The Rancher's Redemption

by Myra Johnson

  “Wouldn’t be so sure.” Kent’s encouraging smile warmed her. “You’re without a doubt the best interior designer I’ve ever known.”

  Grinning, she narrowed one eye. “And how many would that be, exactly?”

  His grimace told the tale.

  “That’s what I thought,” Erin said with a snicker. Growing serious, she continued, “I’d really hoped to help paint your kitchen tomorrow, but with everything else that’s come up—”

  “Don’t think twice about it. I’ll manage just fine.”

  “Are you sure? Because I feel like I’m letting you down.”

  “You’re not.” Kent lightly touched her wrist, his voice softening. “You never could.”

  A tingle raced up Erin’s arm as she smiled her thanks. “While I’m shopping with Christina this afternoon, I’ll take your color samples and look at kitchen curtain fabric.”

  “You’re planning to sew the curtains yourself?”

  “I’m a woman of many talents,” she said with a twitch of her brow, and realized it was true. Basket maker, seamstress, interior designer—it was only a matter of finding the confidence to make the best use of those talents.

  Finding Kent gazing at her, a crooked grin skewing his lips, she tilted her head. “What?”

  “You.” His grin widened. “The first time I saw you in my pasture under the tree, you reminded me of a scared little rabbit trying hard to act brave. It’s good to see it’s not so much of an act anymore.”

  A sense of pride rippled through her. “It helps to have encouraging friends who believe in me.”

  Kent grew silent, his gaze shifting briefly toward the road. He glanced back at her, the corners of his eyes narrowing. “I think you’ve helped me more. If not for you, I doubt I’d have set foot in a church again, much less sat down for a one-on-one with the minister.”

  “Oh, Kent.” Erin’s eyes welled, and she instinctively reached for his hand. “Did you talk to Pastor Terry? How did it—” Shaking her head, she clamped her lips together. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize for caring.” Tenderly, he cradled her hand with both of his. “It’s one of the things I lo—” His throat worked. “What I mean is, you’re a good friend and I’m grateful to have you in my life.”

  Nerves thrumming, she could barely breathe. “I feel the same way.”

  The door opened behind them. When Ben Zipp ambled out, Erin and Kent sprang apart, arms dropping to their sides.

  “Great sale on grills, young lady.” Offering a perceptive grin, Ben stroked a shiny black lid. “Hope my hotshot salesman here is answering questions to your satisfaction.”

  “Doin’ my best.” Kent ducked his head.

  Erin edged toward her car. “Actually, I need to be going.” So much for acting brave. “I’ll get back to you about the...the curtains and such.”

  Driving away, she replayed their conversation, especially the moment when she felt sure Kent had almost used the word love. He’d probably only meant it as a figure of speech, but it said a lot about how much their friendship had grown.

  She certainly couldn’t deny the changes in herself in the short time she’d lived in Juniper Bluff. When Greg had first suggested the move, she’d been terrified of living on her own as a single mom. Even with Greg and his money as her safety net, she’d had doubts she could manage it. Yet, that was exactly what she was doing, and every day it got a little easier.

  “I am a woman of many talents,” she said aloud. Hearing the self-assurance in her voice, she sat up a little straighter behind the wheel. “And when God shows me the time is right—and the man is right—I’ll be ready to open my heart again.”

  Kent Ritter’s face instantly popped into her thoughts. This...whatever it was between them...was both wonderful and terrifying. One step at a time, she reminded herself. For now, she’d simply enjoy their friendship while praying for Kent to find his way back to the Lord.

  * * *

  Kent glared at his boss—a friendly glare but not altogether forgiving. “Thanks for nothing, Ben.”

  “Gotta keep my employees honest.” Ben adjusted the big red-and-white sale tag on one of the grills.

  “I was being honest, in case you didn’t notice.” At least, he’d been about to be. Kent had suffered the strongest urge to confide in Erin, and not only about his visit with Pastor Terry.

