Home to Crossroads Ranch. Линда Гуднайт

told the Lord as much.

      Guy tweaked Emma under the chin and winked at Katie as he spoke to Rainy. “I was wondering if you would do a puppet presentation next week in Children’s Church.”

      “Love to,” Rainy said. One of her favorite ways of relating to kids was through puppets. “I’ve been working up a new skit about forgiveness.”

      “It’ll be great. Your stuff always is.”

      “Well, thanks. I try.” Since Katie’s arrival three months ago, she’d had less time to spend on her hobby, but puppeteering came naturally. She’d be ready.

      She expected Guy to take his leave. Instead, he cleared his throat, glanced toward the parking lot where cars were already departing, and said, “I’d like to invite the five of you out for Sunday dinner today if you don’t have other plans. To discuss the children’s ministry, I mean.”

      Rainy started to refuse, but then scoffed at the thought running through her head. Guy had clearly stated he wanted to discuss the children’s ministry, not start a relationship. Even if she didn’t find his company scintillating, they were friends and coworkers for Christ. When had she gotten so full of herself?

      “Later this afternoon we’re headed out to the country to see Nate Del Rio’s ranch,” she said, “but we have to eat first anyway. Right, kids?”

      While murmurs of excitement rippled from the kids, Guy said, “Del Rio? Do I know him?”

      “He attends Bible Fellowship, too. Part of the Handyman Ministry. He came to my rescue yesterday when a washer hose broke. I wrangled a visit for the kids to see the cows and horses.”

      Guy smiled. “Never miss a chance, do you?”

      Rainy smiled in return. Her friends knew about her complete dedication to foster care. “Nope. Not if I can help it.”

      Joshua tugged on Guy’s elbow.

      “Can we go to Golden Corral?” the boy asked, hopefully.

      Will scowled at his brother. “Shut up, Joshua. Don’t be asking for stuff.”

      Guy squeezed Will’s shoulder. “Golden Corral, here we come. A buffet is the best place for growing boys like you and me to get our bellies full. Right, Will?”

      The teasing brought a tentative smile from the slight-built Will. As one of the smallest boys in fifth grade, nothing could make him happier than to grow taller.

      “My car’s parked in the south lot,” Guy said, motioning in that direction. “Want to ride with me to the restaurant and I’ll drop you back here afterward?”

      Rainy was about to refuse, but the boys were already racing across the grass toward Guy’s vehicle.

      By the time they’d battled the long line at the restaurant, finished their meal and returned to the church, mid afternoon had arrived. Rainy was glad she’d gone, though, because the dinner had settled her mind about Guy’s interest. They really had talked only about the ministry and, of course, her foster children.

      With the kids anxious to get out to the ranch, they’d rushed back to the house, changed clothes and departed in record time. Rainy thought about giving Nate a quick call but then changed her mind. They’d agreed upon three o’clock. As reluctant as he’d been about letting the kids come, she was taking no chances. She would simply go as planned.

      With the kids glowing with excitement, she aimed her minivan toward Crossroads Ranch.

      With a sense of relief, an agitated Nate turned his truck beneath the crossbars of Crossroads Ranch. After an afternoon of trying to counsel Janine and Sal and listening to a dozen excuses about why they couldn’t get their lives together, home was a much needed refuge of peace. Now more than ever he was glad he’d had the foresight to leave a message on Rainy Jernagen’s answering machine, telling her not to come to the ranch.

      The thought had no more than formulated when he rounded the curve in the long driveway and saw a green minivan parked next to the fat cedar tree in his front yard. He frowned, not recognizing the vehicle. Oh, well, he wasn’t a hermit. He liked company. One of his buddies must have traded vehicles. All of them, it seemed, now had families. Everyone but him.

      Finishing off the last slurp of a fountain drink, he parked his Crew Cab next to the green van and hopped out, expecting Yo-Yo, his border collie, to come flying around the house in ecstatic excitement.

      The sun had disappeared, and clouds added a nip to the ever-present March wind. Still, the weather was pleasant and he considered taking the four-wheeler down to the fishing pond before dark. Bible Fellowship no longer had Sunday night service, urging its members, rather, to have family time.

      He’d had all the family time he wanted for one day, thank you.

      “Yo-Yo?” he called. No answer. Ah well, the dog must be outside somewhere with Pop.

      As his boots thudded against the long, ranch-style porch, the sound of voices caught his attention. They came from back toward the barns and outbuildings, so Nate hopped over the end railing and rounded the house.

      What he saw stopped him in his tracks. A groan escaped his throat.

      Standing on the corral fence feeding carrots to the horses were four kids, his grandpa and Rainy Jernagen. Yo-Yo gazed on with pink-tongued adoration.

      Nate looked heavenward, wondered if God was laughing at him or punishing him, and then stalked toward the giggling, wiggling, chattering group.

      Backs turned, they didn’t notice his approach. He planted his boots, his hands on hips and growled, “I guess you didn’t get my message.”

      Six heads swiveled his direction. Yo-Yo leaped to his feet.

      Nate’s scowl must have startled everyone except Pop, because he was the only one who spoke. Lowering his foot from the fence rail, his grandpop said, “Nate, boy, you made it back.”

      Obviously. “What’s going on out here?”

      “Rainy brought the children for a tour. Said you invited them.”

      No use explaining to Pop that Rainy had twisted his arm until he’d yelled “uncle.”

      “She told me what you done to help her yesterday,” Pop said. “When the young ones got scared. Mighty nice of you.”

      Nate recalled squatting in front of a dark closet, assuring a shaking boy and girl that he was big and he could protect them. It was a lie. He couldn’t protect anyone, but they’d come crawling out anyway, trusting him, messing with his heart.

      “I called,” he said, turning his attention to the guilty party. “Didn’t you get my message?”

      Rainy hopped down from the fence, dusting her fingertips together in a feminine gesture that didn’t accomplish a thing but sure looked cute. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked fresh and pretty in jeans, sneakers and a blue hoodie that matched her eyes.

      “What message?” she asked, smiling at him despite his obvious irritation.

      “I left a message on your machine. Told you not to come, because I wouldn’t be here.”

      One of her slender shoulders hitched.

      “Sorry. I didn’t get any message.” She didn’t look sorry at all. Neither did the kids, who now huddled around her, eyes wide as they stared between Rainy and him.

      “Don’t matter anyway, Nate boy,” Pop said. “I’ve had a fine time showing them around. I’d forgot how much I enjoy having kids running around the place.” His grandpa winked at Rainy. “Even if they are greenhorns.”

      As if the two were old friends, Rainy made a face at Pop and then said, “Your ranch is really beautiful, Nate. And so big. Your granddad was kind enough to drive us over the fields in the hay truck.”

      “We seen baby cows,