go?”
“Perfectly. I have just enough beef left over to make us a stew tomorrow and not a spoonful remains of my chocolate cherry trifle.” Despite the lines of weariness around her eyes, Sophie looked happy. “And I have two new jobs.”
“Great.” He motioned to the stove. “Do you have time for tea? I just made a pot.”
“I’d love a cup. Thank you.” Sophie sank into the chair he offered. “Somehow I didn’t see you as a tea drinker.”
“Burt only drank coffee in the morning. He refused to make it after that. Since my coffee is worse than mud it was easier to drink whatever he made. It’s pretty hard even for me to mess up tea bags.” He poured tea into two mugs before realizing he should have used the good cups. “I have some pie left. Would you like a slice?”
“No, thanks. I like making pie but eating it is bad for my waist.” Sophie frowned at him. “Which kinds were left?”
“One apple and one strawberry rhubarb.” He sat down across from her thinking that there was nothing wrong with her waist. “Don’t make that face. It wasn’t because they didn’t like them,” he reassured her. “They did. I knew most of them would take seconds or thirds so I hid two pieces before they got here.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because I wanted some for tomorrow.” He shrugged when she grinned. “Self-preservation. You make very good pies.”
“Thank you but I’m sure your housekeeper keeps you well fed.” Sophie’s gaze moved around the kitchen.
“I don’t have a housekeeper. The hands are all married and eat at home. Moses prefers his own cooking. It’s just me.” She looked dubious. “It’s true. When he was alive, Burt did the cooking or we ate out.”
“What a shame with a kitchen like this. It’s a cook’s dream.” A soft yearning look filled Sophie’s face as she studied the stainless steel appliances. “You have every piece of equipment any cook could dream of.”
“Probably.” He shrugged carelessly. “Burt had this room redone several months ago and then asked the Public Health Department to certify it as commercial. He hoped to use it for meal preparation when he got the camps going.”
“When will that be?” Sophie leaned back in her chair, mug in hand, and let the steam bathe her face.
“Good question.” Tanner forced himself to stop staring at her and admitted, “I’m struggling to get things started because I don’t have Burt’s gift for striking up conversations with kids. I’m not even sure how to start a camp or whatever for them. Actually I’m scared witless at the thought of hosting a group of troubled kids for a whole week, but that was Burt’s goal.”
“Why must you start with a full-week camp?” Sophie tilted her head, her face thoughtful. “Couldn’t you try a one-day riding camp first, maybe get some practice at running that before you branch out?”
Tanner blinked. He’d been overwhelmed by the scope of Burt’s impossible dream, but this smaller step seemed feasible.
“How do you see that working?” He waited with a wiggle of excitement flaring inside, for Sophie to expand on her idea.
“Hmm. Maybe the kids would arrive Saturday morning between seven and eight? You could have a buffet breakfast while they assemble. Kids are always hungry.” She smiled, her full lips tipping up in a way that set his heart thudding. “After that they could mingle among the horses.”
“That way we could assess their skills without being too obvious.” Logical and organized. Tanner liked that about Sophie. “Also they could get to know their ride. But we’d need some time to prepare the horses,” he mused with a frown.
“So maybe a little explanation about the horses while you prepare. After that you tell them the rules for the trail ride and what to expect.” Sophie glanced at him, eyebrows lifted in a question. “Then you mount up.”
“And just ride?” He thought that sounded boring.
“You could break up the ride.” Sophie didn’t laugh or mock him for his lack of ideas. Instead she chewed on her bottom lip, a frown marring her smooth forehead as she thought it through. “Maybe you’d stop along the way to explain about the desert, the animals that live here, talk about Wranglers Ranch and how it came to be—stuff like that.”
“That’d be Moses’s job,” Tanner said, thinking how easily her plan came together. “He knows everything there is to know about this spread and the desert adjoining us.”
“Perfect.” Her smile made him feel as if he could handle this.
Suddenly Tanner didn’t find Burt’s dream quite so daunting.
“At the end of the ride you might have a campfire picnic or maybe a chuck wagon dinner.” Sophie studied him, assessing his response. “Doable?”
“Sure. We could follow that with stories, maybe bring up God’s creation,” Tanner added thoughtfully. “It’s a good plan. A small group would give us a chance to do a trial run, iron out problems.”
“It wouldn’t be hard to turn that into a two-day camp, either, if you had somewhere on the ranch for people to camp out overnight. Breakfast in the desert, ride back to the ranch for lunch, then head home. It sounds—” Sophie’s smile faltered. “You’re frowning.”
“Because I don’t see how this plan attracts street kids.” Tanner avoided her gaze. “They were Burt’s primary focus.”
“Maybe to get there you have to start with other kids,” Sophie said in a thoughtful voice. “Maybe if you got a buzz going about this place, street kids would come out of curiosity. There are lots of needy kids who could benefit from coming here. Building a rapport with a horse and the people who care for them could be a bridge to reaching many kids.”
“You think?” Tanner hadn’t considered that.
“Sure. I’d enroll Davy in a program like that if it was available and I could afford it.” Sophie set her cup down and placed her hands in her lap. Her voice dropped. “Actually I’m willing to try almost anything to engage him. He’s not yet nine but he’s already gotten in with a bad bunch of kids. His behavior and attitude are suffering at school, too. I’m his mother but I feel like I’m failing him.”
“I sincerely doubt that.” Tanner didn’t think a caring mom like her would ever disappoint her child or abandon him as his own mother had.
“I homeschool Beth and that takes a lot of prep time, but I have to do it. She just wasn’t progressing at her school.” Sophie sighed. “By necessity she gets a lot of attention from me. So does my job and when I’ve finished that—”
“You’re wiped out,” he completed, seeing the weariness in her posture.
“Yes.” Sophie’s head drooped. “And Davy suffers. His ‘friends’ have already persuaded him to steal a candy bar. I reprimanded and punished him but I’m worried about what comes next. I don’t know what to do. I’m doing the best I can but...”
Tanner had to say something to erase the misery on her face.
“Davy was great tonight. He even offered to help Moses muck out stalls.” He grinned as astonishment filled Sophie’s face. “Don’t worry, I didn’t let him. I said we’d need your permission first, but Davy is definitely intrigued by the animals. He went from tough bravado to quiet gentleness in about three seconds flat when he met an abused horse someone dropped off today.”
“My son—gentle?” Sophie’s big brown eyes stretched wide. “Davy?”
“Davy,” Tanner affirmed. He liked her honesty about her son. “Maybe that’s an interest you can build on, which is also why this idea of yours could be worthwhile.” His brain whirled with ideas. “If Wranglers helped only Davy it would