Hope for Tomorrow

by Elizabeth Maddrey

  “Doesn’t he do computer security? Seems to me he might have gotten better at secret keeping for professional purposes.” It was an attempt to lighten the mood and erase the storm clouds that crowded her features.

  She offered a weak smile. “That’s work. I’m his baby sister. Knowing Cy, he’s spent half of his time since I talked to him researching symptoms and the other half blanketing the world with email asking for help.”

  “Did you ask him not to?”

  “No.” Skye sighed. “Maybe he’ll have more luck than I have so far.”

  “Luck’s not the only way to figure something out.” It was tricky ground now. Morgan wasn’t one to do a lot of talking about his faith. Those conversations always seemed to end up awkward. Or preachy.

  “It’s a figure of speech. I don’t actually believe in luck. Not anymore. Dad . . . that’s his go-to. I guess childhood habits die hard.”

  “So you’re praying about it?”

  “For all the good it does.”

  Words battered against one another in his mind. There was a lot he could say in response—all the same platitudes he’d been given at one point or another—but why? Platitudes weren’t helpful. And they only seemed to make the person speaking feel better. “Can I pray for you, too?”

  She glanced up at him, her brows knit. “Why would you? You don’t know me.”

  “It feels like I do.” He shrugged and fought the stab of pain that her words caused. She wasn’t wrong, but it was startling to realize she apparently didn’t feel any of the interest and attraction he did. “Anyway, I pray for people I don’t know all the time.”

  Skye didn’t respond.

  They walked the rest of the way in silence. Morgan let his mind wander, idly absorbing the sounds of the forest. When the trees thinned and they neared the meadow, he could see the train of horses making their way back toward the stable. He glanced over at Skye. She still looked like she was about to pass out, but it was no different than she’d looked the entire time, so she was probably fine.

  “You mind if I leave you here? I should head on over to help with the horses.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “I thought—yeah, that’s fine. Thanks for the hike.”

  He nodded. “My pleasure.”

  Morgan lengthened his stride and set off. Tommy might end up having to help people dismount, but Morgan would be back in time to take over the rest. Maybe the familiar task of cleaning the tack and rubbing down the horses would give him a chance to organize his cluttered thoughts.

  Skye Hewitt was an intriguing puzzle. But maybe she wasn’t his to solve.

  7

  Skye brushed at the simple skirt she’d worn to church and stood for the benediction song. Her grandparents’ church wasn’t like the one she’d attended on the East Coast. That had been somber and traditional, with hymns and an organ and people dressed up in their Sunday best. It had been the first time she’d really understood that phrase, and there had been something about taking the time to put a little extra oomph into her appearance that had made church special.

  But this was nice, too.

  The majority of the folks sitting in the rows of chairs were wearing jeans. There were dress pants here and there, but denim was hands down the fabric choice of the day. Most of it was clean and dark, but there were a few who looked like they’d finished at a barn and hopped directly into a truck to come worship.

  Maybe they had.

  Why did it matter to her?

  Skye glanced sideways at her brother. Cyan held hands with Maria who, in turn, had her arm around Calvin. They already looked like a family.

  She looked away.

  Betsy reached over and caught her hand, giving it a squeeze. She leaned her head close and whispered, “You okay?”

  Skye nodded and squeezed her grandmother’s hand back.

  The song came to a close and the worship leader wished them a good day before the music switched to a recording of a popular tune from the Christian radio station.

  “What’d you think?” Cyan turned, grinning, to Skye.

  “It’s different than where I’ve been going. But I like it.”

  “Different can be good. How are you feeling?”

  She frowned. It wasn’t that she expected him not to ask, but she didn’t want it to be the main focus of every interaction they had. She shrugged. “Okay.”

  He studied her.

  “What?”

  Maria poked her head around Cyan and rolled her eyes. “He’s like a mother hen when he gets something in his head. Just ignore him. I have a roast in the oven at the main house and it’s probably just about ready. We should get home so it doesn’t burn. Do you want to ride with us?”

