place is all yours.”
“I can’t imagine having this whole house to myself. This is magnificent, Joe. My apartment in New York can fit into it about forty times!” Her excitement faded. “But if I wasn’t here, you could have stayed in your home instead of at the bunkhouse.”
“No, I always bunk with the kids during Cowboy Quest. So make yourself at home.”
The only other woman who had ever stayed at his ranch was Ellen Rogers. Ellen had stolen his heart when she kissed him on the playground in fourth grade, after he’d stopped some boys from teasing her.
That was about the time he learned that he didn’t have to start swinging his fists to get his point across. His size alone—even in grade school—made him seem formidable.
They’d become lifelong friends after that. Inseparable. Her parents had the neighboring ranch, about twenty miles away, and their spread was almost as big as the Silver River.
He’d asked Ellen to marry him when they graduated from college, and she’d agreed—but she didn’t seem as excited as he’d expected. Then she broke up with him four months later and moved to Los Angeles, where she’d taken a job with a software company. He couldn’t remember the details; all he heard was her voice saying, “I’m sorry, Joe. But I don’t want to live on a ranch. I want more.”
He still wondered if she’d ever truly loved him. If she had, then they could have worked something out. But instead, she’d picked concrete, high-rises and crowds over his Silver River Ranch.
And all his dreams went up in smoke.
He’d built up the Silver River Ranch in the hope he’d have a wife and kids to share it with, but obviously that wasn’t in the cards. At least the ranch was solid and dependable. Women were flighty and fickle—and he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
A crash brought him back to reality. It was Maggie, scared by Calico, his aunt’s cat.
Luckily, it was only a suitcase that she had kicked over—it had hit the wooden floor with a solid smack. As Maggie scrambled to right it, he noticed that her hands were shaking.
She was nervous, and he didn’t think that it was just the cat.
Was it him? Or the situation?
“Maggie, have you ever been on a ranch before?” he asked.
“No.”
“Have you ever ridden a horse?”
“No.”
“Are you scared to ride?” he asked. “Or just nervous?”
“A little of both.” She bit her lip—the simple gesture made his blood heat for some reason.
“Okay, I’m a lot scared and a lot nervous. I’m scared of losing Danny to the system. I’m scared of the whole cattle drive. But mostly, I’m scared that Cowboy Quest won’t be enough to help us fix what’s broken.”
Joe wanted to take Maggie’s hand and assure her that everything would be okay, that Cowboy Quest was all about improving communication skills and team building, but he didn’t dare touch her. Nor did he want to tell her that, from what he’d read, Maggie and Danny simply needed time together.
If she hadn’t already figured that out, she would.
“Please don’t worry, Maggie. Believe me, all your concerns will be addressed. If not, just come to me.”
She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “Thank you. That makes me feel much better. And I’ll come to you for any help I may need. I really want to make the most out of your program.”
“Perfect. That’s just what I want to hear.”
Then it dawned on him.
Since she was the first adult that he had in his program, and a woman at that, he’d have to make some concessions for her, like separate facilities and her own tent for the cattle drive. But he couldn’t afford to make too many allowances for her lack of experience when he had a lot to accomplish before the cattle drive started.
Joe also knew that Maggie wasn’t likely to confide in him too much. But he was sympathetic to Maggie’s problems with Danny. He knew what was at stake for them both, and she had a darn good reason to worry.
Adding that to the fact that she needed to complete Cowboy Quest with Danny—and learn to ride, apparently—he definitely could empathize with what she was going through.
He’d do everything possible to help her.
He felt like he already knew her—at least, Maggie the performer. He knew she’d won a Tony award and had appeared in numerous musicals and even on TV.
He also knew things had been going fine with Danny up until his mother’s death two years ago. Then Danny started running with a bad bunch of kids. The probation officer who investigated the situation felt that Maggie’s rehearsal and performance schedule left Danny alone much too often, and that he needed more supervision.
On one of those nights when he’d snuck out of the apartment, Danny had been arrested.
In a phone call from his old college buddy, Judge Pat Cunningham in New York City, Joe had learned that Maggie had to give up rehearsals for a new show in order to participate in Cowboy Quest. Pat felt bad about that, but knew that it was important for Maggie to spend time with Danny, to bond and rebuild the stable home environment he so desperately needed.
Her intentions were admirable, but Joe hoped that it wasn’t too late. Why had she let things come to this?
“Look at all this counter space,” Maggie said, running her hand along the emerald-green granite. “I never have much time to cook, but I love it. I tape all the cooking shows and try different recipes whenever I can.”
Maggie suddenly froze in place, then slowly turned to him. “Whoa. Am I supposed to cook for everyone in the program?”
He stifled a smile. “Well, you said you liked to cook.”
When her eyebrows shot up in shock, he chuckled. “I was just kidding. The ranch has a cook, and he always loves the challenge of a dozen more mouths to feed—a baker’s dozen, counting you.”
“Joe, am I the only parent or guardian who’s participating?”
“Yes.”
She looked like she was about to hit the panic button. “Just me?”
“We have other counseling components for family members set up post-Cowboy Quest, but you are it as far as an adult and as a female who’s going to actually join the cattle drive.” He grinned. “Twelve teenage boys, six cowboy counselors and you.”
Maggie raised an eyebrow. “Why am I the only one?”
“Judge Cunningham asked me to make an exception for you, so I did. Now let me show you to your room.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
And it was. He could tell that Maggie appreciated the view of the mountains from the guest bedroom, the balcony off the room with several lawn chairs and a table, the big log bed and the brightly striped Hudson’s Bay blankets that he’d acquired over the years.
There were several items handed down from his grandparents—his mother’s parents—that impressed her. He’d carefully preserved them in shadow boxes that he’d made and displayed them throughout the house.
His grandmother’s baskets and several pieces of clothing with her original beadwork, medicine bags—none of it escaped Maggie’s attention.
“And these photographs…fabulous.” She seemed to be talking to herself, then she turned to him. “Who is the photographer?”
“My dad. My mother is a travel reporter, and my father was a rancher and a stock contractor. I learned the business from him. But on the day I graduated