  Ben clapped him on the back, fatherly affection in the older man’s eyes. “Told you the other day there’s a right time for everything, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So be sure you’re at peace with yourself before you pass the point of no return with that sweet little gal.” With a jerk of his chin, Ben marched inside.

  Point of no return? Kent pinched the back of his neck. Was he closer to that moment than he realized? He’d met Erin barely three weeks ago, and considering they were both wounded souls, it would be foolish and dangerous to rush into anything resembling romance. Erin’s confidence might be blooming with each new opportunity, and Kent was definitely seeing his life in a new light after his conversation with Pastor Terry, but he still had a lot of healing to do.

  Problem was, the deeper his feelings grew for Erin, the more impatient with himself he became. He whipped out his cell phone and tapped Pastor Terry’s number. When the pastor picked up, Kent identified himself and said, “I know we talked about meeting again next week, but could we maybe do it sooner? Like...today?”

  “How about lunch? Want to meet at Casa Luis?”

  “That’d be great. I’m about to finish up at the hardware store.”

  There was a pause. “You okay, Kent? Did something happen?”

  “Not really. But I could use some help putting a few things into perspective.”

  “I’ll say an extra prayer for the Holy Spirit to enter into our discussion.”

  Kent spent the drive to the restaurant framing the thoughts and questions he wanted to share with Pastor Terry. Mainly, he needed to believe he wasn’t too damaged to become the kind of man deserving of a woman like Erin.

  Over their combo plates of tamales, enchiladas, rice and beans, Pastor Terry assured him of just that. “Yes, your time in Afghanistan and everything you experienced there left scars. But you were a good man before your military service, and you are a good man now. Above all else, you are still a beloved child of God.”

  “That’s one thing I’m struggling with.” Kent stabbed a bite of enchilada. “I’ve been angry with God for so long, blaming Him for this messed-up world where human beings maim and kill each other in senseless power struggles. Makes it hard to believe His love makes a difference.”

  “It does, though. God’s love, working through people like you, makes a difference because you care enough to strive for—even fight for—a better world.”

  Letting the pastor’s words sink in, Kent scooped guacamole onto a tortilla chip and studied it. “Think we’ll ever be able to look back and see the difference we made?”

  “That’s where faith comes into play, because while our human vision is limited, our eternal God knows how the story ends, and He has already declared it good.” Pastor Terry cast a regretful glance at his watch. “Unfortunately, I need to get to my next appointment. But let’s talk again soon, okay?” Sliding from the booth, he snatched up both their checks and offered a warm smile. “See you in church next Sunday.”

  Not a question, not an invitation. Kent nodded, figuring he owed the pastor another Sunday since he’d just treated Kent to lunch.

  More than that, he owed it to himself. If Ben Zipp was right about there being a time for everything, then this must be Kent’s time for getting right with God. So he’d come down to two choices: continue wandering in his spiritual desert, or go all in with this faith thing and watch what the Lord could do with a committed life.

  Pull
ing up next to his house later, he was struck again by what a difference a fresh coat of white paint had made. He also knew from the work he and the boys had put in that it wasn’t merely superficial. They’d filled in cracks, nailed down loose siding, replaced broken shutters—whatever repairs were needed to create a clean and intact surface for painting. Seemed like the ideal metaphor for the work Kent faced in shoring up his spiritual life.

  When he rode out to check on his cattle, he found one of the cows with her new calf already on its feet and nursing—a good sign. Typically, it was the bred heifers he had to worry about, since this would be their first experience calving. It might be a blessing in disguise that only a few were pregnant this year, because this hurry-up renovation project was keeping him busy enough, and he didn’t need any other problems.

  Returning to the house, he got busy on the kitchen. He patched a few holes in the plaster and taped off the woodwork, then spread a tarp across the floor before pouring paint into a roller pan. The creamy yellow Erin had selected made him smile as the dreary room brightened with every stroke of the paint roller.

