Her Cowboy's Twin Blessings. Patricia Johns

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       Chapter Three

      Mr. Vern, as it turned out, was perfectly happy to have Ember stay with him if she was helping out his ranch manager. Those babies had sunk into his heart, too, it seemed.

      “They need loving,” Mr. Vern said. “That’s all. Just loving. But there’s two of them, and Casey’s got a big job. So I think we all appreciate you being willing to snuggle some babies. It’ll take a village with those boys.”

      A village was the precise thing she hadn’t had on her side when she’d been pregnant with her son. If there’d been a village for her, she might have been able to keep her little boy, but she didn’t have any support. When she’d told her father about her pregnancy, he’d recommended an abortion, but said that if she insisted on having the baby, she’d have to give it up for adoption. He wasn’t interested in supporting her for the long term. He’d agreed to pay for her education, but his one stipulation to his support had been that she act like a Reed and not embarrass the family. Raising a baby on her own without a husband apparently violated that clause. Set aside the fact that she’d been fathered in an affair...but Alistair was the one with the money and she wasn’t in a position to argue with him about his morals. It had seemed hopeless then...

      Ember lay between crisp sheets that night, listening to the soft sounds of a strange house, and she lifted her heart in prayer. She’d been so sure when she’d come out here—confident, excited. But somehow, she’d gone from completely in control to feeling entirely out of her depth.

      Lord, I need Your help, she prayed. I don’t know how I got myself into this, but here I am...

      Only God knew how she’d been struggling with memories of her own son lately. She’d naively thought that giving him up would allow her to move forward with her life. And in some ways, she had, but lately, memories of that traumatic day were coming back like punches to the gut. So she lay in bed not asking for God to help her sort out her emotions right now, because she knew better than to ask for that! A woman didn’t hop over her feelings; she waded through them. And wading would have to wait until she was finished with this task at hand. As ironic as it was for a therapist, she wanted God to help her put a lid on her feelings. For now, at least.

      Ember slept remarkably well that night. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the adventures of her day, but she didn’t even stir until she awoke to the distant aroma of brewing coffee. Ember rubbed a hand over her face and reached for her watch, checking the time. It was just after six, and outside, the sky was awash in pink. She pushed back the covers and reached for her clothes. She’d come with a bag packed and had intended to stay in a local hotel for a few days, so she had a few necessities with her. Ten minutes later, she’d washed up, put on a little makeup and made herself presentable before leaving the bedroom for the kitchen.

      Mr. Vern stood in front of the stove, a bowl of whisked eggs in one hand as he flung a pat of butter into a sizzling pan.

      “Good morning,” he said without turning.

      “Good morning.” She headed for the coffeepot. There were two mugs waiting, and she filled one. “Is this for me?”

      “Sure is,” Mr. Vern said. “I’m just whipping up some eggs now, too.”

      “You’re up early,” she said.

      “I’ve already been out to check on some cattle,” he said with a low laugh. “I saw Casey down there, and he said to tell you that he’s got a ride planned toward Milk River today. He thought you might be interested.”

      “Oh!” Ember brightened. “Yes, I am.”

      “He says he’s planning on leaving about seven,” Mr. Vern said. “You’ll want to eat hearty before then. Have you ridden before?”

      “No,” she confessed.

      “Hmm.” Mr. Vern glanced back at her, a look in his eye like he was sizing her up. “It’s a good way to take a look at the land, but...”

      “I’ll be fine,” she reassured him. “I’m assuming I’m in good hands with Casey Courtright?”

      “The best.” Mr. Vern poured the egg mixture into the pan. “In fact, you’d do well to keep him on, Miss Reed. He knows this land better than I do at this point.”

      “He’s already said that he’s not interested in working for me,” she admitted.

      “Has he now?” Ember couldn’t see the older man’s face, but his tone sounded displeased. “That’s just pride. Give him time.”

      Time for what? She didn’t want to be saddled down with an employee who didn’t want to be here. But this wasn’t the time to discuss that.

      After breakfast, Mr. Vern drove her down the sloping gravel road, his radio playing a jangly gospel tune. Mr. Vern wore a dusty trucker’s hat, and he chewed on a toothpick as he drove.

      “So left, we’ve got the cattle barns—you can see them, right? The big modern silver ones. Those are used for some calving, injured animals and the like. For the most part, the cattle spend their days in the field. I’ll bring you down there later if Casey hasn’t got the time.”

      The older man followed the road right, heading away from the cattle barns and toward that picturesque red barn bathed in golden morning sunlight.

      “There’s four hundred acres in total—that includes the forest as well as the pasture. I know you’re not interested in raising cattle, but the property includes about two hundred head that we’ve raised for market. So you’d have at least one market run. Casey would be able to fill you in on the finer details there, of course.”

      “Where are we going?” Ember asked.

      “To the horse barn,” Mr. Vern said. “We’ve got twenty-two horses at present. Our ranch hands use them when they check on herds and that sort of thing. Now, there are three horses that belong to Casey personally, and another two that I’m not willing to part with. But the other seventeen are included in the sale.”

      “Are they good for trail rides?” she asked.

      “About five are gentle enough for newbies, but the others need a more experienced hand,” he admitted. “I can sell off the others first, if you want. Just to save you the trouble later.”

      “We’d have to talk about that,” she agreed with a nod.

      “Some ranches like to use quads for checking the herd, but I’ve СКАЧАТЬ