Her Guardian Rancher. Brenda Minton

to his brow in a relaxed salute, stepped down from the porch and headed down the road to his truck. She watched him leave, then stepped back inside and locked the door.

      This time when she leaned against it, closing her eyes as a wave of exhaustion rolled over her, she knew he wouldn’t be coming back.

Chapter Two

      The next few days were uneventful and Emma appreciated the calm that followed Pete’s midnight visit. Each morning she fed the cattle with her granddad, then headed to Martin’s Crossing to Duke’s No Bar and Grill to work the lunch shift as a waitress. Lately she’d managed a few extra shifts, which would come in handy with Christmas just around the corner.

      She’d only known the Martin family by name before taking the job at Duke’s. The last six months or so, she’d come to appreciate their family. Not only had Duke Martin given her a job, inexperienced as she was, but his sister-in-law, Breezy, had offered to watch Jamie.

      Lily, Duke’s daughter, swept into the restaurant on Wednesday afternoon, a big smile on her young face. Emma responded with a smile and a wave. The teenager followed Emma to the waitress station.

      “Breezy has Jamie across the street at my mom’s shop. She said she’ll bring her over in a minute. She thinks maybe Jamie isn’t feeling good.”

      Emma’s heart sped up a little at that information. They’d been blessed this winter. So far they’d avoided major viruses. That was the goal. And a good reason for having Jamie at Breezy’s, with fewer children around to spread germs. The twin nieces that Jake had gained custody of after his own twin sister’s death were now in preschool. Jake and Breezy had a one-year-old who stayed at home with Breezy.

      She recovered, fighting off the moment of panic. “Is she running a fever?”

      “Breezy said she isn’t. Mom thought she felt warm.”

      “I’ll check her when we get home.” She maintained a smile, to make herself and Lily feel better.

      Nedine, Ned for short, Duke’s head waitress and right-hand woman, walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray. The older woman, tall and big-boned, had once explained she’d been named for her dad, Ned. He’d wanted a son but he’d been happy with a daughter.

      The older waitress smiled at Duke’s daughter and winked at Emma. “Lily, your daddy said to put you to work when you got here after school. I think you’re going to be my bus girl this evening.”

      Lily saluted. “Will do, Ned. Hey, did the twin foals do okay over the weekend?”

      Ned’s face split open like sunshine. “They sure did. Prettiest little palominos I ever did see. You’ll have to come out and take a look.”

      “I will!” Then Lily returned her full attention to Emma. “Did my mom tell you about the potluck at our church this Sunday?”

      The girl reached for the big jug of ketchup and started refilling bottles alongside Emma. Before Emma could answer her, Duke entered the restaurant. He caught sight of his daughter and headed their way.

      “Hair in a ponytail, please,” Duke said as he gave her a hug.

      Lily responded by digging in her pocket and pulling out a hair band. She pulled her dark hair back in a messy bun and kept working.

      “She did tell me,” Emma answered the girl’s question.

      “Are you going to be there? I know you go to church in Braswell, but, you know...”

      Emma nodded. “Yes, I know. You have someone you want me to meet.”

      “Kind of,” Lily admitted. “He’s nice. He works for my dad.”

      “I’m sure he’s nice, but I really don’t have time for dating.” Emma blinked away a flash of an image. No! She would not think of Daron McKay and dating in the same thought. She wouldn’t allow his image to startle her that way, coming unbidden to her mind, all concerned and caring the way he’d been last Sunday night. At least she knew it wasn’t Daron who Lily had in mind for her. He didn’t work for Duke.

      “Are you okay?” Lily’s shoulder bumped Emma’s, nearly making her drop the ketchup bottle she held. “Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

      “You didn’t scare me. And I’m fine.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket. “It’s a phone call, that’s all.”

      Saved by the bell. She glanced at the caller ID and grimaced. An unknown caller. She didn’t need that. It most likely meant it was Pete or a bill collector or something equally unpleasant. But when the caller left a message she lifted the phone to her ear to listen.

      “Oh no,” she whispered as she listened.

      Lily stood next to her, eyes wide, ketchup bottle held close to her mouth. Emma took the ketchup bottle from the girl and set it on the counter before reaching into her apron for a pencil. She jotted down notes and ended the call.

      “Is everything okay?” Lily, still wide-eyed, asked.

      Duke came around the corner. “Lily, why don’t you give Emma room to breathe? There are a couple of tables you can clear.”

      Lily moved away, reluctant, with slow steps and a few backward glances. Emma managed a quick smile for the girl before glancing up at her boss. He towered over her at six foot six. With his shaved head and his goatee, he used to intimidate her. Now she knew him to be a gentle soul.

      “My grandfather seems to be in custody at the Braswell Police Station,” she explained, still numb.

      “I didn’t know Braswell had a jail.” Duke took the towel she was wringing the life out of and tossed it on the counter. “Is he okay?”

      “Yes, I guess. He ran someone off the road. I guess I’ll know more when I get there.”

      “Do you want me to give you a ride or find someone to drive you?” His deep voice rumbled, reassuring her.

      “No, I’m good.”

      “If you’re sure. But call us later and let us know that you’re okay.”

      Emma nodded, still in shock, as she headed out the diner.

      * * *

      The city police station of Braswell, Texas, was located on Main Street, between the Clip and Curl Salon and the Texas Hill Country Flea Palace, a fancy name for a store that sold everything from secondhand canning jars to old books. Emma parked her old truck in front of the police station and reached over to unlatch the car seat where her daughter, Jamie, dozed, thumb in mouth and blond curls tousled. Her eyes, blue and wide, opened as Emma worked the latch. She grinned around her thumb.

      “Hey, kiddo, time to get up. We have to bust Granddad out of this place.”

      Jamie giggled, as if she understood. But at three, Jamie understood things like puppies, kittens and newborn calves. She didn’t understand that her favorite person, other than her mommy, was getting older and maybe a little senile. She also didn’t understand bills, the leaking roof or the desperate need to buy hay for winter, which was nipping at their heels in a big way.

      The farm her grandfather had bought and moved them to when she’d lost her parents wasn’t a big spread, not by Texas standards. The fifty acres had provided for them, though, supplementing her grandfather’s small retirement. It had been a decent living until her grandfather’s pension had gotten cut, and then they’d had medical bills after Jamie’s birth. Emma had been forced to sell off most of her horses, all but a dozen head of cattle and get a part-time job. The economy and the drought had dealt them a blow the past few years.

      All things work together for good, she kept telling herself. All things, even the bad, the difficult, the troubling.

      Unbuckled, Jamie reached for Emma and wrapped sweet little arms around her neck. Emma grabbed her purse and