Christmas with the Cowboy

by Tina Radcliffe

  “But...” Benjie said.

  “Yes, sir, is the appropriate response,” Zach said, his voice low and nearly a growl.

  Emma’s eyes rounded at the menacing tone in his voice.

  Benjie blinked and swallowed. Then he inched back several paces. “Yes, sir.”

  “Mick, do you have a horse?” Zach asked.

  “Yes, sir. We’re all assigned horses to ride and groom.”

  “Then I’ll trust you both to saddle up and wait outside.” He looked between them. “Quietly.”

  “Yes, sir,” both boys repeated, eager to leave.

  “Helmets,” Emma called after them.

  “Yes, sir,” Mick said.

  Emma laughed. “I’m ma’am.”

  When she turned back to Zach, he pulled off his ball cap and then slapped it back on. His lips were twitching and his eyes sparkled with a humor she hadn’t seen in years.

  “That was impressive,” Emma said as she grabbed her gloves and moved past Zach.

  “Maybe I did get something out of the navy after all.” He turned to her. “You going to be using the round pen?” he asked.

  “Go ahead. I’ll grab a fresh horse and take Benjie on a short trail ride and wear him out.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me just yet.” She lowered her voice. “You should know that Mick is one of our more difficult kids. He wears an attitude most of the time. When it comes to lessons, well, he’s nervous in the saddle. Then he freezes up, gets defensive and can’t hear a word you’re telling him.”

  “And the horse?”

  “We put him on Grace. My girls could ride Grace if I let them, but Mick hasn’t mastered proper saddling, much less riding.”

  “How long has he been taking lessons?”

  “Not long. He and Benjie arrived at the ranch at the end of the summer. City boys, in and out of foster homes.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “No problem.” She gave his leg a fleeting glance as she headed to another stall.

  “My knee is fine,” he called.

  “Fine is a relative word,” she mumbled to herself.

  Stubborn and prideful man. He wouldn’t admit he was in pain and he refused to discuss the injury. Maybe Dutch could make some headway. The old cowboy had a silver tongue and a gift for weaseling information.

  An hour later, with Benjie’s lesson completed, Emma instructed the boy to head in to groom his horse before dinner. She led her own mare to the pen fence to observe Zach and Mick.

  Mick finished adjusting the stirrups and turned to Zach, who stood several feet away, allowing the horse and rider to bond. “Done,” Mick called.

  Zach approached and circled Grace, carefully checking all aspects of the tack job the young rider had completed.

  “Nice job, Mick,” Zach said. “You groomed the horse, and the saddle is in place. Looks to me like you really know what you’re doing.”

  Mick beamed for a moment then he stole a peek at his wristwatch. A frown darkened his face. “It took us so long.”

  “Are we in a rush?”

  Mick shrugged his thin shoulders. “I guess not.”

  “This is not about clock watching, it is about learning how to do the job correctly. Grace’s life and yours depend on it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Yes, sir,” Zach corrected.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Give Grace a nice soft rub on her nose and talk to her, real quiet.”

  “I already did that.”

  “Can’t ever give an animal too much loving. You’re building a long-term relationship here.”

  Emma smiled at the words. He was so right. Zach might have spent the last twelve years in the navy, but he still remembered his cowboy roots.

  Moments later, Zach nodded and gave Mick a thumbs-up. “You’re ready to get on the horse.”

  Mick swallowed and his face paled. “But what if she bucks me?”

  “Grace is your friend. Give her a chance. You trust her, right?”

  He chewed his lip in thought before answering. “Maybe. But what if I fall off while I’m trying to get on?”

  Zach raised his hands and stepped closer. “I’m right here. I’ll catch you.” He met Mick’s worried gaze. “You’re just going to sit in the saddle today. That’s all. Nothing to it.”

  Mick didn’t appear comforted by the words.

  “Do I look like I can catch you?” Zach asked.

  “Yes, sir, but I don’t want to look stupid.” Mick frowned yet again, this time with a glance over at Emma.

  “I hear you.” Zach pivoted around on his boot and narrowed his eyes. “Would you please excuse us, Miss Emma?”

  “Oh, sure. Yes. Of course. Sorry.” Embarrassed, she turned away with the mare and headed inside to untack the horse.

  Ten minutes later, the clop, clop of a horse plodding along on the stable floor had her peeking over the stall gate.

  Zach offered a nod of acknowledgment as he and Grace walked down to the last stall on the left.

  Emma took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for interrupting your lesson.”

  “No problem. You know how it is. He’s a kid and he’s terrified he’ll humiliate himself in front of a beautiful woman.”

  “Beautiful woman?” she murmured.

  “Look in the mirror lately?”

  “I...” She cleared her throat and concentrated on the smooth velvet coat of the horse. “Well, yes, but usually what I see is the mother of twins.”

  “Look again.”

  “So how did you do?” she asked, letting the comment sail past her for analysis at a later time.

  “Are you going to harass me about my knee again?”

  When her hand slipped midstroke and the brush clattered to the ground, the chestnut mare snuffled an objection. “I’m talking about Mick,” she clarified.

  Minutes passed without a response.

