” She’d been meeting a group of Iraqi women, talking to them, seeing what they needed and how the U.S. Army could help them. They’d made progress. After nearly four months, the women had trusted her enough to tell her of the dreams they had for their children. They’d been excited about the opening of a new school, and even girls were being educated. They’d been friends. She recalled clearly each face and the hope and excitement.

She took a long steadying breath as the sorrow washed over her. None of the five women had made it. The only reason Kaye had survived was because when the bomb went off she’d been reaching down to pick up her backpack to get the small gifts she had for their children. After the incident, Kaye knew none of the other women in the neighborhood would talk or cooperate with the Americans. She carried the weight of that guilt. That was the main reason she resigned.

The light knock on the door caught her by surprise. “Sis?”

“Come in, Joel.”

He cracked the door. “I wanted to say thanks again for doing this.” He walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “When I saw you standing there in the emergency room, it seemed like an answer to prayer. I didn’t know how I was going to manage Gramps, the ranch and this rodeo at the same time.”

“Caleb was here.”

Joel’s eyes widened. “He’s a guy.”

She cocked her head. “So?”

“Guys aren’t as good as girls at taking care of sick folks.”

“Please, Joel. I’ve been watching men do the cooking and cleaning and nursing for the past twelve years.”

“Okay.” He raised his hands. “But you are an answer to prayer. I’m glad you’re home, Sis.”

Was she an answer to prayer? Hardly, but was this rodeo an answer to prayer? “I’m glad I’m home, too, and Gramps is okay.”

“You’re planning on staying, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know, Joel. I know this is where I should be now. Helping with the rodeo might help me to know what my next step is.”

Joel slipped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “My mind went on overload when Caleb called this morning. I honestly don’t know how we moved the tractor, but we did.” He rubbed his neck. “I hope you don’t mind that Caleb’s here and spent time at the ranch.”

“Why would I mind? I haven’t lived here in a long time.”

“You still own half of this ranch.”

“If you want to be technical, yes, but really, this place is yours. You’re the guy who put his sweat and blood into it and oversaw everything since Mom and Dad died. You and Gramps.”

He nodded. “I’m glad you feel that way. Welcome home, Sis.” He kissed her cheek and walked out of the room.

Turning off the light, she slipped between the sheets. Home. She was really home. The house hadn’t changed much since she’d left, kind of like it was in a male time warp. The only thing new was the sixty-inch TV that took over half the wall in the living room. And that dishwasher. The house sported a twenty-year-old stove, a toaster that belonged to her grandmother, a washer and dryer her mother had bought the year Kaye was born. But that brand-spanking-new TV had all the bells and whistles on it and sported the football and rodeo channels.

Men were so predictable.

And when she’d walked into her bedroom earlier today, there had stood Caleb among all the tokens that the teenage Brenda had thought were important. It had rattled her and touched part of her soul she buried with her divorce. Here was a handsome man who saw her as a woman. Not Captain Kaye, meal-ticket Kaye or poor, pitiful Brenda who’d lost her parents.

Joel may have thought he’d put one over on her by dumping this rodeo in her lap, but she welcomed it. She’d been restless these past few weeks as she finished her equine therapy. Being around horses had put a longing in her heart to go home. But she’d known if she went home, she’d have to make peace with the past she’d successfully avoided until now. The thought frightened her. But maybe working on the rodeo would keep her busy enough to deal with the past or ignore it, which she preferred. And maybe she’d find the road God wanted her to walk for the rest of her life.

Maybe.

Chapter Three

“Yes, Nan, I’ll be in contact. And rest assured Joel definitely isn’t getting off scot-free,” Kaye added, getting up from the formal dining room table. One of the house phones had a cordless handset.

“Well, I hope so. I volunteered only because Joel asked. Don’t get me wrong. I would’ve helped with the rodeo,” Nan hastily added, “but not as one of the board members with all the extra work it requires. But the local ranchers need the help.”

“I will talk to Joel and the other two board members. Why don’t we meet this Saturday morning? Is the Country Kitchen Café downtown still there and in business?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Good. Then let’s meet there and coordinate what needs to be done. If we need to look at the fairgrounds, we can.”

“All right. You’ll notify the others?”

“I will.” Kaye disconnected and set the phone on the table, taking a deep breath.

She’d spent the morning going over the papers scattered across the formal dining room table, putting them in some sort of order. It reminded her of some of the offices in Baghdad. She’d spent the morning writing a list of things that needed to be done. More than once she’d wanted to throw up her hands and walk away from the mess. But as soon as that thought had occurred, the army side of her came roaring back, determined to make order out of the chaos. The ranchers needed the money, and the rodeo would raise those funds.

“How did you let your brother hornswoggle you into doing his job?”

Looking up, she spied her grandfather at the door. “Good question. I must be off my game.”

Gramps walked slowly to the table. When he sat, he adjusted the sling holding his right arm. “I think I’m going to throw this contraption into the trash.”

Standing, she came to his side. “Here, let me do that. You want it looser or tighter?”

“I want it gone.”

Apparently, she was going to pull rank on the old boy. “That’s fine, but I’m sure the doctors told you that it would take longer for that shoulder to recover without it. And if you want to mess with this longer, then ignore the medical advice. I know how annoying it is, because there in San Antonio I refused therapy until one drill sergeant of a head nurse told me to move my sorry bu—posterior out of her ward. She only wanted those patients who were brave enough to heal. I had to do a lot of things I didn’t want to do these past six months to be able to walk again.”

His mouth compressed into a frown. “Going to use guilt on me, are you, girl?”

“If it works, I’m using it.”

She could see her grandfather considering her words. “I like how the army trained you.”

“If I was still in the army, I’d simply give you an order.”

He laughed. “I bet you were a handful.”

“According to Mom, I always was a handful.” The mention of her mom sobered her.

Gramps rested his hand on her arm. “You need to make peace with what happened.”