by Myra Johnson
“Yeah, stupid.” Yet his grandfather still wouldn’t let it go. To this day, Spencer wasn’t clear on what had come between Arturo Navarro and Egan McClement all those years ago. Now this ugly barbed-wire fence severed what had once been Rancho de Manos y Corazón—Hands and Heart Ranch—the vision of two army buddies who’d become best friends while serving in the Korean War.
It was all Tito talked about most days, his unrelenting desire to reclaim the land Egan “stole” from him when the partnership splintered and they legally divided the ranch and holdings. Now that Charles Forrester had passed way, Tito was convinced Audra would finally decide to sell, and he intended to win the bid.
“So,” Lindsey said, pulling his thoughts to the present, “are you going to show me your rescue horse or not?”
“Sure.” With the pumpkin bread tucked under one arm, Spencer braced the fence opening while Lindsey bent to ease through.
Stepping out on the Navarro side, she straightened with a groan. “Seemed a lot easier when we were kids. Don’t tell me you still use this when you go back and forth to Audra’s?”
“Not anymore. Sometimes I go around by the road, but usually I climb over at one of the fence posts.”
Lindsey glanced back at the opening, a sad smile creasing her lips. “Guess we’ve both outgrown the past.”
Unsure if that was an entirely good thing, Spencer merely nodded and started toward the barn.
Catching up, Lindsey asked, “What’s the story about this horse?”
“The deputy told me he found her near Liberty Hill. Said the owner’s losing his farm and couldn’t afford the feed bills. Plus, he had to keep chasing off a bored kid with a pellet gun.”
“Oh, no! The horse was shot?”
Spencer gave a grim nod as they entered the barn. After leaving the pumpkin bread on a nearby shelf, he led the way to Cinnamon’s stall. “Don’t be put off by how bad she looks. The wounds will heal, and after a few weeks of good nutrition, she’ll be a fine little mare.”
“Poor thing.” Lindsey held out her hand, and the mare ambled over for a scratch beneath her chin. “She’s so friendly.”
“And forgiving, despite what she’s been through.”
“Easier said than done. For some of us, anyway.” With a tired exhalation, she folded her arms along the top of the stall gate. “I’ve been spending nearly every waking hour since I got here trying to sort out Audra’s financial mess, and this morning I got upset with my dad again for how he’s abdicated any responsibility for his share of the ranch.”
Spencer couldn’t forget how angry and withdrawn she’d been the first summer after her father had skipped out on them. He hated seeing Lindsey so troubled, and no response he could think of seemed adequate. Why was it so easy to tell her all about his horses and so hard to talk about anything more personal?
He reached for the halter and lead rope hanging from the gate. “I need to take Cinnamon out for a short walk to give her some exercise. You’re welcome to come along.”
* * *
Being around Spencer again was bringing back all kinds of memories—mostly good ones, but others...not so much. She’d devolved into a total mess the summer Dad left. At an awkward stage between childhood and adolescence, she’d been angry one minute, sulky the next, and generally an absolute grouch.
But Spencer had shown her more understanding than anyone. He hadn’t tried to talk her off her metaphorical ledges or commiserated with her about what a louse her father had turned out to be. He was simply there. He’d let her muck stalls with him while his wild and reckless twin brother jumped out of the hayloft, or he’d saddle a couple of horses and lead her on a trail ride through the pastures. She surmised Spencer was only thinking up things to do that would keep her out of trouble, but by the end of the summer, she’d fallen head over heels in puppy love with him.
She cringed at the warmth creeping up her face. When Spencer handed her Cinnamon’s lead rope, she figured this was another of his attempts to find something “safe” he could occupy her with.
“We won’t go far,” he said, walking beside her. “She needs to gradually build up her strength as she regains some weight.”
Lindsey reached up to caress Cinnamon’s cheek. “Such a sweetie. How long before her wounds heal?”
