still remain detached? Jesse wondered.
“At Wranglers we don’t counsel anyone,” Tanner enunciated. “Our job is first and foremost to befriend every kid who comes here, to make them feel this is a safe place and that we’re here to help. Together we try to reach every child who shows up.”
So maybe he could still be a kind of youth pastor, just in a different way, without letting himself get too personally involved with any of the kids. Was that what God wanted?
“I’d like to be a part of Wranglers Ranch.” Jesse held out his hand. “Thank you, Tanner.”
“Today’s Friday. Start on Monday?” Tanner smiled at his nod as he shook hands. “Noah says you’re camping out.”
“For now.” Jesse chuckled. “I had the impression Noah wouldn’t mind joining me. He got this look on his face—I gather he’s never camped before.”
“No. His father wouldn’t have allowed that.” Tanner’s expression grew solemn. “Maddie sometimes helps Sophie with our new baby, Carter, and Noah visits our kids a lot, so I’ve gotten to know the McGregor family fairly well since they moved in next door. Noah struggles to deal with his father’s death and his list of unbreakable rules.”
“Maddie told you about it?” Jesse blinked in surprise when Tanner shook his head.
“I’ve never heard Maddie talk about her husband except to say he died.” The rancher inclined his head. “I did attend Liam’s church once, years ago.”
“And?” Jesse could hardly control his curiosity about sweet Maddie’s former husband.
“Liam McGregor was much older than her, a stern man whom I thought was overly focused on details instead of God’s love. I wouldn’t say Liam found joy in his faith, more like it was his duty.” Concern lay etched in the fine lines around Tanner’s eyes. “His legacy of rule-keeping isn’t helping Noah.”
“Noah seems almost...” Jesse hesitated “...emotionally backward?”
“He’s been diagnosed as a very high functioning autistic. After Liam’s death, Maddie moved him from public school into a private setting to challenge him and to help his social awkwardness.” Tanner’s gaze turned assessing. “Noah probably feels like you did when you were so far ahead of other kids your age.”
“Then I feel sorry for him.” Jesse winced at the cascade of memories. “Social ineptitude leaves you out of the group, on your own and desperate for a friend. Except you don’t know how to make them, and if you do, it’s hard to discern which one is a real friend. You can’t reach out, or you’re afraid to in case others make fun of you. It’s a lonely place and depression can easily creep in.”
“And autism makes it ten times harder. I knew you’d be an asset here.” Tanner looked pleased by his evaluation. “Wranglers Ranch is hosting Noah’s class in a beginners’ riding group next week. Both Maddie and Noah’s teacher hope that working with the horses will help all of the kids relax their barriers, form some social bonds and develop a team spirit.”
“A few riding classes are going to do all that?” Jesse asked skeptically.
“You’ve worked with horses. Didn’t you ever feel the animals were a kindred spirit?” Tanner asked.
“My own horse, yes.” Jesse smiled in remembrance. “In fact Coal Tar seemed to sense exactly what I needed him to do before I asked, but I raised him, worked with him for years.”
“Here at Wranglers Ranch our animals are mostly abused stock that we’ve rescued. Maybe that makes them extra sensitive, but I think you’ll soon see that as the kids work with their horses week after week, a bond develops. A kind of mutual trust.” Tanner’s self-deprecating shrug said a lot. “We’ve seen it happen over and over. Time at Wranglers Ranch with our horses always brings a change in the kids. You’ll see it, too, Jesse.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” And he was. Meantime maybe he could learn more about his new friend. “Maddie seems very attuned to Noah.”
“Her son is her whole world,” Tanner agreed quietly. “Everything she does is for him, which is great but...”
“But?”
“But I wish she’d take more time to replenish her own well. Sophie and I keep hoping she’ll accept your grandmother’s offer of a partnership in her quilting store,” Tanner said quietly.
“I guess that would help Gran, but maybe Maddie can’t afford it or isn’t well versed enough in business,” Jesse suggested.
“She is on both scores.” Tanner smiled. “Maddie told us she purchased her ranch with part of a sizable life insurance policy she received after Liam’s death, so she can certainly afford to buy the business. But the best part is the way she feels about quilts. She loves anything to do with them. She seems to come alive when she’s working with fabric, as if the texture and pattern allow her to express feelings she usually keeps tucked inside.”
“So what’s the problem?” Jesse felt he was missing something. “Why hasn’t she bought Gran’s business already? I think Gran would sell.”
“I believe Maddie refuses to buy out Emma because she lacks confidence in herself. From what she’s said, I think she believes she isn’t capable, and that simply isn’t true. She’s a very capable woman. I saw that when she was buying and moving to the ranch.”
“Really?” Jesse was intrigued.
“Maddie had organized everything ahead of time. She prepared the house so the movers knew exactly where every box went. By the end of moving day, she had everything unpacked and in place, which I find astonishing.” He grimaced.
“Why?” What was this about? Jesse wondered.
“Because it was nothing like that when I helped Sophie and the kids move here after we were married. We still haven’t unpacked some of her bags and boxes.” His pained look said it all. “Maddie is detail-oriented, has foresight and considers everything from many angles.”
“So?” Jesse waited, curious to hear the rest.
“I think Maddie McGregor lacks confidence because she hasn’t ever had anyone to champion her, urge her to reach out of her comfort zone and support her efforts. In fact, judging by what I’ve garnered, I think she’s been put down and deprecated.”
Tanner didn’t say it, but Jesse had the distinct impression he was referring to Maddie’s former husband. The gourmet cook, he remembered, recalling Maddie’s downcast face when she’d said that.
His new boss changed the subject by moving on to discuss hours, wages, staff meetings and a myriad of other employment details that Jesse only half heard because his mind was busy trying to put together a puzzle called Maddie.
As if he’d conjured her, she drove up at the end of his interview, as he was walking to his truck—which, he noticed with disgust, had a flat tire. She climbed out of her car and hurried toward him, her green eyes dark and shadowed.
“Hi,” he said, a bubble of joy building inside his chest. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, but I need to talk to you,