  Skip was smart enough—or lazy enough—to stay in the living room and out of Kent’s way. Until supper time anyway, when the dog plopped his rear down on the tarp and gave Kent “the look.”

  “Leave it to a hungry dog to let a guy know when it’s quitting time.” Kent chuckled as he covered the paint and wrapped the roller in a plastic bag.

  While Skip crunched his kibble, Kent grilled a pork chop for himself and heated a can of mixed veggies. He ate his meal in front of the TV and had just set the plate aside when his cell phone rang. When he read Erin’s name on the display, his pulse ramped up a notch.

  “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said.

  “Just kicking back with Skip. We were painting most of the afternoon.”

  “We?”

  “Skip’s my CEO—canine executive officer.” With her gentle laughter wrapping around him like a cozy blanket, Kent settled back against the sofa cushions. “How was your trip to Fredericksburg?”

  “Quite successful. Which is why I’m calling. I found the perfect curtain fabric for your kitchen and I can’t wait to show you. Can I bring it out tomorrow after work?”

  “I thought you needed to start on the special-order basket.”

  “I’ll go blind if I spend the whole afternoon on it. What if I drop by before I pick up Avery from school? I’ll bring the fabric swatch and also measure the windows.”

  “Sounds good.” Inhaling deeply, Kent sat forward, forehead braced in his hand. “Erin, about this morning at the store, I know things were starting to get awkward, and I just wanted to say...” Actually, he had no idea where he was going with this.

  A muffled sigh. “It’s okay, Kent. You don’t have to explain.”

  But he did. Scrambling for words, he rushed on, “The thing is, you’ve been on my mind all day. Practically since we first met, to tell the truth. And it’s making me wonder—”

  “Kent. Stop.” Her tone was gently insistent. “There are things I’d like to say to you, too, but not over the phone. How about we table this discussion until I see you tomorrow?”

  He didn’t know if he could wait that long, but he recognized the wisdom of her suggestion. “Sounds good.”

  They said goodbye, and he tossed the phone onto the end table. As he massaged his eye sockets, Skip crawled off the easy chair and poked his nose under Kent’s arm.

  “Yeah, boy, I’ve got it bad.” A strangled laugh burst from his throat. Scratching the old dog behind the ears, he shook his head at the crazy new direction his life had taken and prayed for the faith to believe God wouldn’t let him go astray.

  * * *

  Seeing Kent’s house for the first time with its new coat of paint made Erin’s heart lift. She stood with her mouth agape and a hand to her throat.

  Kent emerged from the back door, Skip trotting alongside. He came up next to Erin and looked toward the house. “What do you think?”

  “I think it’s amazing.” She slanted him a reproving smirk. “Tell me it doesn’t make you wish you’d started this project a long time ago.”

  “Guess I just needed the right incentives. With my place soon to be an official historical site, I scraped up enough to put a down payment on that bull I’ve had my eye on. This time next year, I’m hoping for some top-dollar calves.”

  Erin shrugged. “Getting a tax break is nice, but it should be incentive enough that this is your home.” She instantly regretted her judgmental tone. “That’s just me, though. I’ve always needed my home to be a pleasant, inviting place. It makes everything else more bearable.”

  A guilty look crinkled the corners of his eyes. “I’m beginning to think you might be right about that.”

  She looked up at him. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.” A lazy smile warmed his features. “Want to see how the inside’s coming along?”

  “Yes!”

  After grabbing her purse from the car, Erin walked with Kent to the house. As he held open the door to the screen porch, Skip darted in ahead of them.

  Pausing at the threshold to the kitchen, Kent suggested, “Maybe you should close your eyes first.”

  Excitement coursed through her veins. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Okay, but don’t let me trip on anything.”

  Kent’s hand surrounded hers in a gentle but protective hold as he tugged her forward. “Little step up here. Now straight ahead.” After a few more steps, he told her to open her eyes. “Ta-da!”

