The Rancher's Homecoming. Arlene James

Wes opened the drawer in his bedside table and began pawing through it. “Gotta be ’round here somewhere.” Finally he came up with a flip phone that looked as if it had come right out of the package. “My girls call me every few days. Otherwise, I forget about the fool thing.”

      “May I?” Callie asked, holding out her hand. He dropped the small phone into it, and she quickly programmed in Bo’s old number. They’d only had the one phone between them, and thankfully Bo hadn’t been carrying it the day of the flash flood that had taken his life. She’d managed to maintain the line, though her father had wanted her to cancel it and replace it with a business phone. “Here’s what we’ll do,” she said, handing back the phone. “I’ll bring in that old playpen that Rex found in the storeroom this morning when he went looking for the high chair, and you can watch Bodie while I go out and take care of the horses.”

      “I can’t let you do that,” Wes protested, shifting on the bed.

      “I’ve scrubbed out troughs before,” she assured him, “and I’m sure I can manage to muck out a few stalls if you’ll just explain how—”

      “Although,” he interrupted, his pale blue gaze taking on a thoughtful expression, “what you could do is just open the gates between the paddock and the corrals beside the big barn. It’s shady over there, and if you turn the tap on and fill that trough next to the red barn, the horses will find their own way to it.”

      Callie smiled. “I can do that. You have to promise that you won’t pick Bodie up while I’m gone, though. If she starts fussing, you just let her fuss. We can’t risk you opening an incision. If you get worried about her, you can call me and I’ll come right away. Agreed?”

      He nodded and mused, “You know, when I built that paddock, there were three big trees in it, but the drought killed them, one by one, and I had to take them down. Now the horses have no shade out there, so they spend more time inside, which makes more work for us, but I can’t let them suffer this heat without some sort of relief, especially my faithful Soldier. That old gentleman has carried me many a mile and bred up some fine animals. Not a better behaved stud in the state.”

      “I understand,” Callie said. “Let me get things situated in here, and I’ll open those gates.”

      “Thanks, Callie.”

      She made quick work of it, having already scrubbed every inch of the old wood playpen. The padding had long since disintegrated, so she folded a frayed, faded, quilted bedspread and put that in the bottom of the playpen, which she positioned next to Wes’s bed, before hanging one of Bodie’s favorite activity toys on the side rail and tossing in some stuffed animals. After feeding and changing Bodie, Callie retrieved the cell phone then plopped the baby down in the cushioned playpen and entertained her for several minutes with the activity center. While Bodie busily played with her toys, Callie slipped out to see to the horses.

      She started by turning on the tap in the metal trough in the corral next to the big red barn, then wound her way through the maze of fences, opening the gates that led down to the horse paddock. Seeing only one animal in the pasture, it occurred to her that the others might be hiding from the heat in the horse barn, so she ventured in there.

      The odors of horse, hay and manure enveloped her. As her eyes adjusted to the shadowed interior, she saw that all of the stall gates stood open so the horses could come and go as they pleased, but a glance at the nearest trough showed her why Wes was concerned. A green scum ringed the metal container.

      Callie didn’t know much about horses, but she knew better than to surprise them, so she started talking before she started walking. “Hey, now, fellas, it’s cooler and cleaner up by the red barn, so why don’t we take a walk?”

      Just moving around with her arms held out seemed to be enough to get the first one headed toward the door. Another soon followed, and then a big, dark beauty lifted its head, blew through its nostrils and the remaining four horses went out the door in a rapid clip. Smiling, Callie went out a safe distance behind them. She had to climb over a couple fences to get near the water tap and turn it off without wading through horses. They obviously appreciated the fresh water and clean trough. She climbed over those same fences again to avoid skirting too close to swishing tails and rear hooves on her way back to the house, but as she hit the dirt next to the road, she found unwelcome help waiting.

      Meaty hands reached out to steady her as she landed after hopping backward from the top rail of the fence.

      “Careful. Don’t hurt yourself.”

      She’d know that oddly thin voice anywhere, and pulled away as politely as she could manage. “I’m fine.”

      “I thought you were keeping house and cooking for the Billingses,” Ben Dolent said, squinting at her from above a stiff smile.

      “That’s right.” She brushed her hands on the seat of her jeans and started for the house. “Need to get back and check on Wes and the baby.”

      “How is old Wes?” Ben asked, hurrying to keep up with her. He wasn’t much taller than her, and his short legs meant that he had to take twice as many steps. She resisted the urge to lengthen her stride.

      “Still weak but mending. He’ll start chemo before long.”

      Ben clucked his tongue. He had a habit of doing that. “Terrible thing, cancer. I reckon Wes’s daughters will want to nurse him through that.”

      “When they can,” Callie said. “Right now, I’m it, though.”

      “You know you don’t have to do this,” Ben said, pumping his arms in an attempt to keep pace with her. “I’ll gladly hire professional help for old Wes.”

      Callie felt her jaw drop. She came to a halt beneath the bur oak in the front yard and glared at him. “You’d cheat me out of my wages?”

      Huffing for air, Ben threw up his hands, his round face registering shock and surprise. Obviously he hadn’t considered all the ramifications when he’d agreed to this little ploy of Stuart’s. “No! I—I just want to spare you the work.”

      “But I enjoy the work, Ben. And where would you find professional help around here?”

      “There’s an agency over in Lawton,” he squawked as she turned and headed for the porch.

      “That’s over an hour away,” she tossed over her shoulder.

      “But they’ll send help if it’s live-in,” he argued, following on her heels.

      “To cook and clean and care for Wes?” she demanded, turning on him.

      “Nursing care,” he answered lamely, backing up a step.

      “Wes doesn’t need nursing right now as much as he needs good food, clean clothes and company,” she declared. “Now, the Billings family have hired me, and I’m staying. That’s all there is to it.”

      Ben lifted his chin, what there was of it. “Callie, listen to reason.”

      “You’re not talking reason. You’re saying what Stuart Crowsen has told you to say. Goodbye, Ben.”

      “I trust that’s an end to it,” she heard Rex say and turned to find him on the pathway behind them.

      Ridiculously pleased, she stepped up onto the porch and went into the house without so much as a backward glance. She heard Ben and Rex speaking, but the conversation was short. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when she heard Ben’s vehicle leave a few moments later.

      Rex didn’t mention the encounter, but after dinner she walked into the kitchen from Wes’s room to find Rex waiting for her. He’d leaned a hip against the kitchen counter and waited with folded arms. When he saw her, he straightened and calmly announced, “You have company again.”

      Puzzled, she moved into the dining area, Rex following on her heels. When she saw Ben standing in the living room with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and his cowboy hat in the other, Callie didn’t know who she most wanted