“Not at all.”
His fingers tapped out a beat on the steering wheel in time to the country-western song on the radio.
“Funny our paths haven’t crossed before now,” he finally said.
“How long have you been in Timber?”
“A little over five years.”
“How did you end up here with the ranch?” AJ asked.
“After we were fished out of foster care, by a cousin of our mother’s, we lived in Pawhuska. My sisters and I didn’t even know about the land in Timber until she passed on and left it to us.”
AJ nodded and watched the tall prairie grass out the truck window.
“So what’s your plan?” Travis asked.
“My plan?” She looked at him.
“Yeah. I’m guessing you aren’t here for the long haul.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Big Heart Ranch obviously is not the last stop on your trail.”
AJ stared at him, suddenly bone-weary. If only he knew how much she longed to be in it for the long haul, as he put it. She took a deep breath, shoving back the emotion burning behind her eyes. The emotion she could never reveal because every time she did, she was disappointed. Again.
“I’ll stop when I know that I’m where God wants me to be. Then it will be time to put down roots.”
“What’s if that’s Big Heart Ranch?”
“I’m not ruling it out.”
Silence hung in the air as AJ considered his words. Her plan? God’s plan? She’d take either at the moment, praying one of those plans included an end to her drifting, and finding a place where she was actually wanted. Needed.
“Mind if I ask a personal question?” he finally said.
“I won’t know if I mind until you ask.”
“Fair enough.” A small smile lifted his lips. “Who’s Gus?”
“My horse. A gift from my mother.”
“Why don’t you move him over to Big Heart?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I understand complicated. Why don’t you try me?”
“Look, I’d rather not move Gus and have to move him back if this job doesn’t work out. Besides, Gus had a pretty big vet bill a while back and I’m still paying Lem for that.”
“This is your call, but I’m happy to help.”
“I’d rather do things my way.”
“Understood.” Travis cleared his throat. “Any idea how Jace knows that we’re applying for the grant?”
“What?” Her head jerked up at the quietly spoken question and she met Travis’s gaze.
“How does—”
“I have no idea.” She paused, struggling to read between the lines of his question. “You don’t think I told him, do you?”
“Just asking.” Travis took a deep breath.
“‘Just asking’ sounds an awful lot like an accusation to me.”
“Whoa.” He raised a hand. “I’m just doing the math.”
“You can subtract me from your equation.”
“I apologize,” Travis said.
AJ was silent, uncertain if he was sincere.
“Look,” Travis said. “You don’t know me and I really don’t know you. All I’m doing is trying to figure things out.”
Trying to figure things out. She turned to look out the window without answering. What was there to figure out? In truth, she and Travis were alike in many ways. Maybe too many ways. The thought was far from comforting and it wouldn’t secure her position at Big Heart Ranch. Not if her boss didn’t trust her.
“We sure have our work cut out for us,” Travis mused aloud minutes later. “Take tomorrow off to study the grant material. On Monday we hit the ground running. You’ll go to Tulsa with me to look at starter calves. There’s a special sale going on at an auction house near Sapulpa and then we can pick up the supplies I ordered in Pawhuska on the way back.”
“What about hiring? And who will do Rusty’s work in the meantime?”
“I have confidence you’ll figure it out. That’s what days off are for.”
“You just said—”
“Welcome to my world. You’ll be juggling saddles from this point on. And remember, that grant is my number one priority. We’re competing against Jace McAlester and he’s going to do everything he can to see that he wins.”
Juggling saddles she could handle, but why did she feel like she was caught in the middle of a tornado and the chance she’d make it out untouched was slim to nothing? She was a woman of her word, though, and was willing to pledge her heart and soul to Big Heart Ranch for the next ninety days with the hope she wouldn’t regret the decision. Once the grant was behind them, she’d reevaluate her position on the ranch. That was unless she didn’t last ninety days.
AJ stood on the porch of the bunkhouse, looking out at the ranch while sipping a cup of coffee. Dark clouds covered the sky, shrouding everything in black and gray, even as the sun struggled to wake the land at 6:30 a.m. The month of April brought the heaviest amounts of precipitation to this part of Oklahoma. Today was about to give evidence to that.
Her first Sunday at Big Heart Ranch. Despite the weather, there was a peace to the land that reminded her of days on Red River Ranch, her daddy’s spread. What would her life be like if her parents hadn’t died? AJ pushed the thought aside.
The only thing she carried from the past was the promise she’d made to herself when she’d buried her mother. Someday she’d be a permanent part of a ranch that needed her. Wanted her. And she intended to keep that promise.
Something moved to her left and AJ switched on the porch light. A roadrunner dashed across the yard, his long, slender legs kicking up red dust.
Sunrise would arrive within the hour. Her plan was to be well on her way to checking the fences by then. She’d be done and could shower and catch the late service at the Timber Community Church if all went well.
Stepping back into the bunkhouse she rinsed out her cup and tidied up, leaving everything the way she’d found it. Nothing out of place. Rue Butterfield had left last night and now AJ had the bunkhouse to herself. She remained unsettled and a bit afraid to hope that she might have a future here. Lucy and Emma Maxwell were her biggest supporters. Now all she had to do was to continue to prove to Travis she could do the job.
Rue’s King James Bible was still on her bed and AJ peeked at the open page as she walked by. A verse had been underlined with a red pen. Proverbs 3:5–6. “Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.”
AJ put a hand to her heart and swallowed. That was pretty much the story of her life. She said a silent prayer as she tucked a disposable rain slicker into the pocket of her denim jacket, grabbed her hat and carefully closed the bunkhouse door behind her.
The air was ripe with the scent of rain and, despite her prayer, an undefinable dread followed her as she headed to the Ute. Shivers danced down her arms all the way to the equestrian center. Why the ominous feeling?