  Erin gasped. The pastel yellow she’d selected from a tiny color sample card now bathed Kent’s kitchen in the happy glow of a sunny day. “I love it!”

  “It’ll look even better once I get the trim painted.” Kent took her hand again. “Already started on the living room. Come tell me what you think.”

  With the furniture moved to the center of the room and covered with old sheets, it didn’t look much like a living room at the moment, but the two walls Kent had painted a light cocoa brown added charm and character.

  “I can’t believe how much you’ve done already. It looks great!” Erin eyed the scruffy dog curled up on the sheet covering an equally scruffy chair. “Have you thought about investing in some new furnishings to enhance the look?”

  “Thought I’d leave that to my interior designer.” Kent winked. “So long as she remembers I’m a poor, hardworking cowboy.”

  “A cowboy who’d rather spend his hard-earned money on a prize bull,” she said with a snort. “And before I forget what I came for...” She reached into her purse for the swatch of yellow calico she’d picked up at the fabric store. “Here’s what I’d like to use for the kitchen curtains.”

  “Pretty.” Kent fingered the cloth, but he was looking straight at Erin. “Real pretty.”

  Her pulse thrummed along either side of her throat. “Kent... I need to say something.”

  His mouth tightened into a strained smile. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

  Erin motioned toward the sheet-covered sofa. “Suppose we could sit down and talk for a minute?”

  After Kent tossed aside the sheet, they each claimed an end of the sofa. Erin tucked one leg under her, hands clutched in her lap. “After what I went through with my ex-husband, I promised myself I’d never risk going through that again—for my own sake, but especially for Avery’s.”

  “Nobody can blame you for that.”

  “There’s more, though.” Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Kent, I like you a lot, and you’re a wonderful friend. But the next time I give my heart to someone, he’ll have to be a man I can trust completely. A man of faith. A man who’s right with God.”

  Silence cloaked the room, the only sound Skip’s rumbling snores as he dozed on the easy chair.

  “I get it,” Kent said with a shaky laugh. “I�
�m still finding my way through some stuff, and the last thing I want is to complicate your life with my baggage.”

  Erin scoffed. “Baggage? I’ve got truckloads.” She tilted her head to meet his gaze with a reassuring smile. “But God is big enough and strong enough to bear it all. You just have to trust Him.”

  He reached for her hand. “Maybe you could pray for a little more of your faith to rub off on me.”

  “Already have been.” She brushed at a streak of wetness on her cheek. “Now, why don’t we take those curtain measurements before I have to pick up Avery from school?”

  Chapter Ten

  Kent really should have thought harder about undertaking a major home-improvement project during spring calving season. Three of his cows had delivered over the weekend, and while the mamas and calves were thriving, he’d grown concerned about a feisty little heifer due any day now. Late Friday, he’d moved her to a holding pen close to the barn so he could keep a sharp eye on her.

  His concerns proved justified when he found her in labor early Sunday morning. He placed a quick call to Doc Ingram, and within twenty minutes, the vet’s pickup nosed up to the pasture gate.

  “Yep, she’s struggling,” Doc Ingram said as he joined Kent inside the enclosure. “Let’s move her into the barn to a calving stall.”

  Once they were able to calm the heifer, the delivery proceeded without complications, but the animal didn’t have a clue what to do with her newborn.

  Kent peered into the stall where they’d moved the scrawny black calf. “Looks like I’m gonna be bottle-feeding.”

  Doc Ingram finished washing up at the barn sink. “Got some formula on hand?”

  “Enough to get through the next couple of days. I’ll pick up more while I’m in town tomorrow.” Kent followed the vet out to his pickup. “Thanks, Doc. Sorry I had to get you up at the crack of dawn on a Sunday.”

  “All part of the job.” With a quick glance at his watch, Doc Ingram grinned. “Still time to make it home for a shower and shave before church.”