A Rancher for their Mom. Leann Harris

never too young to learn how to use a tractor. My dad had me ride with him when I was Todd’s age, and I was plowing fields after I turned ten.”

      “Opa let me ride with him, Mom,” Wes hastily added.

      If the man had used any other argument, she would’ve shot down the idea, but the boys needed to know how to operate the machinery and how to plow if they were going to maintain the ranch. She knew Vernon had been teaching the boys, but hearing them repeat the lessons would’ve made him proud. It certainly made her smile. After surveying three waiting males, she said, “All right.”

      The boys pounded their little fists on their hands. April stood rooted to the spot, watching.

      “One. Two. Three.”

      The boys went along and Todd won.

      “Can we try again?” Wes asked.

      Joel put his hand on Wes’s shoulder. “You’re with me to plant the sunflowers.”

      Wes looked up at Joel, than at his brother. “Okay.” He didn’t argue or pout, but trusted Joel enough to go along with his turn being second.

      April worked hard not to let her jaw drop that her son offered no argument.

      “I guess Wes can help me get my vegetable garden ready to plant.”

      “And Mr. Joel told me some stuff to do around here,” Wes added.

      “Those chores can wait until you help your mom plant the garden.”

      Wes nodded.

      They watched as Joel drove the tractor to the north section of land.

      Cora looked back at April. “I go, too.”

      “We’ll work right here and plant some of your favorite vegetables.”

      “Cupcakes?”

      Wes snickered. “That’s not a vegetable. Carrots, peas, potatoes—those are vegetables.”

      Cora folded her arms over her chest and pursed her lips.

      “You like giving Sammie a carrot, don’t you?” Wes asked.

      “And you like mashed potatoes?” April added, knowing it was Cora’s favorite food.

      Cora nodded.

      “Well, we’ll plant potatoes and strawberries and watch them grow.” Throwing in the strawberries clinched the deal. Both children agreed to work in the garden.

      * * *

      April turned off the computer, finished with her accounts. She melted into her chair and took a deep breath. Relief washed over her, making her light-headed.

      “Thank You, Lord.”

      The roller-coaster events of the past couple of days still had her reeling. By dinner tonight, the sunflowers were planted, along with her garden, and she had three happy, satisfied children. Tomorrow the hay field would be done. There was hope.

      Hope.

      Such a small word, with some giant results.

      Despite her offer, Joel didn’t stay for dinner, but the boys beamed with pride as they told her how they’d helped Mr. Joel. She hadn’t seen Wes and Todd that excited about anything since before their grandfather died.

      Intrigued by the story Joel had told about his parents and his grandmother at breakfast, she felt there was something more to the story than he told. She’d like to know what he’d left out.

      “Stop,” she chided herself. Joel would only be here the balance of the week. The man’s presence had managed to scramble the brains of all members of the family, herself included. That should be a warning, flashing bright, telling her of danger. And yet, she found herself ignoring those caution lights.

      If she thought about it, Joel’s attitude differed as much from Ross’s as night from day. Joel welcomed her boys, piercing the shield she’d built around her heart in a way she couldn’t stop. When news of Ross’s death had reached April, she’d grieved with his parents, but she’d felt guilty that she wasn’t devastated. She had two little boys to take care of. When she discovered she was pregnant again, she didn’t have any time to grieve—at least, that was what she told herself. Was that simply an excuse?

      The phone rang. Instantly, April picked it up, since she didn’t want the ring to wake any of the kids. “Hello.”

      “April, honey, how are you doing and how are the kids?”

      “Hi, Mom. We’re all doing well. Are you and Dad going to be coming to spend Easter with us this year?” Her mother lived in Houston, the closest big city to the platform her father managed. The children were excited about seeing their grandparents.

      “Uh, that’s what I’m calling about. Your father has a new assignment. They want him to manage one of the new drilling platforms off Brazil. He’s leaving tomorrow. I’m going to put the house here on the market by the end of the week, then look for a house for us in Rio de Janeiro.”

      “How long is his assignment?”

      “At least two years, maybe three. They think this area is a gold mine, which means we might be there longer. I’m going to have to learn to speak Portuguese.” She spoke Bahasa Indonesian and Dutch, which she’d learned while they were in Indonesia. And when they were in Ghana her mother had learned Dagbanli, but she couldn’t remember any of April’s friends’ names. She’d even forgotten April’s twelfth birthday because she’d been too busy managing a reception in honor of the president of Ghana given by the oil company.

      April’s stomach sank. “So we won’t see you this Easter. Maybe Christmas?”

      “I don’t know. Things are still hectic. I want to see those babies of yours, but this move just caught us off guard. Your dad was offered a very nice bonus to take this job.”

      A familiar refrain that her father had accepted this new challenge didn’t shock her. His job always was number one. April had realized it the Christmas she was eight and her father couldn’t make it off the oil platform. He’d come home the week of New Year’s and explained that his working on Christmas meant he could buy her a nicer bicycle as a gift. What she wanted was her father sharing Christmas with his family.

      “I know the kids will be disappointed not to see their grandparents. They are growing so quickly that you won’t recognize them.”

      “I’m disappointed not to be able to see them, too, but this opportunity just showed up and we couldn’t turn it down.”

      Nothing had changed with her parents. Living with her in-laws had taught her to expect more, but then she had to realize she was talking to her mom.

      “You know, maybe you and the kids could come to Brazil and spend Christmas with us. It would be such a treat for them to be in the warm weather.”

      Instead of enduring the cold wind and weather in the Panhandle. April heard her mother’s implication although no words were spoken.

      “I don’t know, Mom. Who would take care of the animals and ranch while we were gone?”

      The line remained quiet for several moments. Finally, her mother said, “Your dad and I have talked about it. Both your husband and his family are dead, and all you have are those precious children. We think you should consider selling the ranch and moving to the city. Without the burden of that place, you could have time for your children. Find a job you like or go back to school and get a degree. You can’t do all that ranch work by yourself.”

      Her mother’s words felt like a knife in her heart. Sure, there were problems, but she wasn’t going to sell her children’s inheritance no matter what. Vernon had bragged how big the ranch had been in the early 1900s, when the Landerses had a big family and relatives who lived close by. But slowly, the family members had died or moved away. Vernon and Grace had only had one son instead