Worth the Wait (Last Hope Ranch Book 2)

by Amanda McIntyre

  “I hope so. I just saw the news about a wildfire that started earlier southwest of Denver,” Julie said. “I wasn’t sure if I should—”

  “Wait, this is good. Could you please turn it up?” Hank kept one eye on the screen. “I’m seeing the report now, honey.” A map of the area appeared on screen.

  “Officials aren’t saying as yet what they feel started the fire. With no storms or lightning in the area, it’s suspected to be accidental—or maybe arson. And the drought that’s been plaguing this area the past few weeks is not helping firefighters,” the newscaster said.

  Hank focused again on Julie. “Have you heard from Kyle?”

  “Not a word since he left,” she said.

  Hank held back a frustrated sigh. “The camp is miles from where the fires are,” he assured her. “You can bet those leaders are keeping a close eye on things.”

  “I’ve tried calling,” Julie said. “I remember reading that the boys’ cell phones might be out of range once they get up there in the mountains.”

  “Just stay close to the phone,” Hank said. “They’re Scouts. Always prepared, right?”

  “I suppose. I’d feel better if I could hear from him that he’s okay,” she said.

  “There’s a good chance he’ll call if he can get a signal. He’s trying to be like the other guys.”

  “You mean, who also aren’t calling their parents?”

  “They’re kind of at that age, Jules. No longer a child, not quite a man.”

  “Maybe you could try?”

  “Oh, I’d already planned on it, honey,” Hank replied. “And I’ll let you know the minute I hear anything.”

  “Thank you, Hank,” she said, her voice softer now.

  “Hang in there. It’s going to be fine.” He waited a heartbeat, hoping she’d mention the guy living next door…in his cabin.

  She released a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “I need to run. Chris and I have an appointment.”

  “Okay.” No mention of the stranger. The connection ended.

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” Cynthia asked.

  Hank sat for a moment, trying to stay calm, rational—just as he’d suggested to Julie. He looked from one to the other. “I may need to leave early. My fiancée’s son is at a Scout camp near Denver and, understandably given the wildfires, she’s concerned.” He had a sudden thought. “Pete,” he said, not realizing he’d done so aloud.

  Jake frowned. “Who’s Pete?”

  “Pete Taylor,” Hank said. “You remember him from chem lab?”

  Jake thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “You mean that guy who used to get caught like every other month setting off rockets in the middle of campus?” He shook his head. “The guy was a bona fide pyromaniac.”

  “Yeah, that guy took his skills and runs the smokejumpers training camp near Denver. We trained there the summer after I graduated. I didn’t stay in, but Pete went on to make a career out of fighting fires. If anyone knows what’s going on, it’s him.” Hank stood and tucked his phone in his pocket. “I’ll give him a call, then fly home and talk to Julie.”

  “We’ll take care of things here.” Cynthia patted his shoulder. “You go do what you have to do and I hope everything is okay.”

  Jake slapped him on the back. “Wildcats forever, man. Anything you ever need, just call,” he said.

  ***

  She was trying to keep it together, struggling to trust in what Hank had said. No news is good news, she’d told herself. They are smart enough, if necessary, to evacuate those kids and then notify their parents.

  Julie had turned her phone to vibrate so as not to interrupt Chris’s session with Reverend Cook.

  “You know, Chris, life is all about choices,” Reverend Cook said. “Circumstances, our experiences, all can determine our choices—whether that’s for the good or bad.”

  She heard her young son’s audible sigh. He’d been dealing with anger issues stemming from the verbal abuse he’d received from his father, and exacerbated by the violent domestic standoff when his father had held them hostage.

  Julie had only recently convinced him to visit with the reverend about his experience. Julie hadn’t been to church in years, But Reverend Leslie Cook, pastor at the First Church of Christ in End of the Line, was no ordinary minister. She’d served a short time as chaplain in the military and had traveled to a number of VA hospitals across the Midwest before accepting the position at the church. Raised by her divorced, single mom, she’d watched her mother battle depression, and she understood teenage anger. Glad that Clay had suggested her, Julie formed an immediate bond with the woman, who’d told her that she believed Providence had brought her to End of the Line. It was clear Reverend Cook knew a thing or two about making choices.

