Clay shrugged and the fabric of his western shirt stretched tight against shoulders made broad by years of ranch work. “She was an injured stray I found a year or so ago. All scratched up from a fight with some prickly poppy she got tangled up in.”
“Hence the name,” she said.
“Yep and to be honest, you’d be helping me out by taking her. I need room for a new stud I want to buy for the Bar None.”
“Are there many strays in the area, Clay?” Jewel asked as she leaned on the top rail of the fence, vigilantly keeping an eye on the children.
“Occasionally. Why do you ask?” he said and pulled off his hat, wiped at a line of sweat with a bandanna.
Jewel dragged a hand through the short strands of her light brown hair, suddenly uneasy. “I’ve heard noises in the night.”
“Me, too,” Ana chimed in. “It sounds like a baby crying or maybe a small animal in pain.”
“Yes, exactly,” Jewel confirmed. “Not all the time, just every now and then.”
Clay jammed his white Stetson back on his head and glanced in the direction of the two boys, squinting against the sun as he did so. “I haven’t heard anything up my way, but I can swing by one night and check it out for you.”
He motioned with a work-roughened hand to the two boys. “They’ll make fine ranch hands. Remind me of Ryder and myself when we were kids. We loved being around the horses more than anything.”
Macy couldn’t miss the wistfulness in his voice as Clay spoke of his younger brother. Much like T.J., Ryder had begun getting into trouble as a teen, but then it had gotten progressively worse until Ryder had ended up in jail for smuggling aliens across the border.
“Have you heard from your brother lately?” she asked, wondering if Clay had relented from his stance to disavow his troubled brother.
“I wrote to him, but the mail came back as undeliverable.” A hard set entered his jaw and his bright blue eyes lost the happy gleam from watching the children.
“Maybe your brother was moved?” Ana offered, laying a gentle hand on Clay’s arm.
He nodded and smiled stiffly. “Maybe, Miss Ana. I just hope it’s not too late to make amends with my little brother. I’m going to try to call someone at the prison to see what’s happening with him.”
“I think you’re right to put the past behind you and try to make things right with Ryder,” Jewel added, but then stepped away to help the boys with one of the younger children who seemed to be afraid of the mare.
Ana went over as well to help since the child was Mexican and still learning English, leaving Macy alone with Clay.
“You’ll work things out with your brother,” she said, trying to offer comfort. Clay was a good man and she hated to see him upset.
“I hope so. It’s never too late to make amends with the people from our past, Macy. You should understand that more than some,” he said, surprising her.
She examined his face, searching for the meaning behind his words. Wondering if he somehow knew about her and Fisher. About T.J.
“I do understand,” she said, waiting for him to say more so that she could confirm the worst of her fears, but he didn’t. Instead, he shouted out his farewell to everyone, walked over to his stallion and climbed up into his saddle.
“Take good care of her, men. I’ll be back later to show you how to groom her, handle the feeding and keep the stall clean,” he added with a wave to the boys before leaving.
Both T.J. and Joe straightened higher at his comment. She hadn’t been wrong in wanting to marry Jericho to give her son a man’s presence in his life. It was obvious from just this slight interaction that both boys had responded positively to the added responsibility and to being treated as adults.
Small steps. Positive ones.
She should be grateful for that, but Clay’s words rang in her head as she stepped over to help Jewel and Ana with the rest of the children.
It’s never too late to make amends with the people from our past.
As much as she hoped that he was right, she also prayed that she would not have to make amends before T.J. was ready to handle it.
Chapter 3
The mare had been a wonderful addition to their program at the ranch, Macy thought as she watched the teens working together in the stalls and adjacent corral.
She and Jewel had discussed how to incorporate the responsibilities for the mare into a program for the children. They had broken them up into rotating teams that took turns with the mare’s care and feeding. In addition, she worked with the tweens and teens, including T.J. and Joe, to improve how they handled the mare. Setting up a series of small tests, she encouraged each of the teens until they were all able to take turns not only outfitting and riding the mare, but watching and helping the younger children with the horse.
When T.J. and Joe weren’t with the groups, they were off finishing up some of the other chores around the ranch, including a ride with Clay Colton to attempt to track down the elusive sounds that Jewel was still hearing at night. But they returned from that expedition with little to show for it.
She was grateful that T.J. and Joe seemed to have bonded so quickly and so well. As the eldest amongst the children at the ranch, the others seemed to look up to them, in particular the tweens and Sara, the petite young teen who had recently joined them.
It wasn’t unusual to see the three of them together at meals and as they took an afternoon break at the pool during the heat of the day, much as they were doing today.
As she watched them frolicking in the cool waters, Jewel stepped up beside her.
“Things seem to be better,” her friend said.
“I had hopes for it, but this is more than I expected so quickly.”
“Let’s take a break.” Jewel gestured to a small table located on the covered courtyard where someone had placed a pitcher with iced tea and glasses. A few feet away from the table in the middle of the courtyard was a fountain. The sounds of the running water combined with the scents from the riot of flowers surrounding the courtyard were always calming.
With a quick nod, she sat at the table and poured tea into the two glasses, all the time keeping an eye on what was going on in the pool.
T.J. and Joe led the younger children in a game of Marco Polo, while Sara sat by the side, arms wrapped around herself in a slightly defensive stance.
“We’ve still got to get Sara to open up a bit,” she said.
Jewel picked up her glass and took a sip. “She’s been better since the boys got here, but she hasn’t been willing to say much during our one-on-one sessions.”
“Nothing about the bruises or why she ran away?” she asked, thinking of the purpling marks