  Emma peeked over the stall, but couldn’t see Zach. “Come on. Aren’t you going to share?”

  “I didn’t realize you were waiting for a report,” he called.

  “Mick’s been challenging since he arrived and I’ve had a few therapy sessions with him. Naturally, I’m curious.”

  “The lesson went well. Mick will be riding in no time.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I’m going to talk to Travis about taking over his lessons.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “Can’t say I did anything new. Went slow and acknowledged his fear. You’re the therapist, you know the drill.”

  “Yes, but what did you do that Travis didn’t?”

  “Probably nothing. Maybe I got through to him because I can relate to this kid.”

  “Oh?” Emma cleaned off the brush and currycomb in her hand and gave the horse a pat to let him know they were done.

  “Yeah. You might say we have a lot in common.”

  “Might?” She patted the horse again, checked the water and feed before latching the stall behind her.

  “Yeah, might.”

  “Because both of you are big brothers with a chip on your shoulder, you mean?”

  She thought she heard a chuckle but couldn’t be sure.

  “Something like that,” he said.

  Emma put the equipment away in the tack room across from Grace’s stall. When she came out, Zach was waiting for her. He’d leaned back against Grace’s stall gate with his weight on his right leg. “So tell me how this works.”

  “How what works?” she asked.

  “The setup with the kids at the ranch.”

  Emma pulled her car keys from her back pocket and paused. “What do you want to know?”

  “How the ranch helps the kids. What do you do that’s so special?”


  “What we do isn’t special. It’s simple and consistent. We create a new normal for them at Big Heart Ranch. We have two ranches here, the boys’ ranch and the girls’ ranch, separated by a road. The children are placed in a real house with house parents, not a dormitory. It’s not a biological family, but it is a family of the heart. Their forever family from that point on. They have daily devotionals, lessons, homework, chores and all, like any other kid.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Zach, that’s more than most of these kids have ever had. Every one of them comes from a situation that includes neglect and abuse. Many are orphaned or abandoned.”

  Zach took a deep breath at her words.

  “When their heads hit the pillow at night, they no longer have the burden of worry or fear on their shoulders. We replace that with unconditional love and God’s healing grace. We promise them that we will never lie to them and that we will always protect them. In return, they follow the ranch rules.” She shrugged. “We free them to be children.” Emma sighed. “Being a kid is highly undervalued these days.”

  For a long moment, Zach stared ahead as though unseeing. He was somewhere else, and she wished with all her heart that she understood where.

  “Zach,” she murmured. “You okay?”

  He turned slightly and met her gaze. “Never better.”

  “Then I guess I’ll see you later. I’ve got to get home to the girls.”

  “Thanks, Emma.”

  “For what?”

  “For letting me work with Mick.”

  “Sure.” Emma walked slowly to her car, puzzling over the conversation with Zach. She was certain that something remarkable had just happened but what that was eluded her.

  Had she spoken to the Lord about Zach lately, or had she relegated him to a forgotten place in her prayers because she was annoyed by his dismissal of RangePro? His dismissal of her. It was time to remember her words about unconditional love and give Zach Norman what he deserved.

  * * *

  Zach’s assessing gaze took in the Big Heart Ranch bunkhouse that would be his home for the next eight weeks. Though Spartan, the place had everything he needed. Small kitchenette and a little living room, complete with a love seat and recliner facing a television. Grabbing his duffel from the floor, he tossed it and his security badge from human resources onto one of the four empty beds.

  Easing down onto the mattress, he closed his eyes a moment.

  He was in pain.

  Emma was right, and it totally grated.

  His knee ached after a long day and he wasn’t sure which hurt most, the smooth dismount while roping the mechanical bull or the multiple awkward exits from the saddle while working in the pasture. There was definitely a learning curve to remembering to guard the knee. Should have worn his brace.

  Except, he hated the brace. Sure, it was worn under his jeans but he felt like everyone knew it was there.

  He also refused to take the narcotics or the muscle relaxers that the physician ordered. Instead, Zach grabbed the familiar tube of prescription analgesic cream from his bag.

  With a dab of cream in his hand, Zach rolled up the pant leg of his sweats and massaged the scars with vengeance. Six months ago, after the last unsuccessful surgery, he had come face-to-face with his future. Like the ranch kids, he was exploring his new normal.

  In his last covert reconnaissance operation, Zach not only lost his best friend, Ian Clark, but his career and life as he’d known it for twelve years had been buried.

  No matter how many surgeries he endured, he would never be 100 percent fit for duty again. The military docs were big on reminding him that he was fortunate to be alive, much less walk.

  Lately, he was feeling far from grateful. What would he say to Ian’s family when he visited them?

  Sorry I made it and Ian didn’t?

  No, that wasn’t going to cut it for parents with only one child, a child who was not coming home.

  Zach hung his head.

  He’d postponed meeting with the Clarks multiple times, waiting until he could figure that out. In the meantime, life as he knew it was over. A washed-up navy SEAL. Who was Zach Norman outside of the uniform? He didn’t know, but he was about to find out.

