Home on the Ranch 47 - Tina Radcliffe Read online

  “How will this affect the program tomorrow?” Annie asked, her voice hushed.

  Everything was at stake. Will shook his head, almost afraid to answer, determined to remain calm. “It depends on how long and how hard the storm is.”

  “The worst-case scenario?”

  “Cancellation.” He released the breath he’d been holding. A death knell in his business. “That means a domino of issues—refunded vendors, rescheduling an already tight calendar. And we’ll be eating barbecue at the house until the cows come home.”

  “Oh, boy.” She paused. “Doesn’t insurance cover this?”

  “I can’t afford rain insurance for these small events.”

  “Oh, Will…” Annie said, her voice trailing off.

  Will reined in his fears. “All part of doing business. I just don’t have the luxury of a cushion for lost profits this early in the game.”

  “Then I guess we’d better get some serious prayer in motion.”

  “As opposed to not serious prayer?”

  “Hey, Sullivan. This isn’t a joke.” She frowned, obviously disappointed in his response. “I can’t even count the number of times over the past two years when all I had was prayer to carry me through. I learned to make prayer my first line of defense, not my last.”

  “Sorry, Annie.” He followed her into the kitchen, where she dropped her parcels. “I’m ashamed to say I’ve been a cynic when it comes to prayer.”

  “Well, then you’re long overdue for a change of heart.”

  Irritation remained evident as she plopped down into a chair and rummaged in her bags.

  “What are you looking for?” he asked.

  With a sigh of satisfaction, she finally pulled a candy bar out of a tissue-stuffed bag.

  “I have been thinking about this for two years.”

  Will glanced at the plain milk chocolate, his personal favorite, as Annie slowly peeled back first the paper and then the foil and stared at the smooth bar.

  “No chocolate in Kenya?”

  “Yes, I could have bought it in Mombasa, but then I’d feel I had to share it with the children at the clinic or shove it all in my mouth before we got back to camp.”

  “I can see you doing that.”

  “Don’t be silly. Chocolate is to be savored, piece by piece.”

  “Really?”

  “Will, you have no idea what an extreme privilege this represents. An entire bar, all my own.”

  “So you aren’t going to share.”

  “Not my bar.” She reached into the bag and pulled out another, handing it to him, then carefully bit off a piece of her own. Moments passed before she spoke. “This chocolate is symbolic.”

  “What is this? The parable of the chocolate bar?”

  Her lips quirked upward. “Not quite.”

  “Okay, you’ve got me now. Tell me about the symbolism of chocolate.”

  “This represents wants.” She held up the rest of the bar. “A few precious moments.” She snapped her finger. “Gone. There’s barely enough nutritional value here to sustain a human.”

  “You said you had been thinking about one for two years.”

  “Oh, not that way. It took the attack in Kenya to make me realize how many wants I used to have. I took my life for granted.”

  Will tore open his chocolate and bit off a large corner. He wasn’t into savoring.

  “I sound silly,” she finally said.

  “Not at all. What you experienced in Kenya was life changing. I appreciate that.”

  “Do you? Then you’re probably the only one who does.”

  “Yeah, well, I know what it’s like. You get the curse with the blessing. Sometimes you aren’t sure which is which. But the experience changes you. Forever.”

  She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “That’s it exactly. You can never go back to the person you used to be.”

  “That person doesn’t exist anymore.” He stared out the window at the rain.

  Were his dreams being washed away with the storm?

  Annie sighed. “I really am tired. I’m going to put these things away and rest and pray about that weather.”

  They reached for the bags at the same time.

  “I’ve got them,” she said. “You hauled them all over Woodland Hills Mall. I think I can handle down the hall.”

  “I’m going to check messages.”

  A few moments later Annie called out, “I heard a car door slam. Ellen must be back.”

  “Good, because all of Rose’s friends have been calling for an update.” The phone began to ring as he spoke. “See what I mean?”

  “Want me to grab that?”

  “I’m good,” he said.

  Annie’s door closed as he picked up the portable. “Sullivan Ranch.”

  “This is James Morrow, calling for Anne Harris.”

  “Annie?”

  “Yes. I’m one of the field supervisors from her mission program.”

  Will released a breath, not wanting to guess what was coming next. He strolled into the living room and out of earshot.

  “This is Sullivan Ranch, correct?”

  “Yeah, you got the right place.”

  “Is Anne Harris available?”

  “Not right now. She’s resting.”

  “How is she? Everyone is asking about her.”

  “She’s doing as well as can be expected, considering she survived a terrorist attack.”

  There was a pause from the caller. “May I leave a message?”

  “Why don’t you try again, maybe next week?” Will clenched his jaw. Maybe next year. He knew his anger was misplaced, but the thought of Annie leaving again was making him irrational.

  He wasn’t ready for her to leave. She’d barely just gotten back.

  “Next week?”

  “Things are pretty busy here now.”

  “Could you tell her I called? It’s important. We’ve got all her paperwork for the Mexico trip ready and on hold until she’s released from her doctor.”

  Will’s gut took a direct hit, the air whooshing from his lungs. “What?”

