the situation correctly. He’d been bamboozled by his seventy-year-old aunt. Aunt Meri was right about one thing: Jack had been away from Oklahoma for a very long time. Long enough to forget how stubborn his aunt could be once she got a bone between her teeth.
“For some reason, she’s convinced I’ll change my mind if I see the ranch up close and personal,” he muttered.
“Why is it you constantly think the worst of Big Heart Ranch?”
“This isn’t personal. I have a job to do as the foundation’s counsel. And I happen to love my aunt. I’m simply trying to protect both interests.”
Lucy stared at him, obviously biting her lip. The dark eyes glittered with unsaid words. It was clear he’d pushed her buttons and she was working hard to control her temper.
“You seem to think we’ve committed an offense,” she said. “If so, what happened to innocent until proven guilty?”
“Shouldn’t I be the one on the defense here?” he asked. “First, you fingerprint me like a criminal. Then you make me sign a release for a complete background check. Now you’re telling me I’m stuck here for six weeks.” He shook his head. “The kicker is that I get to do it while living with two other guys. I mean, come on. You must be kidding.”
“You’ll be living like all the other volunteers. Think of this as summer camp for grown-ups.” Lucy looked him up and down. “As for the other, we’re entrusting you to care for our children. Children who have already suffered more in their short lives than you can even comprehend. These are children who have been abandoned, neglected and even abused. This isn’t kiddie rehab, Mr. Harris. They don’t come here to be fixed. They come here to live a normal life. We are their life. We are their family. Forever.” She paused. “Makes your trivial complaints seem insignificant, wouldn’t you say?”
“Believe it or not, I did my homework, Ms. Maxwell. I understand the ranch mission statement.”
She raised her brows.
“First Corinthians thirteen. Faith, hope and love. Faith in God, hope for tomorrow, and unconditional love.”
When her lips tilted into a huge smile, the effect nearly knocked him over. A guy could get addicted to a smile like that if he wasn’t careful.
“You memorized our mission statement.” The words were a hushed whisper. “I’m impressed.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” he muttered.
“A lot of prayer and thought went into that mission statement, so yes. I am impressed.”
He offered a short nod.
She handed him papers from the clipboard in her hands. “A list of recommended gear you’ll need for the summer. Oh, and the schedule and a map of the boys’ ranch, girls’ ranch and important facilities. Phone numbers are listed, as well.”
Jack glanced down at the form on top of the papers. “What’s this? Yet another form?”
“Waiver of liability. If you choose to ride our horses without the recommended safety helmet, we need this signed.”
“Do you wear a helmet?”
“It depends on the situation.” She met his gaze. “Oh, and by the way, other than me, only Travis and Lucy are aware you’re from the Brisbane Foundation. You are simply a summer volunteer, as far as everyone else is concerned.”
“So I’m undercover? Why the big secret?”
“I don’t want anyone to panic, and actually, Mr. Harris, it’s to your advantage.”
“How’s that?”
“If everyone believes you’re part of the team, they’ll be open and transparent while you’re here.”
“If you say so,” he replied.
“I do.” Lucy pulled out a key and opened the bunkhouse door before dropping it into his hand. “Welcome to your new home. This is bunkhouse number one. It has all the amenities you should need—coffeemaker, microwave. If you need something more, let us know. We’ll vote on it at the next budget meeting. Of course, that won’t be until after the foundation makes their funding decisions.”
A smiling Travis greeted them at the door. “Hey, Jack. You’re bunking with us? Great.” He held open the screen. “Come on in.”
Jack folded the papers from Lucy and put them in his back pocket as he moved into the living quarters. “You live here?”
“Only during the summer,” Travis said. “It’s easier than driving home after a twelve-hour day, so I moved my stuff over today.” Travis tossed his black Stetson on a bunk and winked at Lucy. “Besides, it keeps the boss happy, because if the boss isn’t happy, nobody is happy.”
“Keep it up, little brother,” Lucy muttered.
“Who...” Jack waved a hand at the other bunk.
“Tripp Walker,” Travis said. “The horse whisperer. Doesn’t talk much. If it involves horses, though, Tripp is your point of contact.”
Jack nodded.
Travis looked from Lucy to Jack. “Madame Director giving you a hard time?”
“One might conclude that.”
“Her bark is worse than her bite,” Travis returned, as though she wasn’t in the room.
Lucy offered her brother a slow nod, obviously letting him know he could expect payback for his comments. Jack couldn’t help but smile at the affectionate sibling interaction. A part of him was envious at their bond. Would he and Daniel have been like Lucy and Travis? He brushed the thought away.
Travis turned to Lucy. “I just got a call. Beau is loose. We’re on lockdown.”
Lucy released a breath. “Of course he is. Any sightings?”
“Not yet.”
“Did you drive the Ute over, Trav?” Lucy asked.
“Yeah. It’s parked behind out back, on the street.”
“Mind if I borrow it to take Mr. Harris on a little tour?”
“No problem.” He tossed her the keys.
“Ute?” Jack asked as he followed Lucy out the back door and down a gravel walk.
“Utility vehicle. Like if a Jeep and a golf cart had a child.”
Jack smiled when he saw the black vehicle with the ranch logo emblazoned on the hood. “That’s a fitting description,” he said as he slid into the doorless passenger side.
“What was Travis talking about? Beau?”
“The boys’ ranch mascot. Beau is literally an old goat. He’s nearly blind, mostly hard of hearing, yet somehow, he manages to get out of his corral now and then.”
“A goat?”
She nodded. “You better fasten your seat belt, Mr. Harris. Around here you never can tell what might be waiting down the road.”
He stretched the seat belt across himself and connected it with a click. “Couldn’t you call me Jack or Jackson? Mr. Harris seems a little formal.”
Lucy shrugged. “That’s fine. However, our children will be calling you Mr. Jack. Those are the rules.”
“What about you?” he asked.
“What about me?” Lucy put a hand on the gearshift knob.
“What do they call you?”
“Miss Lucy works.” She paused. “I mean for the kids. You may call me Lucy.”
“Thanks, Lucy.”
She shot him a sidelong glance.
“Can