“They’re mostly on the surface, so a couple of weeks, provided there’s no infection. With daily saline rinses and antibiotic ointment, she should be fine.” They’d reached a small paddock. Spencer unlatched the gate and motioned her through. “Once around the perimeter and we’ll head back. Don’t want to tire her out too much.”
The midday sun, peeping out from behind the clouds, stole some of the chill from the December air. Lindsey tilted her head to receive the golden rays. “This is so much better than spending fifty hours a week in a stuffy, windowless cubicle.”
“So you really quit your job?”
“I really did.”
Spencer gave a thoughtful nod, and they continued in silence for several steps until he asked, “What now? I mean, will you apply somewhere else, or...?”
“Haven’t thought that far ahead. I have some savings to fall back on, so I plan to stay and help Audra as long as she needs me.” Releasing a tired laugh, she let her head fall forward. “And judging from the avalanche of bills and insurance paperwork I’ve been digging through, the end is nowhere in sight.”
“Sounds like you have plenty to keep you busy.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Was this a subtle hint for her to leave? “If I’m keeping you from something—”
“No, didn’t mean it like that.” Tucking his fingers into his vest pockets, Spencer uttered a nervous laugh. “I...uh...was wondering...”
She angled a wary glance his way. “Wondering what?”
They’d circled back to the gate. Spencer held it open while Lindsey led the horse through, then latched it behind her. “See, taking in rescue horses can get expensive, and I thought with your financial know-how, maybe you could give me some advice.”
He actually wanted her help? “What kind of advice are you looking for—budgeting, bookkeeping, cash flow management?”
“All of the above. It’s either that—” he glared toward the barn “—or risk my dad putting his foot down about fostering more rescues.”
“I would have thought your father, of all people, would be in favor of saving horses’ lives.”
“In principle, yes. But not if it cuts into the quarter horse business.” Spencer’s frown indicated the issue had been eating at him awhile. Back in the barn, he released Cinnamon into her stall, then pointed toward the sink. “We need to wash up. Can’t risk spreading infection.”
While they took turns scrubbing their hands with potent-smelling disinfectant soap, Lindsey pondered Spencer’s request. “Have you considered forming a nonprofit and raising funds that way?”
“Deputy Miller suggested the same thing.” Drying his hands, Spencer shrugged. “But it sounds more complicated than I have time to figure out.”
Lindsey nodded thoughtfully as she accepted the clean towel Spencer offered. “I can look into it for you.”
“If it means taking time away from your aunt’s affairs—”
“Honestly, it’d be a welcome break.” She propped her hips against the wall. “Wouldn’t share this with just anyone, but I’m going a little bit crazy over there. The condition of Audra’s finances is not a pretty picture.”
“It’s clear she’s been struggling since Charles died.” Spencer dropped their used towels into a hamper. “I’ve asked several times if I could do more for her—feed her livestock, make minor repairs, whatever she needed. But your aunt is...” He glanced away, brows knit as if he searched for the right words.
“A difficult woman to help.” Lindsey nodded. “Believe me, I get it. She doesn’t know how to stop doing for others and let so
meone else take care of her.”
“What’s she going to do, then? To support herself.”
Eyes narrowed, Lindsey hiked her chin. “I can promise you one thing—she isn’t selling the McClement ranch.” Her confidence wavered, and she pressed her palms against her temples. “Except I have no idea yet how to keep that from happening.”
“If anyone can...” Spencer roughly cleared his throat. “On the other hand, a widow running a cattle ranch all on her own? If there happened to be an interested buyer—”
“There has to be another solution. I’m not giving up.” Lips pursed, she studied him. “Can I bounce an idea off you?”
“Uh, sure.”
She meandered outside and gazed toward her aunt’s house. “I keep remembering the thrill I felt each summer when Mom turned up the lane—the pristine white farmhouse surrounded by a lush green lawn, Grandma’s rosebushes bordering the porch, cattle grazing in the grassy pastures. And the little family chapel—remember when we used to sneak in there and play church?”
“Hard to forget my brother’s rambling ‘sermons’—or the time your grandmother caught us in there and gave us what for.”