  Julie fought not to check her phone as she waited for Hank to call. It was the reverend’s only request…that she shut off all cell phones during sessions.

  “I believe we’re given a free will. All of us—me, your mom, and you. Now, with that comes a lot of responsibility, because our choices can also create consequences.”

  Chris’s expression remained solemn. He sat slumped in his seat, occasionally tapping his fingers on the chair arm. He’d been silent thus far, but he straightened now and cleared his throat. “What I hear you saying is if I hate my dad, it’s not a good thing—not the Christian thing to do, right?” Chris asked.

  Reverend Cook regarded the boy, darting a quick glance at Julie before she spoke. “You know, Chris, I’m not here to tell you how you should live your life—how you should feel or whether that makes you a good Christian or not. Being a good person has nothing to do with being a Christian—it’s a reflection of the spirit within us. In and of ourselves, not a one of us is perfect, or without sin, for that matter.”

  Chris snorted.

  “But here’s the thing,” the pastor continued. “You don’t have to agree with what someone does, or how they act. It’s really about how you react that matters.”

  Chris looked puzzled.

  “Let me explain. Those things you hate most, that are making you so angry, are robbing you of seeing and enjoying the good things—the blessings, if you will—in your life. Do you understand what I’m saying?” she asked.

  Chris chewed on his lip as though thinking things through. “I think so.”

  Julie’s heart twisted. The reverend’s words hit close to home. Being with Hank, enjoying his company, was safe. It made her happy. But it was easier to keep him at arm’s length, protecting her heart from being hurt again. Fear had kept her from seeing some of the real blessings she had right in front of her.

  She stood and took the seat next to her son. “May I say something?”

  Reverend Cook nodded, her smile kind.

  Julie turned to her son. “I’ve just this moment realized how much I’ve been allowing my fears to keep me from seeing what’s good in my life.” She looked closely at her son, realizing he stood on the brink of becoming a teen, an age in which kids rely on stability as much as they rebel against it. She searched his eyes—eyes that had seen the worst, experienced a betrayal of trust from someone he should’ve been able to count on. “Neither you, Kyle, nor me are to blame for your father’s choices.” She covered his hand with hers. “Nor do we have to live our lives as victims of his choices.”

  Chris seemed to study her. She saw the moment wisdom and understanding flickered across his features. “Does that mean you’re finally going to marry Hank?”

  Julie’s breath caught. She looked at the pastor, who cocked her head as though to challenge her response.

  Julie looked at her son. “I suppose I’ve been afraid to commit.”

  “Ya think, Mom?” Kyle said. “Just so you know, because you’ve never asked—I think Hank is pretty cool. We really like him. And to be honest, Mom, Kyle and I don’t understand why you keep putting off getting married. It would be great to be a family.”

  A light switched on in Julie’s h
ead. “Has that made you angry?” she asked.

  Chris shrugged. “Not so much angry, just really confused. I mean, come on, Mom, we know where he sleeps when he’s at the ranch.”

  Julie glanced at the pastor and felt her cheeks warm.

  Reverend Cook held up her palms. “Not judging.”

  “Hank is a really good guy. We think he’d make a great dad. I don’t get that, if we see it, why don’t you?”

  Maybe it had taken a child to lead her to the truth. “I’m not really sure I ever thought about when or if I might marry.”

  “Chris,” the reverend said, “there’s a small fridge with sodas just outside my office. Why don’t you grab one and give your mom and I a moment?”

  “To talk, right?” He stood and started towards the door, but made a quick U-turn and hugged his mom around the shoulders before he left.

  Julie sat in stunned silence, grappling with this revelation. All this time, she’d assumed her son’s frustration was directed solely towards his father. It never occurred to her that her behavior might also play a role.

  “So, how’d you feel about that?” Reverend Cook asked.

