The Rancher's Surprise Son. Christine Wenger

      She leaned forward, resting her head on his chest. “Two days.” Stepping back, she ran her palms down his cheeks to see if he was real and to make sure that this wasn’t a dream. Taking his face in her hands, she pulled him toward her for a kiss—a long, sensuous kiss—full of longing, hope and a wish for a quick solution to all of their problems.

      * * *

      Finally, it was Sunday, the day of the church picnic. Cody did enough work at both ranches to merit a long soak in the creek.

      So he sat in his favorite spot with his back against a rock letting the cool water rush around him, thinking.

      It felt strange to just relax and have an unstructured day. He still hadn’t shaken off the institutional mentality of schedules and timetables, and caught himself checking for a clock on numerous occasions, thinking that it was time for his cell block to line up for lunch or shower time, or for an academic or training program.

      He couldn’t wait to see Laura again and meet her son. He wondered if he could see Laura’s face in the little boy, or if he looked like the college guy. He wondered about Johnny’s personality and what the little boy liked to eat and watch on TV. He didn’t know what cartoons, which were a big favorite of the inmates, or shows were out these days. Instead of TV, Cody kept busy reading and doing work for his bachelor’s degree, which was how he got the nickname Professor.

      His graduation at the prison was a small affair—about a dozen inmates and a handful of dignitaries from both the University of Arizona and the prison. Following that, there was a little reception in the prison library with punch and cake.

      So now he had a bachelor’s degree in American history because animal husbandry wasn’t offered. Not that he’d be able to do much with an American history degree—no one would ever hire him to teach in their school—but he’d always loved history and because school passed the time.

      He’d have to tell Laura someday. She’d like that he got a degree. J.W. wouldn’t give a damn—it wasn’t a degree in business or finance or ranch management. Cody decided to keep his mouth shut. J.W. took too much pleasure in employing ranch hands with degrees who couldn’t find jobs in their academic fields, and Cody didn’t want to give him any more reasons to be amused at his expense.

      Cody pushed away all thoughts of J.W. He planned on having a great day at the church picnic.

      He hauled himself out of the water, sloshed to the bank of the creek and wiped himself dry with his T-shirt. In the Arizona heat, his jeans would dry before he hiked back to the Double M.

      He’d take a decent shower then. He couldn’t get enough of long, hot showers.

      Draping his shirt around his neck, he slid into his cowboy boots and began walking. He could walk the way in his sleep, and so could Laura. He wondered why no one had discovered this part of the creek—although he doubted that J.W. and Penny would step a toe in it, since it was on Masters land. By the time it meandered to Duke property, it was nothing more than a muddy trickle.

      The creek would come with the Double M, if his mother ever decided to give up the fight.

      Although he’d like to think that it was his blood, sweat and tears that made the Double M what it was, his mother was the one who had kept it going for the three years that he was gone and just after his father died.