The Rancher Takes A Family. Judy Christenberry

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      Everyone but John laughed.

      “Thank you for the compliments, but everyone has talents in different areas. Otherwise, life would be very dull.”

      As they filed out of the kitchen, Debra handed each of them his lunch. John was the last to leave and he didn’t even pause. “No, thank you.”

      “You might as well take it since I’ve already made it for you.” She held out the bag.

      He glowered and hesitated. She held her breath, hoping he’d take it. Somehow it seemed important to her, as if his taking the lunch would be an act of approval.

      “I don’t have time for lunch,” he muttered, and walked out of the house.

      Debra stood there, tears forming in her eyes. She hadn’t expected her new life to be easy, had she? Of course not. The best thing she could do was her job. Keep the house clean, cook and take care of Betsy, as well as Andy.

      And not expect anything else. Especially not a husband.

      She put the load of clothes in the dryer and then went upstairs to wake Andy. “Honey, it’s time to get up and come eat breakfast.”

      “I want to stay in bed,” Andy protested. “Eileen let me stay in bed as long as I wanted.”

      Which explained why she’d always had trouble getting him to bed in the evenings, she thought. She’d always assumed her son required less sleep. But, as usual, her mother had chosen the easiest path.

      “There’s no Eileen here, my dear. I’ll put your clothes out while you go wash your face. Get dressed and come to the kitchen. I’ll have breakfast ready.”

      She gently propelled her son into the bathroom. After she laid out his clothes, she went into Betsy’s room. The baby was just stirring, stretching and yawning.

      “Good morning, angel. Did you sleep well? First, I’ll change your diaper, then we’ll have breakfast. After that, you get a bath. If you’re not too modest, I’ll let Andy help. Then we’ll go grocery shopping. How does that sound?”

      As if she approved, Betsy smiled at her. Her whole face lit up and her eyes gleamed. She had the same eyes as her father, sea-blue, only his never sparkled in a smile.

      Debra shrugged her shoulders and changed Betsy’s diaper. Time to get things done, not think about John.

      “How was Betsy this morning?” Bill asked John as they rode out a short time later.

      John jerked back on his reins, startling his horse. Staring at Bill, he frantically searched his brain. “She—she didn’t wake me up! Damn, she’s probably sick or something. I’ve got to go back. I’ll catch up with you!” he called over his shoulder as he urged his horse back toward the barn. All the way, he was telling himself he was the worst daddy in the world to leave his child without being sure she was all right.

      He rode right up to the back door of the house and tied his horse to the limb of a tree nearby.

      Opening the back door, he ran into the kitchen where he heard voices. There he found his baby daughter sitting in a high chair, babbling away and banging her fist on the tray.

      “Just a minute, sweetie,” Debra called over her shoulder. She set a plate of scrambled eggs on the table in front of Andy and gave Betsy a bottle.

      Andy leaned forward and whispered something John couldn’t hear, but he gathered the little boy mentioned his presence because Debra’s gaze flew to him. “John? Is something wrong?”

      As if hearing his name alerted Betsy, she began cooing and waving her arms. “I think your daughter is trying to say hello.”

      John crossed to the high chair. “Hello, Betsy. Did you miss Daddy?” He picked her up and kissed her cheek.

      “Um, she hasn’t had her bath yet, so she may not smell too good. I thought it best to bathe her after breakfast.”

      “That’s fine. But she didn’t wake me up at 4:00 a.m. as usual. I was afraid something was wrong.”

      “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I told you. Solid food stays with the baby longer and helps her to sleep through the night.”

      “That’s really all it took? I didn’t believe— What did you feed her?”

      “Last night I fed her some whipped potatoes.”

      “She might’ve choked on that!” John exclaimed.

      “The spoonfuls were very small, John. I’ve fed a baby before.”

      “Yeah, but—”

      “If you want me to wait until I take her to the doctor, I will. It’s your choice.”

      “No, I guess— When are you going to the grocery store?”

      “After breakfast and Betsy’s bath. I didn’t think he’d open before eight o’clock.”

      “Her baby seat is in the car. Make sure you strap her in.” He settled his daughter in her high chair again. “Be careful. Don’t drive too fast.”

      “No, I won’t.”

      He stared at her. “Am I acting like an idiot?”

      “Just a little bit,” Debra said with a smile. His obvious love for his child was very attractive and made it easy to forgive his difficult behavior toward her.

      “Fine. Just—just get her home safely.”

      “I will, I promise.”

      John remounted and joined his crew, but his worries continued to dominate his thoughts. It was the first time someone else had taken Betsy anywhere.

      Debra was unusually nervous when she drove the Cadillac Escalade to Westlake’s general store. She’d never been in such an expensive vehicle. It seemed foolish to Debra to pay for such a costly truck just to be sure Betsy was safe.

      It appeared the store owner agreed with her. “I couldn’t believe when John ordered this here car for his wife,” Charlie said. “Man, these things cost a fortune.”

      “Yes, so I’ve heard. But I guess it’s water under the bridge.”

      “I don’t know about that. He could sure sell it and pay off some debts.”

      “Would he get a lot for it?”

      “Sure. He’s hardly driven it since his wife died.”

      “Maybe he’ll decide to do that. Thanks for your help with the groceries.”

      “Glad to do it. You’ve got your hands full with two little ones. Did you get everything you need?”

      “I think so. Whatever Mrs. Richey did, she certainly organized and stocked the kitchen well.”

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