A Rancher for their Mom. Leann Harris

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had always said that. April felt pride her son had picked up his grandfather’s attitude and ashamed she hadn’t realized her son’s connection to the land. The boys hiring Joel should’ve sent her a clue.

      “When harvest time comes around, whoever harvests the fields you rent out might do yours, too.”

      His words, like a slap in the face, reminded her that he wouldn’t be here in the fall to harvest the crops, but they told her he knew his way around a ranch.

      The boys chatted with Joel while she drove back to the house. The instant she stopped the truck by the kitchen door, Joel slipped out and walked to the tractor. “So let’s pray that your tractor will start this morning,” Joel said, “or I’ll be using that wrench. Where’s the key?”

      “Inside the kitchen door.”

      The children stood by the truck and watched him retrieve the key, start the tractor and attach the blades to the back of it.

      “I’ll do the hay field first, then go to the west field and plow and plant the sunflowers today. I’ll replow the hay field tomorrow and plant it.”

      When his words finally registered, April’s gaze jerked to his. The man knew what to do and didn’t need her instruction or prodding. Such a simple gesture softened her heart. “Sounds good.”

      He climbed down from the seat and walked toward her. “I’ll give you my cell number in case you need to contact me.”

      April held up her hand, reached inside the truck and grabbed the pad and pencil she kept in the center console. “I’m ready.”

      He rattled off his cell-phone number.

      “I guess you should have the house number, just in case, as you said.” The corner of his mouth kicked up, making her stomach dance.

      He whipped out his phone from the front pocket of his Western shirt and entered the number as she said it.

      Once he had the number saved, he waved the boys to his side. “Okay, let’s do rock, paper, scissors to see who rides with me out to the north field. When I do the west field, the other boy will go.”

      “Aren’t they a little young to be riding in the cab?” April asked.

      “You’re never too young to learn how to use a tractor. My dad had me ride with him when I was Todd’s age, and I was plowing fields after I turned ten.”

      “Opa let me ride with him, Mom,” Wes hastily added.

      If the man had used any other argument, she would’ve shot down the idea, but the boys needed to know how to operate the machinery and how to plow if they were going to maintain the ranch. She knew Vernon had been teaching the boys, but hearing them repeat the lessons would’ve made him proud. It certainly made her smile. After surveying three waiting males, she said, “All right.”

      The boys pounded their little fists on their hands. April stood rooted to the spot, watching.

      “One. Two. Three.”

      The boys went along and Todd won.

      “Can we try again?” Wes asked.

      Joel put his hand on Wes’s shoulder. “You’re with me to plant the sunflowers.”

      Wes looked up at Joel, than at his brother. “Okay.” He didn’t argue or pout, but trusted Joel enough to go along with his turn being second.

      April worked hard not to let her jaw drop that her son offered no argument.

      “I guess Wes can help me get my vegetable garden ready to plant.”

      “And Mr. Joel told me some stuff to do around here,” Wes added.

      “Those chores can wait until you help your mom plant the garden.”

      Wes nodded.

      They watched as Joel drove the tractor to the north section of land.

      Cora looked back at April. “I go, too.”

      “We’ll work right here and plant some of your favorite vegetables.”

      “Cupcakes?”

      Wes snickered. “That’s not a vegetable. Carrots, peas, potatoes—those are vegetables.”

      Cora folded her arms over her chest and pursed her lips.

      “You like giving Sammie a carrot, don’t you?” Wes asked.

      “And you like mashed potatoes?” April added, knowing it was Cora’s favorite food.

      Cora nodded.

      “Well, we’ll plant potatoes and strawberries and watch them grow.” Throwing in the strawberries clinched the deal. Both children agreed to work in the garden.

      * * *

      April turned off the computer, finished with her accounts. She melted into her chair and took a deep breath. Relief washed over her, making her light-headed.

      “Thank You, Lord.”

      The roller-coaster events of the past couple of days still had her reeling. By dinner tonight, the sunflowers were planted, along with her garden, and she had three happy, satisfied children. Tomorrow the hay field would be done. There was hope.

      Hope.

      Such a small word, with some giant results.

      Despite her offer, Joel didn’t stay for dinner, but the boys beamed with pride as they told her how they’d helped Mr. Joel. She hadn’t seen Wes and Todd that excited about anything since before their grandfather died.

      Intrigued by the story Joel had told about his parents and his grandmother at breakfast, she felt there was something more to the story than he told. She’d like to know what he’d left out.

      “Stop,” she chided herself. Joel would only be here the balance of the week. The man’s presence had managed to scramble the brains of all members of the family, herself included. That should be a warning, flashing bright, telling her of danger. And yet, she found herself ignoring those caution lights.

      If she thought about it, Joel’s attitude differed as much from Ross’s as night from day. Joel welcomed her boys, piercing the shield she’d built around her heart in a way she couldn’t stop. When news of Ross’s death had reached April, she’d grieved with his parents, but she’d felt guilty that she wasn’t devastated. She had two little boys to take care of. When she discovered she was pregnant again, she didn’t have any time to grieve—at least, that was what she told herself. Was that simply an excuse?

      The phone rang. Instantly, April picked it up, since she didn’t want the ring to wake any of the kids. “Hello.”

      “April, honey, how are you doing and how are the kids?”

      “Hi, Mom. We’re all doing well. Are you and Dad going to be coming to spend Easter with us this year?” Her mother lived in Houston, the

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