The Cowboy Way. Christine Wenger

and gently placed him in the front seat of his pickup—and Kevin was no lightweight by any means. She had heard him catch his breath after he straightened his back, and she had seen him grimace. He also had a noticeable limp. Bull riding was taking a heavy toll on him.

      No doubt his drinking didn’t help matters, either. That was something that wasn’t mentioned in the magazines.

      Her hands tightened into fists. She had heard all that she’d wanted to hear outside the airport. “You’re a drunk, and you hurt my son.”

      Those same words had been running through her mind when she stood at Brad’s grave and while Kevin endured one operation after another.

      She wrapped an arm around her son’s shoulder and pulled him closer to her. She hadn’t protected him from his own father, but she would protect him from Jake Dixon.

      Her heart sank as she thought about the Wheelchair Rodeo program and how it was to start in two days. The literature she had received indicated that Jake had started the program, and he saw to everything personally.

      How was she going to trust him with Kevin?

      “Okay, Mom?” Kevin asked, breaking through her reverie.

      “Hmm? What?” she asked.

      “Jake said that he’d show me around the ranch when we get there. And that I can pick out my own horse from the remuda. Hear that, Mom? The remuda. And I get to take care of my horse all week!”

      “That’s great,” she mumbled without enthusiasm. How was she going to tell her son that she didn’t want him near his hero?

      “Okay, Mom?”

      She needed time to think. She wanted to know more about the real Jake Dixon. She wanted to observe him. She didn’t want to hand her son over to him and trust him, the way she had trusted Brad. Not with what she had just heard about him.

      Jake must have seen her hesitation.

      “I’ll take good care of Kevin. And you’re welcome to come along. Right, Kev?”

      Her stomach clenched. No one ever called him Kev, except Brad.

      “Yeah, c’mon, Mom. Come with us.”

      She could never say no to Kevin when he looked at her with those big brown eyes. And she didn’t want to throw a wet blanket on his excitement. Maybe it was unfair of her to compare Jake to Brad.

      “Sure. I’d love to,” she reluctantly agreed.

      “Yippee!” Kevin shouted.

      The two of them went back to talking about who rode what bull for a ninety-point ride, and who was on the injured list. From the look on Jake’s rugged face, Kevin’s knowledge about the sport surprised him. If only Kevin were that good in English and math.

      She laid her head back on the seat of the big truck and listened to their conversation. Kevin was bubbly and happy, and Jake was adding to his excitement, so much so that it was almost contagious.

      “There it is! The Gold Buckle Ranch!” Kevin shouted. “It’s a real ranch!”

      A slender, pretty woman in jeans and a navy-blue sweatshirt stood waving on the front porch of a log ranch house. Beside her was a tall, handsome man in jeans and a flannel shirt. They both had warm, welcoming smiles.

      “My folks,” Jake said. “Em and Dex Dixon.”

      She and Kevin waved back.

      Dex opened the truck door and helped her out. “Welcome to the Gold Buckle, Beth.” He bent his head to peer inside the truck. “And this young cowboy must be Kevin.”

      “Yessir!” Kevin said.

      Kevin scooted to the end of the seat, and Beth let out a gasp when it looked as if he might just jump down from the truck.

      “Whoa, young man!” Dex said. “Hang on there.”

      Jake already had Kevin’s chair and the two men were helping Kevin out when Emily gathered Beth in a hearty hug.

      “It’s so nice to meet you. I feel like I know you already from Kevin’s letter,” Emily said.

      Beth let herself relax and enjoy the warm greeting. There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t wish she had a mother who would hug her like that and who she could talk to and confide in, especially now, when she was so worried about Kevin. But Carla Tisdale Phillips O’Brien Fontelli had never been that kind of mother, and she never hugged.

      “Welcome, Kevin!” Emily said as the boy beamed up at her. She bent down and gave him a hug too. “I have you in the Trail Boss Cabin. That’s the far one in those big pine trees. It has a lot of privacy. Now come into my kitchen for a bite to eat, and Jake will drop your bags inside the cabin. That okay with you, Jake?”

      “Sure.”

      “Then come back for a bite to eat when you’re done,” she added.

      “I have to talk to Joe and check on the mustang. Then I’ll be in,” Jake replied. “After that, I promised Kevin that he could pick out his horse for the week. Then I’m going to show him and his mom around the ranch.”

      He looked at Beth and tweaked his hat brim. She watched as he walked away. His limp was more prominent now. His shirt didn’t have a wrinkle on it as it stretched across broad shoulders and a muscled back.

      Most of all, Jake Dixon was born to wear jeans.

      “It’s a beautiful place,” Beth told Jake as she looked out at the grounds of the Gold Buckle Ranch from the porch of the Trail Boss Cabin. “So big. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

      The mountains seemed closer now and rocky. Those in the far distance had a cap of snow. The ranch was nestled in a valley with pine trees to the right and a field of grass that reached to the mountains to the left. Among the pines, a dozen little log cabins were strung along a glittering creek like charms on a bracelet.

      The Trail Boss Cabin, deep in the pines, was postcard perfect. It was made out of rough logs, pine probably. Lacy curtains graced the windows, in stark contrast to the rugged logs. Two rocking chairs and a hammock were on the porch, just begging to be occupied.

      Hundreds of cows and a dozen horses lowered their heads to graze on a slight hill about a half mile away. Closer were several other buildings of different shapes and sizes. The biggest was the barn with a corral to the side of it. Horses grouped together under the shade of several large trees. Some looked over the fence as if they, too, were awaiting guests.

      She took a deep breath. The air was pure and held the scent of pine.

      The Trail Boss Cabin was just as cute inside as she had thought it would be. It had two bedrooms and a screened-in back porch overlooking the creek. Pink geranium ivy cascaded from terra-cotta pots on the steps leading down from the porch. She could hear the rushing stream behind and on the right side of the cabin. Like all of the other cabins, it had a wheelchair ramp.

      Inside, a stone fireplace took over one wall of the living room, which flowed into the kitchen. The appliances were old but brilliantly clean. The inside walls were varnished, knotty pine planks, aged to a golden hue. The bedrooms and the bathroom were down a small hall.

      “Hey, Mom, it’s bigger than our apartment,” Kevin yelled from one of the bedrooms.

      “It seems like it is.”

      “Wouldn’t you like to stay here forever?” Kevin came toward her, the wheels of his chair rolling effortlessly down the hardwood floor.

      Beth sighed. It was a homey place in which to live. So calm, so quiet. It seemed like she could reach out and touch the mountains. However, she had to make a living and that living was in Lizard Rock, Arizona.

      Heaven knows, she had enough bills to pay. She lived free at the apartments and received a small salary for being the rental agent and manager, but she had to be there to do her