  Julie let the information sink in. Certainly, they’d all needed time to get past the initial trauma of what had happened to them, but her boys had been watching, perhaps more carefully than she thought, how she treated Hank. Had she been leading him on until something better came along? It appalled her to think she was capable of such a thing. “My first thought is how blind I’ve been.” Julie met the pastor’s gaze.

  “Give yourself a little grace, Julie,” Reverend Cook said. “You’ve had a lot to deal with. Sometimes fear lies to us, telling us we’re protecting ourselves or others when really it’s keeping us from accepting the gifts placed in front of us.”

  “I feel like I’ve been so unfair to Hank,” Julie said.

  “Well, I’m not advocating that you jump into marriage, certainly not out of guilt or obligation.” She leaned forward, folding her arms on the desk. “Or if you truly have concerns.” She lifted a brow. “But, if you love the man, if he’s good to your kids and they like him, if he wants to partner with you to offer a stable family life, then I’d have to ask…what are you waiting for? What are you afraid of here, Julie?”

  “Being hurt?” Julie said, realizing that her fear was unfounded. Hank was a good man, an excellent lover, a good friend, and he’d make a great dad to her boys—all-in-all a wonderful life partner.

  Reverend Cook smiled. “I can’t guarantee that any relationship won’t result in one or both parties getting their feelings hurt once in a while. I think the key here is whether you feel Hank is the kind of person that you can talk it through and be okay with at the other end.” She shrugged. “Hank has always impressed me as being a reliable, grounded guy. I suspect that’s part of why you fell for him. Am I right?”

  Julie’s chin quivered, a lump rising in her throat. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. “Yeah, I never stopped to think about it.” She nodded. “And for so many other reasons that I’m just waking up to.”

  Reverend Cook sat back and smiled at her. “You know, my calendar is pretty clear the next couple of months. Nobody has scheduled any weddings around here.” She flipped through her desk day-planner and glanced at Julie.

  ***

  With much on her mind, and still no word from Hank, Julie did a quick scan of her checklist as she waited for all of her committee chairs to arrive at the diner, quiet now that the lunch crowd had parted.

  Betty had just placed on the table a plate of fresh cookies sent over from Rebecca at the bakery and a tray with hot coffee and mugs. She settled in a chair and pulled a pencil from her blond beehive hairdo and looked at Julie, poised to take notes.

  Coach Justin Reed slid into a chair and immediately reached for a mug and a couple of cookies. “I didn’t get lunch today. Planned to order something after the meeting. I say eat dessert first.” He smiled and wolfed down one and then another of the warm chocolate chip cookies.

  Sally hurried in, placed her notebook on the table. “Hey, I’m here, it’s just that…well, you’ll have to excuse me a moment. Be right back.” She hurried around the corner without further explanation.

  Julie met Betty’s curious gaze as she poured Julie a cup of coffee and handed it to her. “Nan and Wyatt are the only ones left.”

  Julie hadn’t seen or spoken to Nan in a couple of days, not since they’d discovered the unexpected letter amongst her husband’s military possessions.

  Julie waited a few moments, hoping Nan would show. She’d decided that, if necessary, she would take over the veterans’ float responsibilities. “I guess we’ll go ahead, then,” Julie said, starting the meeting. She’d promised her son pizza and a movie tonight and she aimed to keep her promise. “Coach Reed? How are the plans coming for the rodeo?”

  Justin Reed, a transplant along with his wife and son from Atlanta, now ran a horse ranch just north of town. He was also the head coach of the Varsity football team at End of the Line High school. Justin checked his notebook, his preferred form of checklist as opposed to a smartphone app. “Wednesday night after the parade, we’ve got mutton busting and a junior rodeo lined up for the younger kids. Nothing dangerous.” He glanced at Julie. “Your brother mentioned your concerns. I promise, they’ll be well padded and wear helmets.”

  “Thank you,” Julie said, making note to smack Clay upside the head next time she saw him.

