The Rancher's Reunion

“Goodness, child. Are you all right?” Rose questioned.

Humiliated, Annie nodded. Oh, this day was starting out fine. Little sister and child, all in one brief fiasco.

“It was nice to meet you, Margaret,” Annie said, hoping to move past the awkward incident.

“My pleasure, Annie. I know we’ll see each other often. My husband, Ed, and I work very closely with Sullivan Ranch.” She turned to Will. “Don’t we, Will?”

Will gave a short nod.

“I’m sorry. What is it you do?” Annie asked.

Margaret gave a bemused smile. “Why, Ed is the CEO of KidCare.”

Annie raised a brow.

“Oh, my. You have been gone for a while.”

“KidCare is an international children’s ministry consulting firm based in Tulsa,” Will answered.

“Basically we connect and support children’s charities, ministries and youth organizations,” Margaret said.

“How does that involve Will?” Annie asked.

“Ed had several great ideas and came to me with a business plan about eighteen months ago,” Will explained. “Sullivan Ranch will be hosting events for KidCare. In return, KidCare backs the operations and promote the events.”

Annie nodded. She imagined the publicity alone was a boost for the ranch. “That sounds really exciting.”

“Oh, it is,” Margaret assured her. “Sullivan Ranch has their first big program coming up. A local denomination is holding a get-together for their junior high kids from across the Tulsa area. They’ll be camping out right here.”

“Where, here?” Annie asked.

“Right here on the ranch,” Will said. “I’ll show you around later. You won’t believe the changes. I’ve added a few cabins on the other side of the peach trees, near the Dearborne property line. There’s a campground, too.” His eyes lit up and his face, normally a mask of composure, seemed almost animated.

“Really?” Annie said. “What a terrific idea. I can’t wait for a tour.”

Margaret wrinkled her nose. “I’ll pass on the camping, but I will be coordinating the catering for the barbecue.”

Rose coughed. “I keep telling you I can handle a little barbecue,” she said, while giving the already sparkling countertops a brisk rubdown with her sponge.

“I’m certain you can, Rose,” Margaret returned. “But there will be about fifty or so campers, and I wouldn’t think of imposing upon your goodwill. Besides, there are health regulations we must adhere to.”

Rose inhaled sharply.

Ouch. Business or not, Margaret didn’t understand who ruled the culinary roost at Sullivan Ranch. Rose O’Shea did, and she’d done it single-handedly for over twenty years.

“What time is that party tonight?” Will asked, interrupting the uneasy silence.

“Seven. Of course you’ll be there early so we can take care of some KidCare business before everyone arrives,” Margaret said. She caught Will’s eye, making it very clear she expected full cooperation.

“Probably won’t make the party early,” Will finally answered Margaret, as he walked to the sink and rinsed his mug. “This is Annie’s first full day back.”

Margaret blinked with surprise. “I see. Then we’ll expect you at seven. Don’t forget a tie.”

“No, ma’am, I won’t.”

There was a strained silence before Margaret spoke again. “Ed has those brochures ready for you. They’re in the car if you’d like to collect the box now.”

Will pursed his lips, then nodded and grabbed his hat.

Margaret adjusted her jacket. When she turned to Annie, control was back in place. “I’ll see you again, Annie. We’ll plan to do lunch once you’re settled.”

Annie smiled, though somehow she just couldn’t see her and Margaret doing lunch.

“Thank you for the coffee, Rose,” Margaret added, following Will.

Rose gave a curt nod.

When they were well out of earshot, Annie rubbed her hands together. “Well, that was fun.”

“Don’t even get me started,” Rose fumed, clearing the table. “That woman thinks she can run Will, the same as she runs her husband.” Rose took a deep breath. “Now, what do you want to eat?”

Annie opened her mouth to suggest pie, but shut it quickly as Rose continued: “And don’t you dare say pie.”

Chapter Three

The old ranch Jeep, a rusty black model minus doors, roared to life. Will shifted gears, guiding the vehicle along the bumpy dirt and gravel road, leaving a wake of dust.

“Sure you’re up to this?” Will asked.

Annie pushed her windswept hair out of her eyes and tucked the strands behind her ears. She slapped a navy ball cap emblazoned with the University of Tulsa logo on her head, and turned in the seat to face him. “Are you kidding? After all that sleep?”

“But your leg?”

She had pushed the seat back as far as possible to accommodate and protect her extended left leg. Will glanced down at the uncovered wound. Her pant leg was rolled up to her knee, and with the dressing off he could see the incision on the back of her calf. It ran horizontal, at least four inches, with a small vertical zigzag. Tight stitches pulled the skin together. Several large abrasions around the area were scabbed and healing.

The bullet, Annie had told him on the phone, penetrated the muscle and then exited, leaving the area a nasty mess. The surgeon opened the area to clean and remove shards of glass along with embedded dirt and gravel from her fall. Now that the infection was under control, the wound appeared to be healing nicely.

So why was it he cringed every time he glanced at her leg? Will did not consider himself fainthearted. He could handle any number of emergencies related to the animals on the ranch, yet he found himself skittish about this. Maybe because it was Annie who’d been hurt. An involuntary shudder went clear through him.

“You’ve seen worse accidents at the rodeo.”

“Not the same thing. Trust me.”

“Well, you’re going to have to deal with it. I hurt my leg. It’s healing. End of story.”

He said nothing to her curt response, noting only that she seemed out of sorts since Margaret Reilly’s visit.

In fact Rose was the same way. Plain cranky.