Home to Crossroads Ranch

“That’s not natural,” he said with a chuckle. “Just wait till they get rested up.”

“Hopefully, social services will find another placement for them by then. I’m not exactly set up for infants.” She turned toward the hallway. “The other children are back here. But please be very gentle with them. They’re terrified of you.”

“I’m sorry about that, but I have to do my job.”

“I know. Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Officer Wagner was young, fresh-faced and genuinely kind, but that had never mattered to the kids. He wore a uniform and that was enough to set Joshua and Emma back for a week. Didn’t Kathy Underkircher understand that the real victims of her animosity were innocent children? Even if she knew, would she care?

Bitterness gathered like acid on Rainy’s tongue. She’d prayed about the woman, asking the Lord to deal with Kathy’s hard heart. And now this. Again. On the worst day possible. In front of Nate.

Thanks a lot, Lord.

Whipping around, she led Officer Wagner through the house and pushed open the door to her bedroom. Her embarrassment at having two men see her unmade bed and pink pajamas was quickly forgotten. Nate Del Rio perched on the edge of her desk chair with Emma clinging to his knee like a blond wood tick. The boys were huddled next to his sides like baby chicks against a hen. In ordinary circumstances, the comparison of the hunky cowboy with a hen would have been amusing. Today, the sight was endearing.

“Everything okay in here?” she asked, her gaze searching each of the children’s faces.

Will nodded solemnly. Joshua, bless his heart, trembled like an earthquake but followed his brother’s example. Rainy’s heart ached for the little guy. Emma’s wide, troubled eyes were glued to the policeman.

“As you can see, Officer,” Nate said, dropping a hand onto each of the boys’ shoulders, “the kids are fine.”

“Is this all of them?”

Katie chose that moment to answer for herself. She screamed.

Chapter Three

Nate didn’t sleep a wink that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Rainy Jernagen and her big-eyed foster kids. Worse, he felt the pressing weight of responsibility, worrying about them. None of which made any sense, other than he’d agreed to the foolish request to let Rainy bring the children to the ranch today. What had he been thinking?

Kids made him nervous. Not that he didn’t like them, but he sure didn’t want them running around the ranch getting into danger. Town kids wouldn’t know the first thing about staying safe on a ranch. He’d known the dangers and still hadn’t been able to avoid a tragedy.

The memory slapped him a good one, and following hot on its heels was the other memory. The one that kept him humble and praying for forgiveness.

He stalked through the kitchen toward the bubbling silver coffeemaker. His grandpa sat at the worn wooden table, glasses on the end of his nose, sipping stout black coffee and reading the Bible. As always, the sight touched a place deep inside Nate. Ernie Del Rio had come to the Lord after the tragedy that had nearly broken their family, and Grandpop’s witness had eventually led his oldest grandson to Christ. Nate would be forever grateful to his grandfather for loving him enough to lead the way. Sadly, neither his brother nor his sister displayed the least bit of interest in changing their ways.

As Nate’s boots tapped across the tile, Grandpop peered at him over the top of his half-rims. “Looking rough, boy. You going to church?”

“Lousy night.”

The old man poked a thick finger onto the printed page. “Says right here that the Lord gives His beloved sleep.”

“Guess I’m not His beloved then.” The truth was he’d long suspected he was low on God’s list of favorites. But he understood and didn’t hold it against the Lord. He had a lot to make up before God could be pleased with him, but he was working at it.

He dumped two spoons of sugar into his coffee, sipped and grimaced. “Pop, you make the worst coffee on earth.”

His grandfather didn’t take the grumbling to heart. “Don’t drink it then.”

They’d had this conversation at least once a week since Pop moved in with him three years ago. Grandma’s passing had left the older man at a loss, and Nate needed help on the ranch. They’d blended their lives amicably—two old bachelors set in their ways, raising cows.

“Janine called a bit ago. I wrote the number on the pad.”

“What now?” His sister was like a leech, sucking the blood out of him, always needy. He was the go-to man in the family, the only functional member of a dysfunctional mess. At least, he considered himself functional. He had a steady job and a permanent home, which was more than he could say for Janine and Blake most of the time.

He reached for the phone number, but Pop’s voice stopped him. “Sit down and drink your coffee first. You don’t have to jump every time she hollers.”

Nate dialed anyway. Pop didn’t understand. No one did.

Every time one of his siblings called, he got this sick pull of dread and fear in the pit of his stomach. What if…

“Janine? What’s wrong?” There was always something wrong. She didn’t call otherwise. “I thought you and Sal worked everything out yesterday.”

“We did, Nate. I promise. Sal’s being good as gold.”

Nate grimaced. Sal was a beer-guzzling lout who came and went at will, leaving Janine and their baby to fend for themselves.

“So what’s up?”

“Well, you see.” She paused and he heard a shaky influx of breath. “Now don’t get mad, Nate.”

Nate braced one hand against the kitchen cabinet and stared out the window over the sink. Fat black calves grazed on two hundred acres of quickly greening Bermuda grass. His cows, his grass, his hard work, soon to be bigger and better if all went well.

“Just tell me what you want, Janine.”

The whining commenced. “See? You’re already getting mad. I can’t help that I’m the unluckiest person in the world. You just don’t understand what it’s like to be in my shoes. You’ve got it made out there on your ranch. You’ve always had it made.”

Nate didn’t remind her of what they both knew. He’d started this ranch on a loan and a prayer, working sixteen-hour days for a long time. Since then, he’d leased an adjacent eight hundred acres with an option to buy. If he could save enough money before the lease ran out, the land would be his and he’d finally feel solvent as a rancher. But that was a big if, and Janine’s constant requests for money didn’t help him save any extra.

“My car broke down, and Bailey’s out of diapers and milk.”

Trying to hold his temper, Nate stalked to the table for his now-cooled coffee, grimacing as he drained the cup.

“Nate?” His name trembled from her lips.

“I gave you money yesterday.” The silence told him everything. He flashed a glance at Pop but got no help from that corner. “Sal bought booze with it, didn’t he?”

“Don’t get mad. We paid the rent like you said, but everyone deserves to have fun sometimes. We went out for a little while to celebrate getting back together. You aren’t married. You don’t have kids. You can’t possibly understand how hard it is.” His sister’s whine grew persuasive. “Anyway, Sal promised to look for a job tomorrow. They’re hiring over at Wilson’s Manufacturing.”

Right. If Sal sobered up. Nate ground his back teeth together. “How much do you need?”

Pop made a rude noise and shook his head. Nate turned back toward the window. How he dealt with his sister’s problems was his business, whether his grandfather approved or not. Times like this he wished for a cordless phone and a little privacy.

“Not much,” Janine was saying. “A few hundred until Sal gets his first check.”

Considering Sal was not likely to get a job, much less a check, any funds Nate dumped in Janine’s pocket were a gift. Extortion, really. She knew he worried about her.

“I’ll put a check in the mail in the morning.”

Pop slapped his Bible shut. Nate didn’t bother to look at the older man, knowing he’d see a glower of disapproval.