  “Just have her call me. She has my number.”

  “You know, your best bet is to call back. Have a good day, Mr. Morrow.” Will pressed the disconnect button.

  He paced across the living room. Could things get any worse? First the rain, now this. He shook his head; he was ill-prepared for either one.

  Will slammed a fist against his palm. Annie’s words rang in his ears. You’re long overdue for a change of heart. What did he need to do to make his prayers heard? “Lord,” he said aloud, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. We’ve got to talk.”

  Chapter Six

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out he had a problem. For one, there were way too many women in his life. That alone was enough to cause any man a severe headache. Then there was the weather.

  Rain, rain and more rain.

  As the Jeep moved over the bumpy terrain, a drip of water from the soggy canvas roof slipped through a hole and landed with a small splash on Will’s face. He swiped at the moisture with the back of his hand.

  Things might have fared better had Ed Reilly been around to support him. Will now faced the first big KidCare-sponsored event with Margaret as diva-in-charge, Ellen giving suggestions from the house, and Rose calling in orders from her hospital bed. Annie appeared to be the only normalcy in his life at the moment.

  If he wasn’t nervous, he ought to be.

  Sitting in the Jeep, looking out at the soaked campground, he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  A glance at the sky confirmed his worst fears. Dark clouds still hovered overhead. Should he cancel now or wait until later in the day? What would Ed do?

  He stepped out of the vehicle and right into the middle of a large puddle. Pulling his booted foot out, he shook the mud off. “Lord, I need a whole lot of patience today.”

  Will tried to unlatch the wooden gate, but his fingers refused to cooperate.

  His h
and trembled.

  He stopped and leaned on the gate, breathing slowly, eyes closed. His mind immediately conjured up the word.

  Huntington’s.

  A thread of panic tore through him as he examined his hand, holding the extremity up, using the other hand to steady himself at the wrist. The trembling stopped.

  Stop jumping to conclusions.

  A hastily eaten piece of toast was breakfast before taking Annie to the hospital at 6:00 a.m. And how much coffee had he downed today? Way too much and it wasn’t even noon. Caffeine overload, pure and simple.

  Time to quit looking for trouble in other places.

  Will strode back to the Jeep and opened the glove box where there was a stash of nutrition bars. He pulled one out and grabbed a bottle of water from the backseat.

  Eating the bar and washing it down, he rested on the bumper of his vehicle for a moment as the rain dripped around him.

  Too much caffeine. That was all.

  His cell phone rang and he pulled the device from his jacket pocket. “Hello.”

  “Hey, can you use some help?”

  He recognized Annie’s voice and relaxed. “Where are you?”

  “At the house.”

  “How’d you get back from the hospital?”

  “Ellen. After you left, I met with the therapist. About nine o’clock, friends from Rose’s bridge club showed up. When they decided they were going to hang out with her most of the day, Ellen and I came back to town. Think you can use a sidekick with a limp?”

  “I appreciate the offer, Annie, but there’s not much to be done.”

  “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

  His jaw clenched. “This isn’t giving up. Simply bowing to Mother Nature.”

  “Canceling?”

  “It’s not like I want to. Hang on. I’ll bring the Jeep to the house.”

  When he pulled up she was standing under the eaves of the porch waiting. Dressed in old jeans and a hooded sweatshirt that concealed her hair, she played with one of the barn cats who’d taken cover on the porch.

  He tooted the horn, and she stepped down and slid into the Jeep.

  “Where’s your cane?” he asked.

  “I’m going without. I have an Ace bandage on the leg for support and I’m feeling good,” she barked.

  “You sound real good,” he said, noting her sharp tone.

  “It’s barely sprinkling.” Her dark eyes pleaded as she spoke.

  “Sprinkling doesn’t dry up the ground.”

  “What about hay?”

  “No matter how much hay I put down, the fact is, it is still raining.”

  “Sprinkling.”

  “Let’s drive around the ranch and take a look.”

  “So what was the plan? I mean, if you weren’t going to cancel.”

  “If it wasn’t raining, the night would have started with a little meet and greet. Catered barbecue. A three-piece band for praise and worship and a few scheduled speakers.”

  “What time?”

  “Around six-thirty. Done about ten, ten-thirty.”

  “Then what?”

  He narrowed his eyes as he guided the Jeep over the muddy trail. “Then the group would camp out, using the pup tents and the cabins. They leave in the morning after a short service.”

  “How were you getting them out here from the road?”

  “I’ve got the two wagons used for hayrides set up with tractors pulling them. The wagons hold about twenty-five to thirty kids each. Moves at a slow clip, but that’s a plus on the safety side.”

  Annie glanced at her watch. “What time is sunset?”

  “Around seven-thirty. I had mercury lights installed.” He stopped the Jeep and pointed to the lights. “See?”

  “You are prepared.”

  “Hey, I was a kid once. When this was in the planning stages, I sat down and tried to think of all the ways I could get into trouble. That headed off a whole lot of problems right off the bat.”

  Suddenly her laughter rang out, brightening even the dark day.

  “What’s so funny about that?”

