The Texas Rancher's Return. Allie Pleiter

development, sure to be the jewel in the DelTex crown once completed. Mr. Markham had been working on the project—which hadn’t even broken ground yet—for the better part of four years. Brooke’s presentation had dozens of bullet points about its potential positive impact on property tax revenues, schools and local commerce. In fact, the push to break ground on Ramble Acres was the main reason she’d been hired.

      Mr. Markham ran his fingers down a thin blue ribbon running across all three properties. “Here is what all the fuss is about. We need access to this water system as part of the Ramble Acres drainage plan—storm-water runoff, that sort of thing. Nothing chemical or even remotely detrimental to the land, just the ability to utilize the waterway. But it’ll swell that creek with all that water once everything’s up and running, so we need Buckton to sell us the creek and the land around it.”

      “And he won’t?” The answer to that question was pretty clear.

      “Not yet. He’s not budging, even though he’s got two other water sources on his ranch, and I know he could use the money. His neighbor Larkey has already said he’d sell. Only, because Larkey is downstream of Buckton, his yes doesn’t do us any of good without Buckton’s land.”

      “Sounds like a standoff.” She could easily see that happening, given the personalities involved.

      Mr. Marhkam pushed out a breath. “When Gunner Senior died, I thought maybe we could get through to Adele. She’s the kind of woman who can grasp the bigger picture, and quite honestly, I wasn’t even sure she’d keep the ranch. It would have been too much for her to run alone, and all her grandkids had scattered.”

      Now the pieces were fitting together. “And then Gunner Junior showed up?”

      Mr. Markham picked his finger up off the map to point it at Brooke. “He’s convinced I’m out to steal his land—all of it, not just the sliver we need—and there’s been no convincing him otherwise.” The businessman looked pointedly at Brooke. “Until now, maybe. I take the fact that he let you onto the ranch as a good sign. I hope you realize you are in a unique position to do a lot of good here.”

      He wasn’t wrong in his thinking. Brooke knew that many conflicts of this nature were best solved by a series of face-to-face meetings. Arranging such meetings was a large part of what she did best for DelTex. Ideas and corporations never solved problems as well as people sitting down and talking to each other. Only such sit-downs were often hard to accomplish when one—or both—of the parties dug in their heels, the way the Bucktons had done.

      “I’d like to help, sir, but have you met that man?” She shrugged, remembering Gunner’s glaring eyes. “I doubt I can convince him of anything.”

      “Oh, don’t doubt yourself. You’ve capitalized on a bit of good fortune and done what I haven’t been able to do—gotten a conversation started. That’s always the first step. I know you know how these things work—relationships first, agreements later.” He put a hand on her shoulder, walking them back to his desk. “Do you think you can take the open door you managed to get and crack it open a tiny bit farther? Do whatever you think will keep the lines of communication open—with either Gunner or Adele. Use whatever budget or resources you need, and fend some of the grunt work off to other staffers if you need to free up your time. Help us reach this goal, Brooke, and you’ll have proven yourself an invaluable asset to DelTex.”

      Up until this morning, Brooke hadn’t felt very important at DelTex—just another junior staff member trying to make a name for herself. Now Jace Markham was looking at her as if she had the makings of a key player. His regard kindled a glow of satisfaction Brooke hadn’t felt in a long time.

      In the two years since Jim’s death, Brooke had always felt as though she was just getting by, just eking out an existence. Maybe this year would be the time she’d finally start going somewhere, start setting a real career in motion, become the parent and provider that Audie needed her to be. Was it so far-fetched a notion that God sent Daisy into the road that day to launch a chain of events that might make a real difference in her life? In Audie’s? In the whole county by way of Ramble Acres? “Absolutely, boss,” she said, picking up her folders. “I’m ready to take on this challenge and show you what I’ve got.”

      * * *

      “Gunner, honey, come in here and look at this!”

      Gunner pushed his chair away from his desk—piled high this Wednesday morning with paperwork—and headed into the kitchen. There he found Gran at the computer he’d hooked up for her earlier this year. “Did you crash the hard drive again, Gran?”

      Gran pulled off her reading glasses to frown at Gunner. “I did no such thing. I’m reading my email.”

      Gran had asked for the computer so she could keep up with Gunner’s three younger siblings. Most days it was a good thing that Gran regularly corresponded with Gunner’s sisters, Ellie and Tess, and Tess’s twin brother, Luke. Other days, it just sent new reasons for everyone to stick their nose in his business, thanks to Gran’s incessant “updates.” I suppose I ought to be glad she hasn’t learned to text on a smartphone yet, Gunner told himself as he peered at the computer screen.

      “What is that?”

      Gran pshawed at him and swatted his shoulder. “It’s a drawing of Daisy. Anyone could see that.”

      Gunner squinted at the brown blob and noticed it had horns and feet. And a wide cartoon smile with pink hearts around its head. “Never seen a smile like that on our Daisy.”

      “You’d think you were never eight the way you talk. I changed your diapers, cowboy. Don’t you ever forget it.” Gran touched the screen. “This is a thank-you picture from Audie.”

      Brooke Calder now had their email addresses? That woman was even slicker than he’d thought.

      “I gave Audie my email address when she was here so she could get in touch if she had more questions. I like that girl’s gumption. She had her mother send over this picture this afternoon.” She pointed to the little girl in the drawing, who had a cartoon-style dialogue balloon over her head, reading “Thank You, Blue Thorn!” in scrawling third-grade letters. With the period on the exclamation mark made from a blue heart bearing a smiley face. “At least some young people today still remember their manners. And look, she even drew you.”

      Gran scrolled the screen and pointed to a tall figure wearing a cowboy hat—and a frown. The figure representing Gran was all smiles, holding a cane in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other. “Mom” and “Me” looked happy, too, with Brooke’s curls depicted as a halo of squiggly yellow lines.

      “She’s got you pegged, I’ll give her that.” Gran chuckled.

      “I was nice to her,” Gunner protested. “I didn’t frown...did I?”

      Gran looked up at him. “You didn’t smile, either. You mostly looked as if the whole thing hurt like a toothache.” She put a hand on Gunner’s shoulder. “You went from wild child to serious man. I think you ought to settle yourself somewhere in between, don’t you?”

      “This serious man has serious work to do. I can’t go around playing host to field trips.”

      “Oh, then you’re in trouble now.” Gran pursed her lips and then scrolled up to the email that topped the drawing. “Audie’s teacher is asking if the class can come visit.”

      The email included a message thanking Gunner, Gran and Billy for their hospitality and the contact information for Audie’s teacher, saying a Mrs. Cleydon was very interested in bringing the class out for a visit.

      He pinched the bridge of his nose where a headache was just now starting. “I knew this would happen.”

      Gran got that look in her eyes. The relentless one Gunner knew all too well. “You are going to say yes. I’m going to write her back right now and tell her we’d be delighted to host the class for an afternoon.”

      Gunner crossed his arms over his chest. “Didn’t