break a horse to saddle, he also had a knack with the kids on the ranch.
“Jake, can you and Ben go ahead and take these guys on down to Bea?” He didn’t have to spell it out. Beatrice Brewster, the no-nonsense director of the LSCL Boys Ranch, ran the show. She’d watch the kids until she got the all clear from house parents Edward and Eleanor, who had their hands full with Sam.
Jake gave him a thumbs-up and started organizing the boys for the march to the main ranch house. Without asking, Macy fell in with Jake and the boys. She volunteered in the ranch office, helping with accounting. She’d also become pretty adept at finding donations and writing up grants. She didn’t usually help with the kids. But at times like this, everyone pitched in and helped out.
“Gabriel, what can I do for you?” Tanner watched as the small troupe marched toward the big ranch house, and then he headed for his truck.
“Tanner, we need to have an emergency meeting of the League. Can you be here in about fifteen minutes? Bring Bea with you. And Katie will probably need to attend so she can take notes for the ranch.”
“I’ll be there.” He glanced at his watch. “What’s going on?”
“I’d rather make the announcement when you get here. Let’s just say that some prayers are answered a little quicker than others.”
Interesting. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
When he pulled up to the ranch, Bea was already on her way down the stairs. Tall and in her fifties, the former social worker for the state was all heart. She adjusted her glasses and smoothed her hair, turning to give a “hurry up” look to the person following her out the door.
Macy Swanson?
The two climbed in his truck, Macy opening the back door and getting in the backseat. Beatrice clicked her seat belt and settled her purse on her lap.
“Katie is staying to help Jake with the kids. I asked Macy to come with us to take notes. I’m going to want my own person there so that we have a record of our own.” Beatrice shot him a questioning look. “Do you know what is going on, Tanner Barstow?”
Like he was one of her kids and someone had TP’d the house.
“No, Bea, I don’t. I got the call the same as you.”
“Gabriel said it’s a good thing. But, Tanner, I’ll have you know, I’m not a fan of surprises. Even of the good variety.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He glanced in the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of Macy looking out the window, bottom lip caught between her teeth. He cleared his throat, and she shot him a look. “I’m sorry I put you on the spot back there. So, do you think you’d be interested in spending time reading to the kids? They enjoyed the story you told them.”
“I’m not sure,” she finally answered. “I mean, it would be good, wouldn’t it? The boys enjoyed it. Colby enjoyed it.”
He slowed to make his turn. “Think about it.”
The Everett Ranch, owned by Gabriel Everett, was a big spread located between the Silver Star and Haven. Tanner parked next to a half dozen assorted trucks and SUVs. He got out quickly so he could hurry to the other side and open the door for the ladies. His dad hadn’t taught him to be a gentleman, but Aunt May had. She’d told him someday he’d appreciate the manners she instilled in him. He’d be thankful.
He was, and he wished she was alive so he could tell her how much she’d meant to him and his siblings. But she’d passed about eight years ago, getting them mostly raised, all but Chloe, who had been not quite fifteen. May had at least seen Tanner’s business get off the ground. She’d known they would be okay without her.
Eight years later Haven Tractor and Supply was well-established, and Aunt May’s small ranch had quadrupled in size. He didn’t mind feeling proud of that accomplishment. May had sold off land to get him through college. He’d put the family spread, the Rocking B, all back together for her. It had taken him a few years, buying back the land as it came up for sale or as he convinced neighbors to sell it back to him.
He opened the door for Bea. She stepped out, not needing the hand he held out for her. He reached to open the door for Macy, as well.
“Thank you, Tanner.” Beatrice patted his arm, as if he wasn’t thirty-two and just twenty years her junior. With Bea they were all kids.
The ladies preceded him to the house. He didn’t mind. A few more minutes meant a little more time to think; maybe he might come up with some reason they were all being called to the Everett place for a meeting. But by the time they were shown to the library, where the meetings were held, he still didn’t have a clue.
A gavel pounded on the table. Tanner sat back and gave Gabriel his full attention, but then his gaze shifted to the right of the league president. The man sitting in the seat of honor was Harold Haverman, attorney and member of the Lone Star Cowboy League, of which Tanner was vice president. It seemed to him that if there was something going on, Tanner should have been told ahead of time.
Tall, with a black Stetson covering his gray hair and metal-framed glasses on the end of his nose, Harold had presence. And he had a document in his hands that looked far too official.
“Meeting to order.” Gabriel glanced around the group. He cited the date, the time, the emergency status of a meeting of the Waco district Lone Star Cowboy League chapter.
The formalities were taken care of with some seconds, a vote, and then on to new business.
“I would like to recognize our guest, Harold Haverman.”
Harold stood, pushed the silver-framed glasses back in place and shifted the papers he still held. He gave them all a look, serious as could be, no hints as to what this was all about.
“I’d like to thank you all for coming today. I know this is unexpected.” He peered at them over the top of those glasses. “As you all know, we lost a respected member of our community. Cyrus Culpepper passed last week. I know several of you attended his funeral. Today I have the honor of sharing with you his last will and testament.”
“What does this have to do with me?” Bea started to stand, but Gabriel shook his head. “I have children at home.”
“Bea, this won’t take a minute.” Harold cleared his throat and shook out the papers. “If you’ll just give me five minutes to read this. And then we can take care of the details.”
He started to read. Silence held as the members looked from one to the other, clearly astonished. Tanner glanced across the table and made quick eye contact with Macy Swanson and got caught in those green eyes of hers. She looked wary and like she was pretty sure she shouldn’t be involved. She also looked like someone still hurting. The grief for her brother had turned to pain for a little boy still missing his parents.
Listening as Haverman read the final will of one Cyrus Culpepper, curmudgeon and stirrer of the pot, Tanner thought that maybe they’d all just been tossed in the middle of a big old mess.
I, Cyrus B. Culpepper, am writing this on my deathbed with, per my doc of over forty years, only days or weeks to go. I may be about to meet my maker, but I am of sound mind and hereby bequeath the bulk of my estate to the Boys Ranch, as I was once a resident myself back when the ranch first started
