A Baby For The Rancher

“Maybe next year you can think about being a helper with the youth group.”

“Me?”

“Sure. I think you’d be perfect.”

How? His attendance at church was sketchy, and he wouldn’t call himself an overly religious man. “I’ll think about it.”

“No decision needed until August, but there will be at least one vacancy at that time.”

Ben left the church, his mind in turmoil with thoughts racing through it. Ever since he’d started having the teenagers at the ranch in the intern program, he’d been looking for other ways to help the young people in the community. He wanted to give them chances he really hadn’t had. And now the pastor was asking him to help with the youth leader. Him! He wasn’t the most likely candidate, and the request had stunned him.

Ben drove through the main gate at Stillwater Ranch, still trying to decide what he should do. He couldn’t accept it if he wasn’t the best person for the job. God, what are You telling me?

After he parked near the house, he went inside to check on Cody before going to the barn. The urge to hold his son swept over him. He’d never thought of himself as father material, but in this case he didn’t have a choice, and he wouldn’t do a job unless he could do it well.

He entered the house through the kitchen and headed toward the front room, where most of the family congregated. The large window afforded a beautiful view of the family’s horses in a pasture, the bluebonnets starting to bloom and poke their heads up through the sea of green grass.

Cody’s giggles floated to Ben. He hurried his step. When he paused at the entrance into the room, he honed in on his son grasping the cushion of the ottoman. Then he began pulling himself up. When he stood, Cody let go of the cushion but didn’t take a step.

“When did he start doing this?” Ben asked Chloe, who sat in the chair with the ottoman.

“I’m as surprised as you are. He’s always holding on when he stands.”

Cody gripped the edge and then with one hand tried to reach for a ball he loved to play with. He wobbled, then plopped back onto the floor. Ben moved closer to watch his son again drag himself to a standing position and try to grab the ball—just out of his reach. Cody stood on his tiptoes and his chubby fingers grazed the red plastic toy. It rolled away. Finally he burst out crying and fell down.

Ben scooped Cody into his arms and rocked him. “You’re okay. Before long you’ll be climbing up on that ottoman.”