CHET WATCHED AS KIMBERLY WELCH’S SEDAN DROVE away from the house and barnyard, her daughter in the passenger seat. All things considered, the afternoon had gone much better than anticipated. Tara was a willing student and quick to obey what he said. Of course, it remained to be seen if that was temporary. Eager today. Not so much tomorrow.
With a shake of his head, he walked toward the house. Anna sat on the porch, enjoying the pleasant spring day, a glass of iced tea in one hand. Chet climbed the steps to the porch and sat in the chair next to her, his gaze on the horses in the nearest pasture.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Good.” He nodded. “Pretty good.”
“She seems like a nice girl.”
“She is. I just hope I don’t regret bringing her and her horse out here.”
“Mrs. Welch doesn’t have a job, and she’s worried how she’ll pay me for the boarding of the horse and her daughter’s lessons.” Chet shrugged. “Not like it will make or break me whether or not she pays me anything, but it seems to bother her. I’m not sure how to handle it.”
“Do you mind an old woman butting into your business? I might have an idea.”
He turned his head toward her. “Wouldn’t be butting in. Not from you, Anna. Anything you’ve got to say, I want to hear.”
Smiling, she reached out to touch his cheek with her fingertips.
“What’s your idea?”
“I wasn’t much younger than Tara when I first came to this ranch. And your grandfather put me right to work. He made me feel like I was a part of the family. That what I did made a difference. Like I belonged here. That girl”—Anna looked down the driveway—“she doesn’t feel she belongs anywhere right now.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“Heavens, no. But, you get to be my age, you pick up on things that others are too busy to notice. Little clues here and there.”
Chet wondered if he would ever learn to read people that well.
“I think you should hire Tara to do some work around here. Let her pay for the training and her lessons herself. Don’t let that fall on her mother’s narrow shoulders. If Tara wants this, she should work for it. It will be good for the girl, and it will relieve her mother’s anxiety over how to reimburse you at the same time.”
Chet grinned. “You sound like Grandpa Abe.”
“I should. Learned old-fashioned common sense from the Leonards.”
“Tara Welch is a city girl. She might be more bother than help around the barnyard and livestock.”
“Let’s start with her helping me go through things in the guesthouse. There’s lots of organizing and winnowing out that has to be done, and some of it could use a younger and stronger back than mine.”
Chet felt instant concern. “You haven’t overdone, have you?”
“In three days?” She harrumphed, her glance indignant. “I’m not that fragile, Chet. There’s still some oomph left in me.”
Her comment made him smile again.
“It’s settled then. Tara will help me organize and clean out the guesthouse as payment for boarding and lessons. There are so many decades of keepsakes and boxes of papers and who knows what all—it’ll take us weeks to go through it all.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” Chet laughed softly.
Anna sighed as she leaned back in the chair, then fell into silence as she sipped her tea.
“I’d better call her mother and tell her what’s been decided.” Chet stood. “Make sure it meets with her approval.”
“Yes, you should do that. It’ll take some worry out of Mrs. Welch’s pretty eyes.”
Chet hesitated a moment. Anna was right. Kimberly Welch did have pretty eyes. Unique eyes. A lighter shade of green than he’d seen before. Or maybe they only seemed lighter because of her dark brown lashes and eyebrows.
Not that any of that mattered to Chet.
“MOM, IF I TOOK A DRIVER’S ED CLASS, I COULD GET my license. Then I could drive out to the Leonard ranch by myself if you didn’t want to take me or if it would be too late for me to ride my bike home again.”
Kimberly looked up from the food on her dinner plate. “You aren’t sixteen yet.”
“In Idaho, kids can sign up for driver’s ed when they’re only fourteen and a half. That’s what one of the girls at school told me.”
Kimberly turned from her daughter to Janet. “Is that true?”
“Yes. Idaho’s a rural state. Farmers want their kids to drive tractors or be able to take the truck to the nearest town to pick up supplies. Plenty of folks in these mountains have been driving anything and everything since they were fourteen.”
Kimberly shook her head in disbelief.
“Please, Mom.”
“Sweetheart, even if you took a class and got licensed, I don’t think I could afford insurance for you. Not until I get a job.”
Tara dropped her fork onto her plate and pushed back her chair. “It isn’t fair. That’s always your answer. We don’t have the money. I hate this!” She darted from the kitchen.
Kimberly fought the tears that flooded her eyes, determined they wouldn’t fall.
“Teenagers are like that sometimes,” Janet said softly. “It isn’t personal. Not really.”
“I know.” She drew a deep breath. “What Tara doesn’t seem to know is how much I hate having to say no to her.”
Janet patted Kimberly’s shoulder. “Hang in there, girlfriend. It’ll get better.”
Would it get better? It didn’t seem that way.
The telephone rang, and Janet got up to answer it. A moment later, she said, “It’s for you, Kimmie. Chet Leonard.”
Her stomach flip-flopped at the sound of his name. If he’d changed his mind—and why else would he be calling?—Tara would blame her for that too. With great reluctance, she walked to where Janet stood holding out the receiver. She took the phone and put it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Mrs. Welch?”
“Yes.”
“Chet Leonard.”
She could hardly hear him over the hammering of her heart.
“About your daughter and her horse.”
“Yes?” The word came out a breathless whisper.
“I know you’re concerned how to pay for the boarding and lessons, but I think we have a solution. Instead of you paying cash, we thought Tara could work for us here on the ranch.”
There came those tears again. Nothing Tara could do on the ranch would come anywhere close to covering his fees. She was certain of that. His generosity touched her, as did his sensitivity toward her situation. He’d managed to let her keep a little of her pride.
“It would mean she’d have to spend more hours out here. Not just when she’s working with the horse.”
“What . . . what would she be doing?”
“It’ll probably change over time. But to start, she’d be helping Anna sort through boxes and such in our old guesthouse. She can help feed the horses and shovel out stalls too.”
“Mr. Leonard—”
“How about you call me Chet and I’ll call you Kimberly?”
“Sure. Okay. Chet, how often would you need Tara to come out to work?” The price of gas flashed in her head, followed immediately by the small balance in her checkbook.
“Saturdays and a couple other days during the week until school lets out. More often during the summer.”
She released a soft sigh. “It sounds very generous.” Too generous, perhaps, but an offer she couldn’t refuse.
“Great. Then let’s plan for her to start next Saturday morning. She can help Ms. McKenna for a few hours, and then Tara and I will do some work with her horse.”
“All right. Thank you, Mr. L—Chet.”
He was silent a moment before saying, “You’re welcome, Kimberly.”