Rancher To The Rescue. Arlene James

I can’t thank you enough.

      God bless you, my friend.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       About the Author

       Booklist

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Introduction

       Dear Reader

       Bible Verse

       Dedication

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      Glancing at his three-year-old in the rearview mirror of the double cab pickup truck, Jake cranked up the air-conditioning.

      “Sorry, son. It’s just too hot to ride with the windows down.”

      Frankie made a face, but said nothing as Jake hit the buttons that rolled up the windows. The boy loved the wind in his face, even the scorching wind of an August morning, which was one reason he’d taken off at a heady gallop on his pony across the field after his six-year-old cousin yesterday. Tyler was a more experienced rider than Frankie, and Jake’s heart had leaped into his throat as he’d watched his son’s dark head bouncing along behind his nephew’s horse. Thankfully, Jake had caught up to him before the boy had lost his seat.

      Determined that both the boy and the pony would receive further instruction before being allowed out of the corral again, Jake had brought Frankie along with him while he ran errands. He didn’t have any other option. His brothers, Wyatt and Ryder, and Wyatt’s son, Tyler, were out on horseback checking the least-accessible water holes on the ranch, and Wyatt’s wife, Tina, had a doctor’s appointment.

      Given the size and population of his native Houston, Jake had always thought that in Texas, it was a long drive to get anywhere, but Oklahoma was proving its equal. Its many small towns and few big cities were separated by long stretches of empty road. Consequently, Oklahoma felt rather lonely to Jake, even more so since Wyatt had married Tyler’s mother in June.

      Tina and Tyler were good for his brother, and Jake wished them only happiness, but now that Wyatt had his own family, Jake had started to feel out of place at Loco Man Ranch. He and his two brothers had spent many joyous summers running wild over the two thousand acres of the ranch on the outskirts of tiny War Bonnet before inheriting the place from their uncle Dodd a few months ago. More and more, though, Jake felt like an interloper in his sister-in-law’s house and an unnecessary dependent on the ranching enterprise. As a mechanic, trained by the army, Jake felt the ranch simply did not need or maintain enough vehicles to keep him busy or justify his take of the profits, which were irregular.

      On the other hand, the nearest mechanic to War Bonnet was at least thirty miles away. Jake figured he could pull in enough business from the surrounding countryside to turn a profit. So, right after the wedding, with the blessings of his brothers and sister-in-law, Jake had the foundation poured for a shop that he was building at the very edge of the road fronting the ranch property, only a few hundred yards from the house. While doing much of the building himself and keeping a close eye on his budget, he was quickly acquiring building materials and inventory. If the shop was up and running within the next month or so, he should have enough of his dwindling savings left to see him through until the business fulfilled expectations.

      With his mind full of lists and plans, he didn’t notice the old car beside the road until he was right on it. A woman was bent over the front fender of the little coupe, her head hidden by the raised hood, one tennis shoe kicked up into the air and her long full skirt rising to the backs of her knees. Jake knew instantly that he had to stop. Already hotter than ninety degrees with a high in triple digits predicted, it was too hot to be stranded on the side of the road, and out here the next vehicle might be long in coming.

      He brought the big pickup truck to a grinding halt beside the two-lane pavement, well ahead of the stranded car. Shifting the transmission into Park with one hand, he rolled down all the windows with the other before killing the engine. “Don’t you get out of your seat,” he instructed Frankie. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to help this lady.”

      Frankie leaned forward and craned his neck, looking behind them. “What lady?”

      “Don’t know,” Jake replied, reaching for the pale straw cowboy hat on the passenger seat. “Looks like her car broke down.”

      He got out, settled his hat on his head and pushed his sunshades farther up on his nose, wishing he’d taken the time to shave that morning. The coal-dark dusting of beard on his cheeks, jaws and upper lip always made him look rough