“Grandma was so sure the hundred-year-old building would come crashing down with the next gust of wind. And yet it’s still standing.” Lindsey snickered. “Although possibly only because the junk stored in there is holding up the walls.”
“I don’t know,” Spencer mused with a crooked smile. “Some things are built to last.”
Like childhood friendships, perhaps? Lindsey ducked her head before Spencer could glimpse the blush warming her face. “Anyway,” she continued in a rush, “I started thinking the ranch would make a great location as a photography setting or even a country wedding venue. We’d need to do major cleanup and repairs, but can you see the potential? Or am I only grasping at straws?”
The smile left Spencer’s face. “If Audra’s already so deeply in debt, how can she afford to turn the property into a wedding venue?”
“That’s what I keep coming back to.” Shoulders sagging, Lindsey exhaled a weary sigh. “I should get back. You have things to do, and I need to keep plugging away on Audra’s finances.”
She’d taken only a couple of steps toward the opening in the fence when Spencer’s quiet voice sounded behind her. “It’ll work out, Lindsey. Have faith.”
A twinge of annoyance rippled up her spine. “Guess Samuel isn’t the only ‘preacher’ in your family.”
At his hurt look, she instantly regretted her words.
She swallowed and tried a more tactful tone. “Sorry, but I’m running a bit low in the faith department lately. Afraid I’m stuck with determination and hard work.”
When she reached her front porch a few minutes later, she cast a rueful glance toward the Navarro ranch. Good—Spencer was nowhere in sight. He’d been nothing but kind, but she’d had to snap at him. Must be the cumulative stress of quitting her job, worrying over Audra’s state of affairs and wondering what her own future held.
As she started inside, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Retrieving it, she found a text message from Holly Elliot, one of her two best friends from high school. How’s it going? Stir-crazy yet?
Lindsey started to text back, then decided she’d much rather hear her friend’s voice. She pressed the call icon instead.
“Hey, you!” came Holly’s cheery greeting. “Thought you might be too busy to talk.”
“Always have time for you.” Lindsey detoured to the swing at the far end of the porch and plopped down. “What are you up to?”
“Taking a break while my quiches are in the oven. I’m doing lunch for a ladies’ circle at my church.” Holly, a widowed single mom, ran a catering service out of her home in Waxahachie. Lindsey pictured her with flour on her nose and her ash-brown curls tucked into a messy bun. “The gig doesn’t pay much, but every little bit helps, and anyway, I couldn’t turn down this bunch of sweet senior citizens.” She lowered her voice. “I’ll have to take Davey with me, though. He had a seizure at school yesterday and isn’t a hundred percent yet.”
“I’m so sorry. Poor little guy.” Holly’s nine-year-old son had been diagnosed with epilepsy two years ago.
“Oh, but he’s a trouper. Says he’s happy to help me serve the ‘grandmas.’ They’re always so nice to him at church.” The ding of a kitchen timer sounded through the phone. “Oops, quiches are done. Can I call you later?”
“Sure. Can’t wait to catch up.”
As they said goodbye, the wheels in Lindsey’s brain began whirring once again. With a little—okay, a lot—of TLC, the chapel and grounds could be turned into a charming site for a country wedding. Her best friend was a culinary school graduate. Lindsey had the business and financial expertise. Now, if only a few more pieces would fall into place, such as several thousand dollars literally dropping from the sky...
Have faith.
“Sorry, Spencer,” she muttered on her way inside. If only faith were enough.
She tried, she really did. Even managed a few “Help me!” prayers when things got desperate. But the loving “Daddy-God” her Christian friends spoke of seemed like a myth, or wishful thinking at best. Fathers—human or heavenly—couldn’t be counted on. That much, Lindsey knew from experience.
Chapter Three
Another three days went by without Spencer seeing Lindsey again, and every time he paused in his work to look beyond the fence toward the McClement house, his disappointment grew. Yes, drawing upon her financial know-how might help him rescue more horses. But his wanting to talk to her again wasn’t only because he’d had to dig deep into his personal bank account to pay Cinnamon’s vet bill. Truth be told, until Lindsey had arrived at Audra’s last week, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her all these years.