  “Thanks, I’ll stick with Wayne and Betsy. I don’t imagine they’ll miss out on a roast.”

  Cyan chuckled. “Wayne won’t, that’s for sure. We’ll see you at home.”

  Home. Could the ranch be home for her like it was Cyan? That was an interesting thought.

  “. . . my granddaughter, Skye.”

  Skye turned when she heard her name and smile politely at the man Betsy was talking to.

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “Thanks. You, too.” Had her grandmother said the man’s name? She hadn’t been paying attention. Thankfully, he seemed content to shake her hand and move on out the aisle.

  “If you wanted to avoid the gauntlet, you probably should have snuck out with Cyan and Maria.” Betsy grinned. “But I’ll try to keep it from being too much.”

  Skye collected her Bible and purse and followed in the wake of her grandparents. She liked meeting people. It was unlikely she’d remember their names right away, but that was true of almost everyone, wasn’t it? Still, it was interesting to follow along, stopping where her grandparents wanted to have more of a chat than a drive-by wave and wink. Wayne was the master of the wave and wink—it was something to behold.

  When they reached Wayne’s truck and Skye had climbed in the back seat, she sighed.

  “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” Betsy turned to look at her. “You’re pale.”

  “I’m always pale. I’m fine.” The reality was, her heart didn’t feel like it was trying to pound its way out of her chest today, nor was there nausea banging at the back of her throat. Today was a good day, so far. “Maria said she made a roast. Is that something different than I’m picturing because we’re in New Mexico?”

  Wayne laughed. “Probably not. Although there’ll be green chiles somewhere. Maybe on the side, since it’s your first Sunday with us and she’s not sure how you’ll do with them.”

  “Yum.” Cyan had introduced her to his new favorite sandwich on Thursday, and green chile featured prominently in it. Skye was already a fan. “Does everyone join you for lunch on Sundays?”

  “Depends.” Wayne aimed the truck out of the church parking lot. “Joaquin’s out of town this weekend. He’s determined to set up some kind of herd on the ranch, so he heads out to stock shows when he can swing it.”

  “You’re not a fan of the idea?”

  “Oh, I don’t mind. Cattle are a lot of work—all animals are—but if Joaquin wants to take it on, that’s fine. Sheep might be interesting. We never dabbled in sheep and there are enough artists in Taos and the surrounding area that I imagine we could find people who’d be interested in the wool for fiber.”

  Betsy made a quiet mmm. “That’s a good point. You should mention it to him before he gets too set on the idea of cows.”

  “I think my sister Indigo raises sheep. She’s out in Arizona—I could shoot her a text and ask if you wanted. Get some info.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. Joaquin’s always up for talking to people who are already involved in something.” Betsy glanced over at Wayne.

  “I’ll text him when we get home and plant the seed.” Wayne’s gaze flicked up to the rearview mirror and connected with Skye’s. “Morgan usually makes it to lunch. Tommy, too.”

  Skye forced a bright smile. “Great.”<
br />
  Wayne’s eyes danced with laughter before he returned his focus to the road ahead of them.

  Skye turned to look out the window. Morgan. There was a quiver in her belly at the thought of seeing him again. And that was stupid. He’d taken off after their hike like he was being chased by zombies, so there was obviously no way he felt even a hint of the attraction she felt for him.

  Who would want to take on someone like her right now anyway? Maybe if—no, when—they figured out what was going on, she’d be in a place to start looking for a boyfriend. Maybe by then she’d have an idea what it was like to date as a believer. She hadn’t had a serious relationship in over three years, and all the relationships she’d had prior to that weren’t exactly what anyone would consider God-honoring.

  Why was she even thinking about that? It wasn’t like Morgan was interested in her.

  It wasn’t like she wanted Morgan to be interested in her.

  They turned onto the ranch driveway and it was almost as if Skye let out a breath. Everything in her settled from turmoil she hadn’t realized she felt. Was this what coming home felt like?

