Effie gravitated toward the barn. “Let me take care of the stranger’s horse.”
Effie led the chestnut into the cathedral-like barn, setting the wallet on top of a hay bale. The structure’s ancient wood creaked in the light breeze. She never tired of the smells of hay and worn leather tack and a trace of manure.
Mabel had inherited the ranch from her third husband, Dwayne, a few years earlier. They’d celebrated their thirtieth anniversary before he died from cancer. He’d been a kind, loving man—far better than Effie’s no-account grandfather, who’d gone to jail for cattle rustling a year after their vows.
Poor Mabel had then married his brother, but that marriage hadn’t turned out much better. He’d been a moonshiner who’d gone and gotten himself shot and died a week later from his wound.
After leading the horse to a stall, Effie removed his saddle and set it atop a rack. She then brushed the creature, calming him with each stroke.
The adrenaline rush of finding the unconscious man had reminded her all too much of the first time she’d seen her own ex-husband, Moody, bucked from the back of a bull. He’d lain on the rodeo arena’s soft dirt for a good five minutes before paramedics helped him come around. She’d been six months pregnant with the twins and feared going into early labor from the terror of finding her reckless husband paralyzed or dead.
That night marked the beginning of the end of their marriage—not because he’d been seriously injured, but because he hadn’t. Instead of being relieved to the point that he gave up his PBR dreams to settle down with a nice, safe nine-to-five job, he’d doubled the amount of bull-riding competitions he entered. She’d prayed that once the boys were born he’d realize it was time to call it quits, but he refused.
She’d fooled herself into thinking love would be enough to sustain her through life on the road with newborns and then toddlers, but when the twins turned five and were eager to start school, she’d put her foot down, demanding Moody stop for the sake of their family.
He’d again refused, leaving her with no choice but to go on without him in the hopes that he’d soon miss her and the boys badly enough to realize he needed them more than adrenaline.
Her parents had offered to take her and the boys in, but they led such active lives back in Oklahoma City, where she’d grown up, that she couldn’t imagine how she and the boys would fit in.
When Effie’s widowed grandmother, Mabel, suggested it would be a godsend for Effie to move in and help, she’d jumped at the offer. Not for one second did she believe her high-octane, square-dance-a-holic grandma actually needed her, but she was beyond grateful for the safe place for her little family to land.
Once the twins started school, Moody visited whenever he had the chance, but those times dwindled to the point that if she hadn’t been so determined to stand by her marriage vows, she might have considered asking for a divorce. Cassidy had been conceived the last time Effie had been with Moody. She’d been two months pregnant when he’d served her with divorce papers.
Wasn’t something Effie liked thinking about, but far from missing their little family, he’d eventually swapped them for a hot-to-trot raven-haired barrel racer whose daddy had more money than God and the tricked-out trucks and matching horse trailers to prove it.
“Mom! Gramma says hurry up and come eat!”
Startled by Colt’s interruption of the barn’s peace and her chaotic thoughts, Effie dropped the horse brush to wipe tears she hadn’t realized had been falling. “Coming!”
She knelt to retrieve the brush, then rose to smooth the chestnut’s mane. “Guess you’re probably ready for lunch, too, huh?”
The horse snorted.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She filled his water trough and gave him plenty of hay and a scoop of grain.
Her mare, Lulu, was out to pasture, grazing.
“Mom! Come on!”
“Almost done,” she said on her way out of the mystery horse’s stall.
“What took you so long?” Colt met her at the barn’s open door.
“The hurt man’s horse was overheated. He needed brushing.”
“Oh. How come your eyes are all red and puffy?”
“They are?” She swiped them again. “Must be the heat. What did Grandma make for lunch?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.”
“Sounds good. I thought you loved her grilled cheese sandwiches?”
“Yeah, but when we were at Scotty’s house on Sunday after church, his dad cooked steaks for lunch and then we went swimming and stuff. Why can’t we ever do that here? And how come Dad doesn’t want to see me anymore?”
Effie pressed her lips tight.
Where did she begin with telling her precious son that Daddy knocked up his girlfriend while he’d still been married to Mommy and now he had no interest in anyone but his new family? Then there was the not-so-little matter of child support checks that never seemed to come. Effie had dedicated her entire life to Moody. She’d even dropped out of nursing school one semester shy of graduating—stupid. But that was what love did to a girl. And she had loved that no-good cowboy with every breath of her being.
“Mom? Why can’t we have steak? And a pool with a slide? And a house that’s so cold inside that even in the summer Scotty’s mom wears a big fur coat that looks like a fox.”
Because your father is a low-down, two-timing snake who— No. She would never make the boys think their dad was anything less than the hero they believed him to be.
“Mom? I want a pool!” Colt gave up walking toward the house to hop.
“I’d like one, too.” She caught up with him and planted her hand atop his head in an attempt to calm him. “Along with a giant bathtub and air-conditioning so cold I need a coat in the middle of summer, but we have something way better than all that.”
“Like what?” The way Colt’s chin touched his chest, he didn’t look convinced.
“Love.” She smoothed his hair. “Lots and lots of love.”
“Yuck! That’s gross!” He ran toward the house. “I want steak and a pool!”
Effie sighed.
Mabel leaned out the screen door. “Eff, hon, do you have that poor stranger’s wallet?”
“I forgot it in the barn.”
“Could you please get it?” Mabel asked. “I want to call his wife. She’s no doubt beside herself with worry.”
“Agreed.” To her son, Effie said, “Colt, get in the house, and don’t forget to thank Grandma for cooking.”
“I don’t want a stupid sandwich! I want steak!” Instead of joining his brother and sister inside as he’d been told, Colt darted around the back of the house.
“The