Exiting the barn, he heard the rumble of the mail truck. Sounded like Lyle the postman had stopped at the McClement box. Since Lindsey’s arrival, Spencer had backed off from fetching Audra’s mail. If he hurried, though, he could say he just wanted to ask how things were going over there.
As he tucked Audra’s mail under his arm and started up the lane, he noticed Lindsey sauntering his way.
She looked up with surprise. “You didn’t have to do that. I was just coming down.”
“No problem.” He handed her the stack of envelopes along with several ads and Christmas shopping catalogs. “Figured you were staying pretty busy, so I thought I’d ask if y’all needed anything.”
“Do we need anything?” As she flipped distractedly through the catalogs, her pained expression only deepened. “Nothing discovering a gold mine in the backyard couldn’t fix.” She glanced toward the house. “Things are even worse than I first thought. You wouldn’t believe the credit card debt Audra’s racked up just trying to stay afloat. Plus, she owes back taxes on the property, and the county’s threatening a foreclosure sale.”
Grimacing, Spencer massaged the back of his neck. His concerns seemed trivial next to hers. “I had no idea it’d gotten that bad.”
“If only she’d said something months ago—at the funeral, or even last year when Uncle Charles first got so sick—I’d have been here in a flash. Now...” Her shoulders heaved in an exaggerated shrug, and she looked on the verge of tears. “I’m trying my best to keep a whole bunch of smoldering brush fires from turning into one big, blazing inferno.”
Spencer ached to help somehow or even say something the least bit encouraging. But only this morning, he’d overheard Dad and Tito discussing the McClement property again, almost as if they anticipated being able to grab it at auction. Wouldn’t it be better for Audra in the long run if she set her own price, cut her losses and got out from under this burden? As financially savvy as Lindsey was, surely she’d eventually see the sense in that.
Today, though, it wasn’t the smart, capable Lindsey standing before him. Instead, he saw a wo
man confronted by her own vulnerability, not so different from the twelve-year-old girl who’d cried on his shoulder the summer her parents split up, and it was tearing him up inside. He started to reach for her hand, then pulled back and stuffed his fingers into his jeans pockets. “You’ll figure it out, Linds. You always do.”
If she’d noticed his clumsy almost-gesture of concern, she didn’t show it. Sniffing, she squared her shoulders. “I will. I have no choice. This is the McClement ranch, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure it stays in the family.”
Seemed like she was trying to convince herself, but Spencer saw the doubt in her eyes. “Like I said, if you need anything...” Soooo helpful. Frustrated with his powerlessness to fix this for her, he turned to go.
“Thanks for getting the mail,” she called after him. “Sorry to be such a downer.”
He paused to stare at his boot toes for a moment, then swiveled to face her. “You have nothing to apologize for. And I mean it. Whatever happens, Audra’s future couldn’t be in better hands.”
“Thanks. That means a lot.” A smile returning, she tilted her head. “I could be wrong, but when I first saw you walking up the lane, I got the sense you had something else on your mind.”
“Not important. I know you’re busy—”
“Spencer, spit it out,” she said with a crooked grin. Before he could form a response, her brows shot up. “Of course! You said something the other day about needing advice to fund your horse rescue work. I’m so sorry. I’ve been totally consumed with Audra’s affairs—”
“It’s okay. Knowing what you’re going through, I feel bad for even mentioning it.”
“No, don’t. Why don’t you come inside and we can talk right now?”
He slanted a brow. “If you’re sure...”
“Absolutely. Audra has some homemade apple cider in the Crock-Pot. And I can tell you from experience that a steaming mug stirred with a cinnamon stick takes the edge off dealing with money problems.”
“All right, then. Thanks.” His chest hummed with anticipation that had nothing to do with the apple cider—or Lindsey’s offer of advice.