  “It’s a special place, isn’t it?” Betsy had swiveled in her seat and was watching Skye. “I don’t know that I could ever leave. We talked about it when your dad was younger—thought maybe a broader sphere would help him find whatever it was he was looking for. Help him settle. Maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

  Skye frowned at the wistfulness in Betsy’s voice. “I don’t think it would have. Dad makes up his mind and that’s it. There’s no budging him.”

  Betsy nodded. “That sounds like him.”

  Still, how could her dad have given up on a place like Hope Ranch? Skye hadn’t been here long, but she already didn’t want to leave.

  Her phone buzzed and she fished it out of her pocket. She smiled slightly and swiped to answer the call. “Hey, Royal.”

  “Yo. I’ll be there tomorrow. That work? You’re still on to do the swab thing?”

  “Yeah, sure. Can you stay a while?”

  “We’ll see. I have some stuff in the pipe, but I can hang until the results come in, I guess. You really think the grandparents won’t mind?”

  “They’re right here, why don’t you ask?” Skye poked the speaker button on her phone. “You’re on speaker. Betsy? It’s Royal.”

  “Hi, Royal, it’s so nice to get a chance to talk to you.”

  Wayne pulled the truck into a spot in front of the house and shifted into park before cutting off the engine. “Hello there, Royal.”

  “Hi. Um. This feels awkward.” Royal cleared his throat. “So I was talking to Skye last week and she’s agreed to help me with one of my sponsors. Would it be okay if I showed up and hung for a bit at the ranch?”

  Betsy grinned. “Oh, honey, of course. The more the merrier. We have a ton of room and you’re welcome for as long as you can stay.”

  Wayne leaned closer to the phone that Skye held between the front seats of the truck. “Looking forward to it. When will you come?”

  “Tomorrow too soon?”

  Wayne laughed. “Not at all. Need a ride from the airport?”

  “I think I’ll rent something. I like having my own wheels.”

  “It’s true. Even when he lived in New York City he had a car. It’s ridiculous.” Skye shook her head.

  “Hey, don’t knock it.” Royal chuckled. “See you guys tomorrow.”

  Skye clicked off the phone. “Look at that. Another grandchild. Only one more and you’ll have met us all.”

  Betsy grinned and pushed open her door. “Let’s go see if Maria needs any help, Wayne.”

  Wayne followed along behind Betsy leaving Skye standing in front of the house. A wave of dizziness hit her and she reached out to steady herself on the front of the truck.

  “You all right?” Morgan jogged over, stopping within arm’s reach of Skye.

  Great. Just great. The man seemed to always be around when she was at her worst. She closed her eyes as nausea clawed at her throat.

  “Skye?”

  She held up a hand and pressed her lips together praying for her stomach to settle. When she was reasonably sure she wasn’t going to puke on his shoes, she nodded. “I’m good.”

  Morgan cocked his head to the side, his gaze still on her.

  “Seriously. I think maybe I got a little car sick coming up from town.” That was unlikely, but maybe it’d get him off her case. If she knew what was going on, she’d be more than happy to share it with everyone. Skye craved answers like little kids wanted ice cream in the summer. But no doctors had any useful suggestions, and she didn’t even want to guess how badly her insurance would laugh at her if she tried to go someplace like the Mayo Clinic. And that was assuming she could get in before it ran out. “How are you?”

  “Me? Fine. I always enjoy Sundays around here. They’re laid back. Quiet. The horses need a little looking after, but that’s to be expected. Anyway, I find it restful.”

  “Why don’t you go to church with the Hewitts?” Skye blurted out the question before she could think better of it. She hurried to add on, “They don’t care. I just wondered.”

  “It’s a reasonable question.” He crooked his elbow and offered it to her. “Why don’t we walk in? Maria likes to serve right at noon on Sundays so she and Calvin can have their own quiet afternoon if nothing else is going on.”

  Skye frowned. She was probably steady enough on her feet to make it alone. She took a step, wobbled, and reached for Morgan’s arm.

