Christmas With The Cowboy. Tina RadcliffeЧитать онлайн книгу.
“What we do isn’t special. It’s simple and consistent. We create a new normal for them at Big Heart Ranch. We have two ranches here, the boys’ ranch and the girls’ ranch, separated by a road. The children are placed in a real house with house parents, not a dormitory. It’s not a biological family, but it is a family of the heart. Their forever family from that point on. They have daily devotionals, lessons, homework, chores and all, like any other kid.”
“That’s it?”
“Zach, that’s more than most of these kids have ever had. Every one of them comes from a situation that includes neglect and abuse. Many are orphaned or abandoned.”
Zach took a deep breath at her words.
“When their heads hit the pillow at night, they no longer have the burden of worry or fear on their shoulders. We replace that with unconditional love and God’s healing grace. We promise them that we will never lie to them and that we will always protect them. In return, they follow the ranch rules.” She shrugged. “We free them to be children.” Emma sighed. “Being a kid is highly undervalued these days.”
For a long moment, Zach stared ahead as though unseeing. He was somewhere else, and she wished with all her heart that she understood where.
“Zach,” she murmured. “You okay?”
He turned slightly and met her gaze. “Never better.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you later. I’ve got to get home to the girls.”
“Thanks, Emma.”
“For what?”
“For letting me work with Mick.”
“Sure.” Emma walked slowly to her car, puzzling over the conversation with Zach. She was certain that something remarkable had just happened but what that was eluded her.
Had she spoken to the Lord about Zach lately, or had she relegated him to a forgotten place in her prayers because she was annoyed by his dismissal of RangePro? His dismissal of her. It was time to remember her words about unconditional love and give Zach Norman what he deserved.
* * *
Zach’s assessing gaze took in the Big Heart Ranch bunkhouse that would be his home for the next eight weeks. Though Spartan, the place had everything he needed. Small kitchenette and a little living room, complete with a love seat and recliner facing a television. Grabbing his duffel from the floor, he tossed it and his security badge from human resources onto one of the four empty beds.
Easing down onto the mattress, he closed his eyes a moment.
He was in pain.
Emma was right, and it totally grated.
His knee ached after a long day and he wasn’t sure which hurt most, the smooth dismount while roping the mechanical bull or the multiple awkward exits from the saddle while working in the pasture. There was definitely a learning curve to remembering to guard the knee. Should have worn his brace.
Except, he hated the brace. Sure, it was worn under his jeans but he felt like everyone knew it was there.
He also refused to take the narcotics or the muscle relaxers that the physician ordered. Instead, Zach grabbed the familiar tube of prescription analgesic cream from his bag.
With a dab of cream in his hand, Zach rolled up the pant leg of his sweats and massaged the scars with vengeance. Six months ago, after the last unsuccessful surgery, he had come face-to-face with his future. Like the ranch kids, he was exploring his new normal.
In his last covert reconnaissance operation, Zach not only lost his best friend, Ian Clark, but his career and life as he’d known it for twelve years had been buried.
No matter how many surgeries he endured, he would never be 100 percent fit for duty again. The military docs were big on reminding him that he was fortunate to be alive, much less walk.
Lately, he was feeling far from grateful. What would he say to Ian’s family when he visited them?
Sorry I made it and Ian didn’t?
No, that wasn’t going to cut it for parents with only one child, a child who was not coming home.
Zach hung his head.
He’d postponed meeting with the Clarks multiple times, waiting until he could figure that out. In the meantime, life as he knew it was over. A washed-up navy SEAL. Who was Zach Norman outside of the uniform? He didn’t know, but he was about to find out.
As if on cue, the bunkhouse door flew open and Dutch Stevens, the wrangler Zach met earlier in the day, strode into the room, his scuffed boots beating a rhythm on the oak floorboards. The wizened cowboy tipped back his well-worn Western hat and pointedly stared at Zach’s knee.
“That’s quite a few scars you got there.”
“A road map to the unknown after three surgeries.”
“Ouch.” Dutch grimaced.
“It looks worse than it is.”
“Not from where I stand, so I guess I’ll have to take your word for that.” Dutch shook his head. “Did you meet Tripp Walker, the equine manager?”
“Yeah. Talkative guy.”
Dutch chuckled. “Tripp believes that if more people would think before they spoke, they’d open their mouth a whole lot less.”
“He’s on to something.”
“Not sure I agree with him. But that’s our Tripp.” He rubbed his chin and kept talking. “Anyhow, he’s got weights and a bench set up for the staff in the back of the equipment barn near Travis’s office. Use them anytime you like.”
“Thanks, Dutch.”
“You looked pretty good out there roping with Travis. Like maybe you’ve done that before.”
“A time or two,” Zach admitted. “Did a little bulldogging in my time, as well as heading and heeling.”
“You don’t say?” The words held a tinge of awed respect. “A real cowboy then. I suspected as much.”
“My father used to run a ranch outside of Pawhuska. That’s how I met the Maxwell kids. When they were pulled out of foster care by a relative, they lived right next door.”
Dutch gave a slow nod. “Sure. That’s right. Jay Norman. Retired a few years ago. Steve was your brother?”
“Half brother.”
“Sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.”
“I was out of town during the funeral. I guess I missed meeting you then.”
Zach nodded. He’d been in and out on the day of the funeral. Arrived on the red-eye and left before sunset.
“Shame for Emma and those babies. She and Steve weren’t married very long, either.”
“No, I guess not.”
“I know she’s glad to have Steve’s family here.”
“Maybe so,” Zach murmured.
“You’re gonna need linens if you’re staying.” Dutch walked over to a closet and pulled open the door. “They’re in here.”
“Thanks, but who said I’m staying?” Zach asked.
“Aw, don’t worry. Travis said to zip my lips. I can do that on occasion.”
“I appreciate it. So where do you bunk?” Zach asked.
“Over yonder.” He raised a thumb. “Couple of bunkhouses to the right. This here is the guest bunkhouse.”
“I’m the only guest?”
“For