“Sullivan Ranch and KidCare are quite a team,” Margaret said, while Will loaded the last of her supplies into the backseat of her cream-colored Mercedes. He closed the door and handed her the keys.
“Aren’t we?” she persisted, slipping the keys into her purse on the top of the car.
Will nodded in agreement, wary of where the conversation was going.
June bugs drawn by the overhead mercury lights danced around them. Will swatted the insects away with a sweep of his hat.
“And it isn’t just the ranch, Will,” Margaret said. “It’s you. I insisted to Ed that you were the right man for the job. You know, we both feel close to you, like you’re our own son.”
Will said nothing, not wanting to offend Margaret or Ed. Fact was he wasn’t looking for adoption. Merely a business partner, and a temporary one at that.
Margaret continued. “Why, with Ed’s grooming, you’re going to be important in this community in no time.”
He rubbed his fingers over the smooth surface of his Stetson. “Being important isn’t real high on my list.”
“Nonetheless,” she continued, slapping at a mosquito. “Sullivan Ranch is already getting enormous publicity. In fact, did I tell you we had calls asking if you’d participate in a bachelor auction?”
“No way.”
“Yes. Really.”
“No. I mean there is no way I am doing anything like that.”
“Why not? Ryan Jones is going to. It’s for Children’s Hospital.”
“That’s Jones’s business.”
“But—”
“No, Margaret. Ask me for a donation, ask me to hold a fundraiser at the ranch, but don’t ask me to exploit myself and compromise my privacy.”
“We can discuss it another time.”
Will shook his head. He was too tired to argue. He’d deal directly with Ed next week, and nip this nonsense right in the horse’s behind.
Margaret perked up. “I’m going to call Ed tonight and give him a full report. Everything went extremely well. You saved a potentially disastrous situation.”
“Annie did that. She was an answer to a prayer, you might say.” He smiled, remembering Annie’s comment about serious prayer. Sure, it had stopped raining eventually, but since the ground remained sloppy, using the barn was the best solution all the way around.
“Annie had the idea but it was you who implemented the plan.”
“Ah, thanks. You know, there is one thing. I’d like a copy of the liability releases and contact information to be on file at the ranch before the next program.”
Margaret stiffened. “That was a communication error. My assistant didn’t understand that KidCare was partnering with Sullivan Ranch. I have them at the office if we really need them.”
“Better to have them here in case there is a problem during the night.”
“Of course. I’ll take care of it immediately.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a BlackBerry, quickly inserting a note. “The next KidCare project isn’t until Friday, correct? The hot dog roast event.”
“Yeah, the next two Fridays are pretty much the same—hayrides, weenie roast and marshmallows round the campfire. And I have a few projects of my own going on.”
“You’re booking your own programs?”
“I have bills to pay.”
That was an understatement. While the new venture promised to generate revenue, at this point future business didn’t balance out the considerable new monthly debt he was incurring today. There were part-time employees to pay, as well as continued upgrades and plain old maintenance to the ranch.
“You know Ed and I have said over and over that he’d be glad to underwrite you.”
“This is Sullivan Ranch. It’s been an independent operation for four generations. I intend to keep it that way.”
The grip on his hat tightened. If he needed financing he’d take the problem to the bank. He wasn’t going to be obligated to KidCare except within the parameters of their current working contract.
“You know it takes time to build your base of customers. But by next summer you’ll be booked solid with KidCare projects,” Margaret said.
“I understand that. But I have to do what I can for the ranch now. That includes bringing in my own clientele if and when I can.”
“What do you have scheduled this week?”
“The cabins are booked for a three-day family reunion. Also have a party coming down for group riding lessons. Early next week a women’s club is scheduled for a two-day retreat.”
“I’m sure that’s fine, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your big programs with KidCare.”
“I wasn’t exactly asking your permission, Margaret.”
She inhaled sharply. “I’m simply protecting our interests at KidCare. We don’t want any scheduling conflicts, now do we?”
“Not going to happen.” He might not have a personal assistant at his beck and call, but he had everything he needed on a spreadsheet in his laptop.
“I think it would be prudent to sit down and coordinate our calendars. How about Monday? You could come out to the house. Ed would love a personal update.”
Will shook his head. Yeah, that was just what he needed, Margaret having his every move for the next six months on her BlackBerry. He made a noise of regret. “Thanks, but that won’t work. Next week is packed. Rose has to go into town for her post-op checkup. I think Annie has a doctor visit coming up soon.”
Too bad he couldn’t quite remember when that was.
“I see. Well, I hope you aren’t overextending yourself.” She crossed her arms and tapped her boot on the gravel drive. “Your KidCare duties must come first.”
Will bit back a wave of irritation. “Margaret, I have it under control.”