  As if on cue, the bunkhouse door flew open and Dutch Stevens, the wrangler Zach met earlier in the day, strode into the room, his scuffed boots beating a rhythm on the oak floorboards. The wizened cowboy tipped back his well-worn Western hat and pointedly stared at Zach’s knee.

  “That’s quite a few scars you got there.”

  “A road map to the unknown after three surgeries.”

  “Ouch.” Dutch grimaced.

  “It looks worse than it is.”

  “Not from where I stand, so I guess I’ll have to take your word for that.” Dutch shook his head. “Did you meet Tripp Walker, the equine manager?”

  “Yeah. Talkative guy.”

  Dutch chuckled. “Tripp believes that if more people would think before they spoke, they’d open their mouth a whole lot less.”

  “He’s on to something.”

  “Not sure I agree with him. But that’s our Tripp.” He rubbed his chin and kept talking. “Anyhow, he’s got weights and a bench set up for the staff in the back of the equipment barn near Travis’s office. Use them anytime you like.”

  “Thanks, Dutch.”

  “You looked pretty good out there roping with Travis. Like maybe you’ve done that before.”

  “A time or two,” Zach admitted. “Did a little bulldogging in my time, as well as heading and heeling.”

  “You don’t say?” The words held a tinge of awed respect. “A real cowboy then. I suspected as much.”

  “My father used to run a ranch outside of Pawhuska. That’s how I met the Maxwell kids. When they were pulled out of foster care by a relative, they lived right next door.”

  Dutch gave a slow nod. “Sure. That’s right. Jay Norman. Retired a few years ago. Steve was your brother?”

  “Half brother.”

  “Sorry for your loss.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I was out of town during the funeral. I guess I missed meeting you then.”

  Zach nodded. He’d been in and out on the day of the funeral. Arrived on the red-eye and left before sunset.

  “Shame for Emma and those babies. She and Steve weren’t married very long, either.”

  “No, I guess not.”

  “I know she’s glad to have Steve’s family here.”

  “Maybe so,” Zach murmured.

  “You’re gonna need linens if you’re staying.” Dutch walked over to a closet and pulled open the door. “They’re in here.”

  “Thanks, but who said I’m staying?” Zach asked.

  “Aw, don’t worry. Travis said to zip my lips. I can do that on occasion.”

  “I appreciate it. So where do you bunk?” Zach asked.

  “Over yonder.” He raised a thumb. “Couple of bunkhouses to the right. This here is the guest bunkhouse.”

  “I’m the only guest?”

  “For the moment.” Dutch gave a nod, obviously still thinking and sizing up Zach.

  “So you grew up with the Maxwells?” Dutch continued.

  “I did.” Zach smiled as he recalled the first time he saw Emma. Five years old, with long dark braids, a big grin, full of sass and already riding. He hadn’t thought about that in a long time.

  “Must have been pretty young, huh?” Dutch said.

  “Too young. No one should have to deal with the death of their parents and then have their foundation ripped out from under them like they did.”

  “Yet, that’s exactly what our kids here on Big Heart Ranch deal with. All of them.”

  Zach paused. “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

  “Sure enough. That’s what h
as made Lucy, Travis and Emma so determined to turn around the burden of their past. They took the land their mother’s cousin left them in Timber and started this ranch. A new beginning.” He shook his head. “Those three bring good to everything they touch.”

  “I believe that.” Zach put the cover back on the jar and tightened the lid. “How long have you been on Big Heart Ranch, Dutch?”

  “Oh, a while and a half, for sure.”

  “That long, huh?”

  Hand on the doorknob, Dutch hesitated before he headed out. “You know, I was just like you, once upon a time. Came for a visit and ended up staying.”

  Zach blinked at the bold statement. “I’m not staying. This is only temporary.”

  “Oh?” The old cowboy stared him down. “Just sticking around until you finish mending?”

  “My knee, you mean?”

  He shook his head and offered a sly smile. “Don’t take offense, but I got a feeling the good Lord put you in the path of Big Heart Ranch for a reason and it’s got nothing to do with your knee.” Dutch tapped his own chest and placed a hand over his heart as his gaze met Zach’s.

  Zach narrowed his eyes. “Though that isn’t my plan, I wouldn’t rule out the possibility.”

  A grin lit up Dutch’s face, and he offered a nod of respect. “I expected an argument.”

  “Not from me. I’ve learned to never say never. Life has tossed me into too many situations where my next move was completely a walk of faith.”

  “Wise man,” Dutch murmured.

  “I don’t know about that. Not so much wisdom as it is lots of experience making mistakes.” He rolled down the leg of his sweatpants. “Where’s that meeting I’m supposed to go to tonight?”

  “Meeting? It’s a party. One of the biggest of the year.”

  “Okay, where’s this mandatory fun I’m required to attend?”

  “Downtown Timber. Oklahoma Rose restaurant. Across from the Timber General Store. There’s a parking lot behind the restaurant. Might make it easier on your leg.”

  “Thanks.”

  The door closed softly and Zach pulled out a bandanna to wipe his hands while thinking about his conversation with the wrangler.

  Easier. He wasn’t handicapped. It was a simple knee injury. So he couldn’t jump out of planes anymore. That wasn’t a good enough reason for the world to keep trying to turn him into a desk jockey.