tensed. This was the part she had dreaded and worried about the most in coming back to town.
Breathe in, breathe out.
It was no wonder Matty was picking up on her anxiety. It was practically radiating from her.
Presenting Matty to Katie and talking about him would be relatively easy compared to what she imagined it would be like with some of the other folks in town.
It was overwhelming to realize this was the first of many times she’d have to introduce her son—to friends and acquaintances, neighbors in town, and at church. And she’d have to explain that a husband didn’t come along with the package.
She anticipated a few surprised looks, maybe even a little gossip, but hopefully no one would ask about the boy’s father, at least not right away. She wasn’t ready to open up about Matty’s parentage, to disclose her secret.
Honestly, she doubted she’d ever be ready.
“No husband,” she managed to choke out.
Katie’s face turned a pretty shade of pink. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed—”
Carolina sighed. “It’s not a big deal. You had no way of knowing. I’m sure you’ll be the first of many to ask.”
Actually, the question was like a jab in the stomach, but she knew she’d better get used to it.
“No worries there. Everyone is going to adore this handsome little fella,” Katie assured her, clearly backtracking.
Carolina ran her palm across the cowlick in her son’s dark hair, but he paid no attention to her as he busily pushed his cars across the tile floor, making vrooming and screeching noises, punctuated with the occasional fire truck or police vehicle siren.
Matty’s resemblance to his father was striking, should anyone care to notice. Carolina prayed they wouldn’t. If Katie didn’t notice, maybe there was hope that others would miss the connection as well.
“Matty, be a gentleman and say hi to Miss Katie.”
Hearing his name, Matty looked up from his toys.
“I’m Matty,” he proclaimed proudly.
Katie chuckled. “Nice to meet you, Matty.” Her gaze returned to Carolina, and her smile widened. “What a little sweetheart.”
Carolina released the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding.
“Would you like to take a tour around our new ranch? It’s quite an improvement over the old one. Thanks to Cyrus Culpepper, we’ve been able to take in twice the number of needy boys.”
“That’s great news. What I saw driving in looks wonderful. Actually, I’ve got some important information about the Culpepper will. That’s why I’m here.” Carolina once again fished through her purse, this time searching for the certified letter she’d received the week previously.
She really did need to buy a smaller handbag that half of her worldly possessions wouldn’t get lost in. After Matty had turned two, she’d graduated from a diaper bag to her current purse, which wasn’t much smaller than the enormous blue elephant bag had been. But with an active toddler, she still found it necessary to carry a lot of stuff. Toy cars, a pull-on diaper or two, wet wipes, fruit snacks...
Finally locating and retrieving the envelope, she placed it on the desk in front of her. “I need to speak to Bea. I believe it’s regarding a legal matter.”
“Of course. She’s out to lunch right now, but I expect her back in a half an hour or so. I’ll text her to let her know you’re here.”
Carolina shifted her gaze to Matty just as, standing on tiptoe, he reached for the stack of papers teetering on the edge of Katie’s desk.
“Matty, no,” Carolina barked, just barely managing to snatch him out of the way before the whole stack of invoices went flying off the desk. As it was, four or five documents fluttered to the ground around her feet.
Shaking her head in dismay, she propped Matty on her hip and turned to Katie. “I’m so sorry. Sometimes I think curiosity should have been Matty’s middle name.”
Heat suffused Carolina’s face. She only hoped Katie would not ask what Matty’s real middle name was. It would be a dead giveaway for sure.
Katie grinned and stood, moving around the desk and stooping to retrieve the errant papers. “Not a problem. No harm done.”
Carolina returned her smile. “Yet. This child can get into mischief faster than you can say Jack Frost. I’m his mother and I can barely keep up with him.”
“Do you like horses, Matty? I think we have just enough time before Miss Bea gets back for us to go visit the stables.” She winked at Carolina. “And get him out for some fresh air? Maybe run off a bit of his energy? If only we could bottle it up and use it for ourselves, huh?” she said. “Imagine how much we could accomplish in a day.”
Carolina laughed and nodded. “I’ll say.”
As Katie led them between outbuildings toward the stable, she regaled Carolina with funny stories about the resident boys and the animals and pointed out various buildings and working areas of the boys ranch.
Carolina was familiar with the general purpose of the ranch, which, under the guidance of the Lone Star Cowboy League, was to care for and mentor troubled boys ages six to seventeen, kids who were having difficulties at home. Most of the time their parents or caregivers, unable to deal with the boys’ emotional issues on their own, placed them at the boys ranch for a time. These were the kids who were walking a fine line, and the ranch had many success stories of kids who had grown up and gone on to be model citizens and useful members of their communities.
Since Carolina wasn’t personally connected to the ranch in any way, she knew very little about the specifics and had never visited. Three years ago when she’d left Haven, it had still been located at the smaller facility, which had only had the capacity to house twelve boys. Now that they’d moved, they’d been able to expand the children’s options and aid them in moving forward with their lives.
As Katie talked, Carolina became increasingly impressed by the number of programs the ranch now offered to help the boys transition into public life, to become honorable, faithful and hardworking members of society. They attended the nearby public school during the week and Haven Community Church on Sundays.
The boys also had the opportunity to acquire a trade. In addition to ranch work, they could learn cooking, carpentry, welding, painting, plumbing—the impressive list went on and on.
Carolina took a deep breath of the country air and reveled in the uniquely rural aroma that assaulted her nostrils—the pungent odors of hay and horses, prairie grass, and freshly dug earth mingled with the scents of the barnyard animals they passed. Oddly, it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. After three years in the city, the ranch smelled like home.
White picket fences surrounded the property. Brown cattle dotted the rolling green hills. Matty was entranced by the squawking chickens pecking for food on the ground inside their coop. Carolina chuckled at the plump piglets rooting around in the mud, grunting to their hearts’ content.
Her ears picked up on the congregational sound of bleating. A herd of hungry sheep, perhaps. Or goats.
She wondered if they might be able to take a quick detour to introduce Matty to the goats. Her son would go crazy over a cute little bleating baby with its nubby horns and curious nature. What were they called again?
Kids?
Carolina chuckled. That sounded about right, given that goats were similarly stubborn and inclined to get themselves into loads of mischief.
“I’m really excited about one of our newest projects,” Katie gushed as they rounded the corner of the barn. “It’s already proving to be one of the most popular programs we’ve ever had here on the ranch.”