“Is the launch party Sunday night on your schedule? I planned the entire party around your KidCare schedule.”
“I’ll be there.”
“You’re sure?”
“I said I’ll be there, Margaret.”
She eased up, a small smile appearing. “I’m looking forward to this get-together.”
“Did Chris and Joanie LaFarge confirm?”
“Yes, and so did Ryan Jones. I can’t wait to introduce him to Annie. I know they’re going to click. They have so much in common.”
“Annie and Doc Jones?” Why did that idea sour his stomach? He shoved back his Stetson and slid his hands in his pockets. “Like what?”
“Well, they’re both in the medical profession.”
“He’s a vet.”
“He’s a doctor of veterinary medicine. They’re both so much alike.” She gave a satisfied smile.
“Alike? How do you figure? Jones is rich and Annie is just…Annie.”
Margaret ignored his comment. “Did you know Ryan did a medical-missions stint a few years ago?”
“Where? At the country club?”
“No, in Mexico.”
Will stiffened. Great. Just what he needed, every corner he turned someone was bring up Mexico.
“Besides, their personalities mesh. Annie is vivacious and Ryan is extremely outgoing.”
Will groaned. “Outgoing? Jones is a rodeo clown.”
“You’re such a pessimist. I have a hunch they are going to hit it off.”
“I s’pose.” What he really supposed was that Margaret was a terminal matchmaker.
“Well, I guess I had better get going. I have to be back early in the morning.”
“That isn’t necessary. I can serve breakfast just fine.”
“Oh, no. Sullivan Ranch and KidCare are partners. I wouldn’t think of abandoning you.”
“Suit yourself, Margaret, but it’s only bagels. Even I can handle that.” He paused. “You know, I’m wondering why we use a caterer for breakfast if it isn’t a hot meal.”
“Because KidCare always negotiates with the caterers for these projects.”
“Seems to me ‘always’ isn’t a good enough reason. I’ll work up some comparisons and see what the numbers say.”
“Ed will not be pleased to hear that.”
Will glanced at his watch. “Sure is getting late. I’m thinking we can review this later.”
“Hey, wake up.” Will bent over Annie’s sleeping form and gently shook her shoulder. She shifted slightly on the love seat and drew the afghan closer.
“Annie.”
“Go away,” she said, swatting at his hand. “I don’t work today. Umbala is opening the clinic this morning.”
“Annie. Come on. It’s Will. Wake up.”
“Huh?” She blinked and rolled to her back. Eyes wide, she stared, not really seeing him at all.
“You were hollering in your sleep.”
“What did I say?”
“I couldn’t make it out. You yelled something in another language.”
Annie straightened her twisted sweatshirt and looked around. A lock of hair had come loose from her braid, and she pushed the strand back as she struggled to sit up. Her face bore a red crease line from the corded sofa pillow. “Did I wake Rose and Ellen?”
“I don’t think so.” He reached to turn on the lamp.
“No,” she said, her hand on his sleeve.
The room was silent except for the rhythmic ticking of the grandmother clock on the mantel.
“It was so real,” she whispered, pain and fear lacing her voice.
“What?”
“The clinic. I was at the clinic. They had rifles.” Her eyes became huge dark orbs as she spoke. “Windows broken. Glass everywhere.” She sucked in a breath. “All we could do was run.” Annie paused, brows furrowed, her face a mask of fear.
Will hesitated to speak, sensing there was more to come. The hairs on his neck prickled in the stillness of the dark room.
“I grabbed the boy. He was running behind his mother. She held the baby.” Annie stopped speaking for a moment, sucked in a breath and then went on, her words slow, thick and measured. “A rock. I flew across the dirt.” Again she paused. “The child was under me when the rifle…”
Will’s body stiffened in sudden shock. She’d been so close to death. So close.
“My leg was on fire.”
The minutes stretched. She sniffed the air as though she could still smell the burned flesh and gunpowder. Suddenly she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.
“What is it?” he asked, pulling the quilt from the back of the couch and covering her thin shoulders.
Her gaze pinned him as she began to rock back and forth. “The mother,” she breathed. “She died. Right in my arms.”
“I am so sorry, Annie.”
Annie stilled. Silent tears slipped from her eyes, trailing slowly down her face. “Will, she had her whole life in front of her. Two children. A future. She died protecting her babies.”
Will sat down on the couch and leaned Annie against his chest holding her as she cried.
The first tears he’d ever seen Annie Harris cry.
She was such a sprite. While her tears were noiseless, his heart ached loudly for her grief.
When she finished, he still held her, until all that remained was the deep, shuddering breaths that continued for several more minutes.
“I’ve been thinking about death a lot lately,” she whispered, her words warm against his shirt.
“Now why would you do that?” he asked.
“Because I’m alive.”
