“That’s her,” Jules answered. “What do you think?”
Bridey frowned. “I don’t know much about horses, so I’ve no opinion on that. But boys?” Her face brightened when she smiled again. “That’s something I have experience with, and she seems to be getting on with this lot.”
They watched while Nikki wrapped up the lesson, sent the boys on their way, then turned to walk toward the fence. “They’re eager to start riding,” she announced before she reached them.
“Oh, my,” Bridey whispered.
“What’s wrong?” Jules asked.
“Why, nothing. Just that I—” Bridey shook her head. “I’m sure they’re very eager. Boys have so little patience.”
“And don’t have a lot more as men,” Jules added, laughing.
But Bridey’s sunny smile looked forced to Mac. Was there something about Nikki’s Native American heritage that bothered her? That couldn’t be. Not when her nephew and great-nephew were part Cherokee.
As Jules made the introductions, Bridey seemed relaxed, but she watched Nikki closely. Before Mac could give it more thought, Kirby shouted for Nikki. She excused herself and hurried to see what he needed.
“Do the boys like her?” Bridey asked.
“So far she’s handling them well,” Mac answered.
“Then I hope she stays with us. Jules has enough on her hands, and I’m certain you could use the help, too.”
“Especially when we add more boys,” Jules agreed. “I think they’ll all do better once Tanner and Dusty return with the new horses. It will give the boys something to focus on.”
But Mac wasn’t listening. He was watching Nikki with Kirby. She had knelt to the boy’s level and was talking to him. When she finished, she gave him a hug before standing again and then put an arm around his shoulders. Mac again had to admit she had a flair with the boys. They had all accepted her, more or less, but Kirby was obviously her favorite, and Mac almost felt jealous about the way she easily dealt with the boys.
Chapter Three
Even though it was Saturday and technically her day off, Nikki offered to work. After making sure the boys were occupied when lunch was over, she headed for the main building. It was the perfect time to look over the boys’ files and get to know their backgrounds and the reasons they were living at the ranch.
At the door to the office, she pulled out the set of keys Mac had given her. It took two of the keys to get her into the inner office where she found the file cabinet, and she unlocked that with the last of the keys on the ring. Settling on the chair at the small desk, she opened the first file and started reading.
There were moments when she wanted to cry over what she read. In spite of her mother being overprotective and unwilling to share information about the past, her childhood had been full of wonderful memories, and she’d always felt loved by her mother and grandmother. That hadn’t been the case for some of the boys. The older ones, Benito and Leon, were at the ranch under judges’ orders. Both had been involved in petty thefts of some kind, in addition to vandalism, but she suspected even that was based on poor home lives. Benito was the oldest of eight children, and there was a history of domestic violence in the family. Leon’s mother was on her fourth husband, with little time for her three sons and daughter.
Nikki sighed as she continued to read. Shamar had lived with an aunt who didn’t like being saddled with a boy to raise and had left him to fend for himself much of the time. Ray’s parents had vanished, and his older brothers and sisters had taken turns caring for him, but with some of them serving time in jail, he was shuffled back and forth. Billy had been in foster care since he was two, shuttled from one home to another, but never able to bond with anyone.
But it was Kirby’s story that brought a tear to her eye. Two years before, his mother had died of pneumonia, leaving him to live with his father. A few months before coming to the Bent Tree, Kirby had been found roaming the streets of Oklahoma City, and his father, who’d claimed despondency over his wife’s death, had been charged with neglect. There was still a chance Kirby would be returned to his father, and Nikki sensed that might not be a good thing.
She’d worked in intake at Youth Services and had heard stories that broke her heart. Many of the children she’d worked with had gone on to foster care or to live with relatives. Some had been adopted. She knew there was never a guarantee that life would be better for any of them, and she was grateful for the Bent Tree—one more place for some of them to live and grow.
When she finished reading the last of the files, she rubbed the back of her neck, which ached from sitting too long. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was much later than she’d thought, and she hurried to put things away and lock up again. Knowing the history of the boys and how bad it had been for them, she wanted to do something special. She had an idea, but it would take Mac’s help to do it.
She went in search of him and finally found him in the barn, scooping what was left of the grain from the storage bin into the trailer hooked to a garden tractor. “Can I talk to you?” she asked.
Stopping his work, he rested his hands on top of the handle of the grain scoop. “What about?”
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she quickly tried to dismiss the idea that it might be because his eyes looked bluer than ever, or that his shirt, damp with sweat, stuck to him like a second skin. “Could you use some help with that?” she asked.
Shrugging, he handed her the shovel, then reached for another for himself. “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about? Helping?”
She began scooping, thinking of her plan. “Of course not. I want to do something special for the boys.”
“Such as?”
“A campfire.”
He looked at her. “Campfire?” When she nodded, he blew out a breath.
She worked for several more minutes, avoiding his gaze as he silently watched her.
“What’s your problem?” he asked, setting aside the shovel and planting his hands on his hips, his legs spread wide as she rubbed her arms.
“No problem,” she answered, switching the grain shovel to her other hand so she could rub that arm. Her allergies were kicking in. The itching was getting worse.