  “You as a kid.” Another laugh escaped. “Bet you were the most serious kid in your class.”

  “I was focused.”

  Annie smiled, staring out the window.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “I’m still thinking about you as a kid.”

  He shook his head.

  “Did you ever wish you had a brother or a sister?”

  “Sure. How about you?”

  “I always wished for a baby sister.” She paused, pensive and faraway for a moment. “But then again, I suppose, if I had a sister, I’d want a brother.” A quick grin touched her mouth as she turned toward him. “Do you ever wonder about your mom?”

  “What do you mean?” He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the topic, yet knowing that if there was anyone on earth who understood, it was Annie.

  “I mean, do you wonder where she is? Why she left?”

  Will stiffened. “She left. I don’t need to explore the reasons.”

  “That’s so harsh,” Annie said, amazement evident on her face.

  “Harsh? How so?” He took a calming breath through pursed lips. “The going got tough and she took off. Don’t tell me you waste time wondering about your mother.”

  “I do wonder. I wonder how a woman could walk away. How she could put her needs before that of her child. I think about it all the time,” Annie said, sounding perplexed.

  Will shook his head. No, he’d decided long ago not to waste time wondering. The facts were plain and simple. His father was handed a death sentence, and his mother walked away when they all needed her most.

  “Tell me you never think about whether or not you have other brothers and sisters?” Annie persisted.

  “Nope.” He shook his head. That was a road he did not go down.

  She twisted her face in a frown, obviously dissatisfied with his answer.

  “Look, Annie, I don’t think it’s good to dwell on maybes. I’d go crazy if I did that. So would you.” He reached over and touched her shoulder. “We have to be content with the hand life dealt us.”

  Her steady gaze met his and she looked at him hard. “You really believe that?”

  “I do.”

  The slight smile she gave him said she was not convinced but she’d let the subject drop for now.

  He put the vehicle in Reverse and slowly moved toward the tall doors of one of two barns on the ranch. Sliding into Neutral, he pulled up the parking brake.

  Annie unbuckled her seat belt. “How many kids did you say you were expecting?”

  “The last head count was about sixty.”

  “Sixty?” She grinned, then tossed back the hood of her sweatshirt as she stepped out of the Jeep. “Sixty?”

  “Where are you going? It’s raining.”

  “Barely.” She moved to the front of the barn.

  Will got out of the Jeep. “Still very wet out here. And every hour it barely rains, the ground gets wetter.”

  “The cabins are dry.”

  “Yeah, but that’s about all. I’ve still got a band and caterers I don’t want to electrocute.”

  “Yes. Electrocution is so messy.”

  He glared.

  “Come on, Will. We can’t give up. Think.”

  “We?” he asked.

  “Yes, we. If you fail, Sullivan Ranch fails and I care too much about both of you to let that happen.”

  Will looked at the ground, humbled by her words.

  “Is the barn watertight?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Got a new roof a few months ago. I’m storing the tractors and the wagons we were going to use tonight, riding lawn mowers, tools, along with some old farm equipment.”

  “So why can’t we use the barn? It’s big enough. Why, you could hold a wedding in there.”

  “I just told you. It’s full of old farm equip—”

  “I heard you. Let’s empty
the barn.”

  “Annie, that’ll take hours.”

  “We have hours.”

  “How are you and I going to haul the contents of that barn by ourselves?”

  “We’ll toss the stuff on the wagons and move everything to—what about the other barn?”

  “That one isn’t watertight.”

  “So we’ll cover everything with tarps.”

  “You can’t do that kind of work.”

  “I’ve built huts in Kenya. I can do this.”

  “You weren’t recovering from a gunshot wound then.”

  “Will, I know my limitations,” she said. “You’ll have to trust me.”

  He stared at her and then at the barn. Hope like a tiny spark began to grow inside him until he felt its warmth. Could they make this work?

  Maybe it was time he started trusting, asking for help when needed. Perhaps that realization alone was the answer to those prayers she spoke of. Finally, he pulled out his cell.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m calling Margaret to tell her we’re still on. Then I guess I better call Chris to get him out here after he stops by the hardware store for tarps, lights and electrical cords.”

  Annie’s eyes lit up. She grinned and launched herself at Will. “Way to go, cowboy.”

  “Whoa there.” Laughing, he caught her in his arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be hugging Annie in the rain. “Better save your energy,” he said. “We’ve got a whole lot of work to do.”

  Somehow it didn’t seem like work when you liked what you were doing, when you had a purpose. Annie understood why Will labored such long hours on the ranch, day after day. He loved what he did. There was satisfaction in working hard. It was really no different than nursing.

  After shaking straw from her clothes, she stripped off her dirty jeans and stepped in the shower. Despite working on her feet for hours, she was energized. In fact, she felt better than she had since working in Kenya. Useful and productive again.

  Needed.

  Chris brought a buddy with him, and together the four of them emptied the barn, swept out the floor and laid clean hay where necessary. Then they set up lighting using the ranch’s cherry picker.

  Annie sneezed. Her allergies seemed to be the only part of her that was balking at the moment.