“Ah, Annie. That is in God’s hands.”
“Yes, but there has to be a reason.”
“Yeah. I used to think there had to be a reason for everything.”
Leaning away from his embrace, she sniffed and wiped her face with the back of a hand.
“You’ve been awfully philosophical lately,” he said.
“Have I?” She pulled her knees to her chest. “I suppose so. I’ve spent my whole life not thinking, avoiding thinking. Kenya has made me realize that God has something for me. I can’t be afraid anymore.”
“I can’t see you being afraid of anything.”
“But I have been. All my life, I’ve been afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Lots of things.” Will frowned.
“Mostly afraid that I’ll become be like my mother.”
“Your mother?” he asked, confused. “Annie, you are nothing like your mother. Anyone can see that.”
“I’m not so sure,” she answered.
“Besides, we all have fears,” Will said.
“Yes, but when they keep us from living the life the Lord wants for us, fear owns us and we aren’t living.” Her gaze connected with his. “Don’t you see, Will? There is no in-between. There’s life and there’s death.”
“What about those times when life becomes more difficult than death? Does that qualify as in-between?”
She looked up at him, brows knitted. “I don’t understand.”
His mind took him to the last tortuous months his father was alive, and he let out a deep breath. “My father suffered more than anyone ought to have to suffer.”
“He was in pain?”
“No, not that kind of suffering. His body betrayed him.”
Her hand reached out to clasp his. He accepted the strength she offered.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No one knew but Rose and his doctor. And Pastor Jameson.” Will gave a half laugh. “Dad wasn’t going to let the pastor in the house. But Pastor Jameson is almost as stubborn as my father. He came, invited or not, once a week for years.”
They were silent, Annie gripping his hand in the dark room. He had to admit, it was a relief to share those things that stayed bottled up inside him for too long. Share with someone who had no expectations, no judgments, but merely listened.
Annie released a sound of weariness. “Oh, Will. I don’t know what to say. I thought I had it all figured out.”
“Hey, you don’t have to say anything. And you sure don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”
“That’s good.” She gave a tremulous smile. “What time is it anyhow?”
“Nearly midnight.”
“Are your kids settled down?”
“Yeah, most of them are asleep. I checked in with the camp leader. Margaret just left. She’ll be back in the morning.”
“How did it go?”
“I think we can call our first project a success.”
“Congratulations.”
“I’m real glad you’re smarter than I am. The barn saved the situation.”
“I’m not smarter. I’ve lived on my toes all my life. Believe me, I’ve cultivated the art of improvisation.”
“Lucky for me, I’d say.”
Annie smiled.
“I’m going to put up a lean-to for the wagons, permanently get rid of that old equipment and do a little work on that barn.”
“What are you thinking?” Annie asked, her eyes bright with excitement.
“Fix up part of the floor to start. Good to have the barn properly prepared when we need it as a backup. Who knows? Might come in handy for a barn dance, or a concert sometime.”
“Or a wedding.”
“I guess.”
“You could put a first-aid station out there.”
“Absolutely.”
“A refrigerator and big freezer might be a good idea.”
“Great minds. I was figuring maybe I could forget the caterer on some of those small projects. You know the ones where all we’re doing is supervising cookouts. Save me some cash and time if I can buy in bulk. Soda, juice, hot dogs and buns.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and released a noise of pain. “I’ll have to check the details on my permits.”
“Permits?”
“Annie, I’ve got permits coming and going around this place. I can’t scratch my nose without a permit.”
She laughed.
The mantel clock began to chime.
“You better get some sleep,” Annie said.
“I will. Need to wind down a bit first. What about you?”
“Going to bed.” She stood and stretched. “I’m sore all over.”
“You ought to be after all the work you did today.” He folded the afghan while Annie arranged the quilt on the back of the love seat. Turning, Will bumped right into Annie. The sofa pillow tumbled from her hands.
“Oh, sorry,” he said with a chuckle. “I almost knocked you over.”
She grabbed the pillow and threw it at him. “Watch it there, cowboy.”
When he returned the favor, tossing the pillow back, she ducked. The pillow and a picture frame on the coffee table sailed through the air.
They both stood still as the frame clattered to the floor. Will glanced from Annie to the upstairs hallway.
“You are such a troublemaker,” he whispered.
“But I’m your favorite troublemaker.” She giggled, then covered her mouth with a hand.
He smiled at the sparkle in her dark eyes and the dimple in her left cheek as she fought back laughter. Not just any sprite. Annie was an endearingly lovely sprite. “Yeah,” he breathed softly. “You are.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Annie cleared her throat. “Um, well, I better get to bed. Night, Will.”
“Night, Annie.”
“And, Will?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you.”
He shook his head. “No, Annie. Thank you.”