He frowned, watching every move she made, which made her more nervous and caused an even bigger need to scratch. “I’m serious, Nikki. You’ve been rubbing your arms and legs, and your face has red splotches on it. Not only is it making me itch, it isn’t at all attractive.”
She guessed the last was his attempt at humor, but she didn’t smile. Hating to admit a weakness, she knew she had to tell him. “It’s the grain dust. I’m allergic to it.”
The furrow between his eyes deepened. “Then why did you offer to help?”
She couldn’t look him in the eye. “I figured it couldn’t hurt.”
He took the scoop from her hand. “Next time, just get to the point. What can be done for the itching?”
“A shower should do the trick,” she answered.
He nodded. “When do you want to do this campfire thing?”
“Tonight,” she answered. “After supper. I’ll see if Bridey has some marshmallows they can roast.”
He at least seemed to be considering the idea. “All right,” he said after a short silence. “I’ll get it set up for you, but you’d better make sure you have plenty of marshmallows. One bag isn’t going to be enough for those boys.”
Pleased that he was willing to help, she hurried to the main building and unlocked the door to her apartment, eager to wash off the offending grain dust.
Inside, she went into her bedroom, where she grabbed fresh clothes on her way to the bathroom.
The spray from the shower was not only cleansing, it was relaxing. When she was done, she stepped out, wrapped herself and her freshly shampooed hair in towels and felt much better. She took her time dressing in clean jeans and a gauzy top with colorful embroidery before drying her long, straight hair.
She checked on the bo
ys again and stopped to watch the four older ones playing basketball. Kirby and Ray sat on the ground on the far side of the court, intent on the half-court game.
“Are you Nikki?”
She turned, shading her eyes with her hand against the late-afternoon sun to see an older boy she guessed to be about seventeen or eighteen walking toward her. “Yes, I’m Nikki.”
“I’m Shawn. Tanner’s my uncle,” he said as he came to a stop in front of her. “I’ve been staying with a friend in town while we worked on a science project.”
Her breath caught. Tucker’s son? She hadn’t been able to find much information on the younger of her two brothers and hoped Shawn wouldn’t notice her surprise or that she was near tears. “It’s nice to meet you, Shawn,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice friendly without going overboard. “I was just getting ready to go up to the house to find Bridey.”
“Aunt Bridey and Jules went into town. Can I help with something?”
She shook her head, disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to ask Bridey about the marshmallows. “Probably not. We’re having a campfire after supper tonight, and I was going to ask if there were any marshmallows. If Mac won’t mind keeping an eye on the boys, maybe I can run into town to get some.”
“You don’t need to,” Shawn assured her. “I’ll go call them and ask them to bring back a few bags.”
Nikki couldn’t have been happier. “That would be great, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“No trouble.”
“Would you like to join us tonight?”
“Thanks, but I only stopped at home to get some supplies for our project. And I need to get going as soon as I call Jules and let her know about the marshmallows.”
Nikki nodded and thanked him for his help, then forced herself to turn back to the boys, instead of waiting for her nephew—her nephew!—to walk away. “Hey, guys!” she shouted over the whoops and hollers of their basketball game. “Make sure you listen for the supper bell and are on time. When we’ve finished eating, we’ll meet in the circle of trees.”
When she was certain they’d all heard her, she started for the main building. She hoped Mac didn’t mind setting up the campfire, but she felt sure if he needed her help, he’d ask for it.
Jules had already planned to share the supper with the boys, so Nikki was on her own. Stopping in the kitchen, Nikki made a sandwich and took it back to her room, eating it while she worked on a riding schedule. She’d just finished when there was a knock on her door. Opening it, she found Mac.
“I’ll be right out to help with the campfire,” she told him.
“You don’t need to. It’s almost ready. You can start as soon as I get the fire going.” He glanced at his watch. “Shouldn’t be too long.”
“You’re joining us, right?” she asked. “I mean, after all, you’ve done all of the work, and I’m sure the boys would like it if you’re there.”
“I suppose I can.” He raked his gaze over her. “With the sun down, there’s a chill in the air. A jacket might be a good idea.”
She watched him walk away. She would have to find a way to ignore his long glances. Her skin had prickled with that one, and she couldn’t blame it on grain dust.
“ARE YOU SURE there isn’t something I can do to help?”
Mac looked up from the fire he was tending to find Nikki standing beside him. With a nod of his head, he indicated a large pile of firewood several yards away. “You can grab another log or two.”
He was tempted to watch her walk away, but decided he should try to curb that kind of urge, and focused on the fire instead. Give it another week, he told himself. By then there’d be something he didn’t like about her, and she’d be out of his system.
“I see you brought some straw bales,” she said from behind him.
He turned, took the armload of logs she held and placed them on the small blaze. “I don’t want the boys getting too close to the fire.”
“Good idea, and the bales will keep them off the cold ground. But you’ve gone to a lot of work. I should have been out here helping.”
Shrugging, he moved away a few steps. Whatever perfume she was wearing was enticing, and he knew better than to let that distract him. “You had things to do. I was free.” He hadn’t minded the extra work, but he wouldn’t tell her that. She might think he was open to helping with the boys whenever the whim struck her. He wasn’t. He didn’t know how to relate to them, and it wasn’t his job to know. He’d stick with what he knew—horses.
