A Child's Gift. Linda Warren

home. We all deserve our own lives. So this time, Mom has to be the one to give. She has to realize she can’t control us all the time. I’ve had enough.”

      “Good heavens. This is going to be like a category five hurricane.” He picked up his baseball cap. “I guess I’ll go home and look for shelter.”

      “Have you ever thought of telling her how you feel?” Anamarie asked.

      “No, I gave up on that a long time ago. Peace is my goal every day and you kids are making it very hard by suddenly growing up.”

      As he walked out the door, the room became quiet. The siblings dealt with their own thoughts and Anamarie thought she should just give up. It was like beating her head against a wall. She was doing nothing but hurting herself. Then again, she could see Jericho’s face and it gave her strength.

      “Jericho, huh?” Patsy mused. “You go for the dark mysterious kind.”

      Peggy slapped her arm. “This is serious. Stop kidding around.”

      Patsy flung a hand toward Anamarie. “That’s why she’s leaving. Because of him, isn’t it?”

      “Do you know what it’s like to hear every day that I can’t run the bakery as well as she can, that I’m slow and incompetent and talk too much to the customers? And if I would just fix myself up and lose some weight, I could attract a decent man? Every day it’s the same thing. Criticism after criticism. How in the world does anyone see that as love?”

      “Anamarie...” Angie got up and sat on the arm of Anamarie’s chair.

      “When Jericho first started coming in, I spoke to him because no one else would. I found that he’s a very nice man. He has the darkest, warmest eyes I’ve ever seen. Just looking into them I feel as if I’m sitting in front of a fire, all warm and cozy. He makes me feel good about myself and over the years we’ve grown closer. We talk a lot. He makes me laugh and he listens to what I have to say. He tells me I’m beautiful and I don’t need to lose any weight. He tells me I’m perfect the way I am. Do you know what it’s like to hear that after all the criticism?”

      Again, there was silence in the room.

      Anamarie cleared her throat. “I’m forty now and maybe I’m yearning for something I will never have, but I deserve a chance at love just like all of you. I know it’s going to be hard and I regret that.”

      Angie rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry the responsibility for the bakery has landed on your shoulders. That’s been very inconsiderate of us. Yes, you deserve a life and we’ll all pitch in and help.”

      “I’d appreciate that, and Margie knows how to make the kolaches. She just needs someone there to help her. Judy is there, but we’d need another person, too. It can work.”

      “What about the family recipe Mom doesn’t want anyone to know?” Peggy asked.

      “Margie knows it. She watches me every morning and that secret has been out for a lot of years. Mom just doesn’t know it.”

      “Mom will insist on going into the bakery if you’re not there,” Bubba said. “Margie has a hard time working with her.”

      “Welcome to my life,” Anamarie quipped.

      “Well, that’s settled.” Patsy raised a hand. “Who’s in favor of Margie baking the kolaches and hiring someone to help her?”

      Everyone raised a hand.

      “But we need someone there today to help,” Peggy said.

      “You guys work it out.” Anamarie got to her feet. “I have things to do.” She told them about Dusty and how she’d agreed to help.

      “Have you told Jericho?” Patsy pressed.

      A pain pierced her chest. “No. It’s not something we’ve talked about.”

      “You’re scared,” Peggy said. “But if he’s the man you say he is, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

      But it had always been a problem. The Wiznowski secret her mother wanted no one to know. But Anamarie carried it like a badge on her chest and every day it made her feel less of a woman. Less of a person. But no more. If she wanted a life with Jericho, she had to be honest and forthright and strong enough to handle his reaction.

      After this morning, though, she had to wonder if he even wanted to see her.

      RICO DROVE ACROSS the cattle guard to Rebel Ranch. It was one of the biggest ranches in Texas with miles and miles of ranchland. To the left was the big two-story log house John Rebel had built for his wife, Kate. About a hundred yards behind the house was a smaller log house which they called the homeplace. It had been the first Rebel home. Paxton and his wife, Remi, lived there now with their daughter, Annie. Not far from the house was an old white clapboard hosue that belonged to Grandpa Rebel. Grandpa didn’t stay there much. He had a room at Elias’s and slept there most of the time.

      About half a mile to the right, through a coastal pasture filled with paint horses, was Quincy’s house where he lived with his wife, Jenny, and their two daughters. Their third child was due in two months and this time it was a boy. A lot of babies had been born on the ranch recently. Jude’s wife was expecting their third and it was a girl.

      Jude, Phoenix and Egan had built homes for their families miles down Rebel Road. Falcon lived across the road from Miss Kate’s house. He was the oldest and took over as head of the family when John Rebel had died. He and his mother ran the ranch together. Falcon had taken over completely when Miss Kate had health problems, but she was fine now and nothing was done without her approval.

      The barns, office and cow pens were on the right. When Rico’d first come here, he’d been in awe of the big ranch and didn’t know how he would fit in. But it had been easy as everyone accepted him without question. He’d learned to cowboy, herd and brand cattle, fix fences and bale hay. As much as he tried to stay to himself, the Rebels kept pulling him in, inviting him to family gatherings and on the holidays. After what Miss Kate had done for him, he would never refuse. But a part of him held back, not willing to believe they’d accepted him as one of the family.

      Falcon and Miss Kate’s trucks were at the office. He picked up his cell and called to tell them about Dusty. As he’d expected, they said to take all the time he needed.

      When he stopped at the bunkhouse, Dusty woke up and looked around. Rico thought he might cry but he didn’t. He pointed to the pasture where horses grazed. “Horse.”

      “Yeah. Are you hungry?”

      “No. But I like hot dogs. You got some?”

      “You bet.” Rico got the boy out of the truck and carried him and the duffel bag into the house. Mickey trotted around looking at his new surroundings and occasionally barking at the horses.

      “Toys!” Dusty shouted as they entered the bunkhouse, and ran to the toy box in the corner that Rico kept for Justin and Jordy. He grabbed a truck out of the box and pushed it around on the hardwood floor. Rico watched him for a moment. Dusty was happy for now, but he knew that wouldn’t last long.

      Rico set the duffel bag on the sofa and found some pull-up pants and a T-shirt. “Time for bath.”

      Dusty came without a murmur. The little boy was filthy from his hair to his shoes. Sand was even in his socks. Rico scrubbed his hair and had him clean in no time. After he was dressed, Dusty ran back to the toys. He played for a little while and fell asleep on the floor. Rico picked him up and carried him to the bed. Mickey jumped on the bed and curled up by the boy. Rico watched them for a moment and then went back to the living room and sank into his chair.

      He held his head in his hands and wondered what he’d gotten himself into. Foster homes were a dirty term to him and he couldn’t let that little boy be put in one after losing his grandmother. Tomorrow CPS could