  “Thursday will be the crowning of the rodeo king and queen, followed by the tractor pull event and the best cattle dog show.” He flipped a page and continued. “Friday, I’ve lined up a local band and Dusty has agreed to put up a beer tent, providing we can get the proper permits from the city council…might have a guy who can wrangle up some nice fireworks for one of the nights.”

  Julie was impressed at the amount of organization that he’d done. “With all you’ve planned for the weekdays, how on earth do you plan to top that on Saturday?”

  Justin grinned. “We’ll have the cook-off that morning, while the farmers market and artists are downtown. In the afternoon we’re going to have some friendly barrel racing by some of the best on the circuit. And following that, an amateur bronc riding contest. One-hundred-dollars entry fee, per contestant, with the purse going to a local charity. I thought we could bounce around a few ideas for a worthy recipient.”

  Betty applauded. “Well done, Coach. You’re quite good at this.”

  Justin offered a sheepish look and grinned. “I can’t take all the credit. Georgia has some heavy-duty connections through some of the people she met at the bar we have down in Atlanta. She’s been bustin’ my chops to stay on top of this.”

  “I knew I liked that girl.” Betty smiled. She looked at Julie.

  “Nan’s next, but we could skip over her and go to you, Betty, since Nan’s not here yet.”

  “She’s just running a bit late,” Betty said. “She’ll be along any minute.”

  Julie wasn’t entirely convinced. She made a mental note to go check on her after the meeting. “Please, go ahead, Betty.”

  “Well,” Betty began with a pleased smile, “we’ve gotten over fifteen local entries and at least three from Billings. We’re charging a twenty-five-dollar entry fee and I wanted to see what you all thought of selling off servings of the entries with all proceeds going to the county food pantry.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Julie said, making a note on her list.

  “Jerry and I have talked about this and we’d like to offer breakfast every morning of the festival. You know, a variety of breakfast sandwiches, burritos, hash browns, and juice and coffee, of course. We’d like to donate proceeds from that to Miss Ellie’s shelter down in Billings.”

  Sally clasped her hands together and smiled. “Betty, that is amazing. Ellie will be thrilled.”

  “That woman has done so much for us here in this community. It seems only right we do the same for her,” Betty said.

  Julie
had heard about Miss Ellie, but hadn’t had the chance to get to know her well. But her reputation was well-known among many in End of the Line. She’d been integral in helping Angelique out of a dangerously abusive relationship. Angelique’s story was tumultuous. Nearly killed by her ex, she’d survived and found happiness with Dalton Kinnison, her first love, along with their daughter, Emilee.

  Ellie had also been crucial in securing a permanent home for Cody, a young boy whose drug-addicted mother’s life was tragically ended in a deal gone bad.

  Rein and Liberty had fostered the child, applied for his adoption, and, soon after, the three became a family.

  “That sounds wonderful, Betty.” Julie read over her notes for the veterans’ float and again tried to quell her concern for Nan.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had breakfast with Gwen,” Nan said, scooting into the empty chair between Justin and Sally.

  Chapter Six

  Hank had waited through three rings, his phone propped under his chin as he multi-tasked, packing his bags. He was about to hang up when a woman came on the line.

  “Denver Smokejumper Training Camp. Mr. Taylor’s office,” she said.

  “I’d like to speak with Pete Taylor, please,” Hank said, taking hold of the phone. They hadn’t spoken in some time. After graduation, Pete had talked Hank into going out to Colorado and training as a wildland firefighter. Both had possessed the physical requirements and, despite being called every synonym for “lunatic” by friends and family members, both had persevered. There, Hank had discovered his love for planes and had considered pursuing a career flying the big airtankers or carrying smokejumpers into places where the firefighters couldn’t go.

  “May I ask who’s calling?” the receptionist said.

  “Hank Richardson.”

  “One moment, please.”

  His father had been livid. His mother couldn’t understand why her only son would choose such a life-threatening profession, given they’d both expected him to take his place in the vice-president’s office across the hall at his father’s business.

  “They pay people to risk life and limb like that?” his mother had asked. “You couldn’t pay me enough to leap into a forest fire.”