Once the blaze was going well, the boys began to appear. First Kirby hurried to claim the space next to Nikki, followed by Ray, his bunk mate, who chose the bale next to them. Billy scooted in by himself and chose to sit with Ray. To keep the bales far enough from the fire, Mac had spaced them a few feet apart. He also hoped it would keep the poking and punching between the boys to a minimum. He hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be a boy at that age.
After Shamar and Leon arrived to claim the last bale, Benito trailed in and took the empty spot beside Mac, who had a clear view of the younger boys; the older ones were within reach, just in case they decided to play some tricks.
With Nikki there, Mac hoped the boys would all be on their best behavior.
The marshmallows Bridey had given him were distributed, along with the sticks he’d found, and the boys settled in, telling the usual horror tales of clawed hands on door handles and missing teens. Across from Mac, Kirby huddled against Nikki, his eyes wide, while the firelight threw eerie shadows across his dark face. Watching them, Mac wondered if Kirby’s growing attachment to her was wise, but then it wasn’t his problem either way.
He turned to Benito beside him, knowing he couldn’t sit there in silence. “How are you getting along with Nikki?”
The boy shrugged his broad shoulders. “She’s okay.”
“I noticed she kind of showed you that there are still things left to learn before getting on a horse.”
Benito was silent for a moment. “I just figured you got on, kicked the horse and off you rode. That’s how they do it in the movies.”
“And the bad guy always loses in the movies,” Mac pointed out. “But movies aren’t real life.”
The nearly grown boy turned and looked him square in the eye. “That’s easy for you to say.”
Mac had no reply. He’d had nearly everything he’d ever wanted. The best education, two parents who loved him, and wealth. What had Benito had?
The fire began to die down along with the conversation, and Mac decided it was time to call it a night. “Shamar,” he called to the biggest of the group, “help me move these bales under the trees, while the rest of the boys clean up the area.”
Shamar grumbled, but did as he was asked. When he and Mac were away from the others, he turned to him. “How come you picked me to do this? Don’t like the color of my skin?”
Mac pointed to the boy’s chest. “Your shirt says ‘Mr. Awesome.’ I thought you’d be the best man for the job.”
Shamar stared at him. “It’s a T-shirt, man.”
“Billboard of the century, they say,” Mac answered with a shrug. “Now, are you going to show me how awesome you are and help with the rest of the bales?”
Turning around to see what the others were doing, Shamar grunted. “It beats picking up sticks and trash.”
By the time they finished with the bales, the area was cleaner than it had been when they’d begun the evening, and the boys were beginning to wander back to their bunkhouses. Mac tossed the dirt he’d dug up earlier onto the fire, stirred the embers with a shovel to make sure there weren’t any live ones, then poured water from a bucket on it all, stirring again, until he was sure everything was cool. With shovel and bucket in hand, he looked around and saw that everyone was gone.
After stowing the campfire gear, he headed for his apartment and let himself inside. His sitting room was quiet, and he suddenly felt at loose ends. With Tanner and Dusty gone, Jules had been the only one around t
o talk to, but she had her own work and her family, and he didn’t want to bother her. She and Tanner had done enough for him already.
As he was straightening a painting of the Thames he’d purchased on a trip to Great Britain, he felt the presence of someone. Turning, he saw Nikki standing at his open doorway. He’d forgotten to close the door.
“You brought your own furniture,” she said. “It’s very nice.”
Should he ask her in? He couldn’t decide. It might only fuel his attraction to her. But he also knew a gentleman would at least offer.
Before he could decide, she’d moved across the hall to her door. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she told him, her hand on the doorknob. “Thank you for helping.”
He didn’t have a chance to reply before she ducked inside her apartment.
He stood in his doorway, wondering what she was all about. He was tempted to get to know her better, but if he didn’t know himself, as he once had, how could he even think of getting to know someone else?
NIKKI PUSHED AWAY from the breakfast table the next morning and stood, surveying the sleepy faces of the boys. “I want to see all of you at the corral in ten minutes,” she told them as they finished their breakfast.
“But it’s Sunday,” Benito reminded her. “We were going to play basketball.”
“You can do that this afternoon,” she answered. “I’ll see you all in ten minutes, no more.”
She hadn’t slept well. Her dreams had been of a tall man with baby-blue eyes—a man she didn’t want to identify, and she shook her head to clear the cobwebs that even a shower hadn’t washed away. Shivering in the early-morning chill, she gathered the equipment she would need. The remnants of her dreams would vanish as soon as she started the day’s lesson.
When she entered the corral, she was greeted by the smiles of six boys. Nothing could beat that.
Instead of a using a real horse for the day’s lesson, she’d found an old saddle frame in the storage room of the barn. To make it the right height, she’d asked Mac to set it on concrete blocks. Only after all the boys mastered saddling the wooden “horse” would she allow them to try the real thing. She was confident it wouldn’t be long until that happened.
The Reluctant Wrangler Page 4