  With a small smile, he tucked her close and started toward the house. “I checked out my church when I started here. I wasn’t sold on the idea of attending the same place as my employers. It was a good fit, so I stayed. Once I got to know the Hewitts and realized they saw us more like family than employees, I considered switching, but by then I was plugged in. And like you said, they don’t mind. They just want us to go somewhere.”

  Rich, meaty aromas wafted through the air inside the house. Skye’s mouth watered. “I see why you come here for as many meals as you do.”

  He laughed. “I’d be stupid not to. Tommy and Joaquin aren’t dumb, either. They’re both out of town this weekend.”

  “Wayne said Joaquin is looking at stock. What’s Tommy doing?” She hadn’t seen much of either of the other two ranch hands. They were busy with their own work during the days, and they tended to grab food and disappear as soon as they were finished. They seemed nice. Neither one drew her eye like Morgan.

  “He’s in Colorado visiting his daughter. His ex makes it hard.” Morgan shook his head. “He loves his kid, but that woman keeps cutting back on the time he’s able to see her.”

  “How? Isn’t that up to the courts?”

  “Sure, if he’d gone through the courts.”

  Skye snorted. “What’s that mean? Doesn’t it always go through the courts? It’s a divorce with minors involved.”

  “In theory. But when one of the parties is from a well-off, well-connected family who know several judges in family court, they put on pressure and you end up agreeing to things you never would have said you’d consider.”

  Did Morgan have kids? She glanced up at him. Wouldn’t that have been something he mentioned right off? “You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

  “Me? No. No kids. One divorce. But I was a cop, remember? You see it all. When Tommy finally broke down and told me what was going on with him, it wasn’t a huge surprise. It happens more often than people realize. Emotional blackmail is powerful.” Morgan pulled out a chair at the dining room table and held it for Skye.

  “Oh. I was going to go try and help—”

  “You’re pale. Just sit. I think they’re almost ready anyway.” Morgan strode off.

  Skye frowned. He was bossy. She ought to get up and follow—she could carry something to the table. She took a deep breath and mentally geared herself up to stand.

  “There you are.” Cyan came in, arms loaded with serving dishe
s. He set them on the table and glanced behind him. “You got those, Calvin?”

  “Yeah.” Calvin came in carefully balancing an over-full basket of rolls. One toppled off the top and landed on the table as he tried to set it down.

  Skye snatched it up and put it on her plate. “That’ll be mine. Thanks, Calvin.”

  He grinned at her and flopped into the chair next to her. “Can I sit by you?”

  “Of course.” She wanted to hug him. He was a sweet kid and, now that Cyan was home, he was warming up around her. “Do you need to ask your mom?”

  “Why?”

  Cyan chuckled. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just save the other side for your mom, okay? You know she likes to hold your hand during the prayer.”

  Calvin rolled his eyes, but they glinted with mischief.

  “Did you enjoy church?” Cyan sat on the other side of Skye and shook out his napkin.

  “I did.” She broke off as everyone joined them and took seats around the table.

  Wayne cleared his throat and beamed at the crowd. “This is so nice. And tomorrow, it’s going to be even better with Royal here.”

  Cyan’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced at Skye with a question clear on his features.

  She nodded.

  Betsy patted Wayne’s arm then took his hand. “Bless the food, honey. We have a lot to be grateful for.”

  “That we do.” Wayne bowed his head.

  Skye quickly closed her eyes. She felt Calvin take one hand and Cyan hold the other and couldn’t stop the smile that spread over her lips.

  8

  Morgan missed most of Wayne’s prayer. Royal was coming here. Another Hewitt grandchild? Would he stay like Cyan and Skye seemed intent on doing? He didn’t mind. Cyan was a good guy.

  And Skye . . . well, he wasn’t in any hurry for Skye to leave either.

  He cleared his throat. “Remind me where Royal fits again?”

  “He’s my twin. Older by twenty minutes, which I’m sure he’ll manage to work into six or seven conversations.” Skye scooped roasted potatoes and carrots onto her plate before passing the serving dish. “He needs me to help him with one of his sponsored videos.”