“I’ll look for Theodore Linley,” Tanner offered into the silent room.
Gabriel gave a curt nod. “I appreciate that.”
“I’ll look for Avery Culpepper,” Macy offered.
Next to her, Beatrice tapped her fingers on the table and hmm’ed. “Well, I have the most at stake. Or should I say, my kids do. I’ll look for Samuel Teller and Morton Mason. It seems as if I might have a few emails or letters from former members. It might be easier than we think.”
Flint, sitting closest to Gabriel, reached for the paper. “I guess I’ll look for Mr. Grayson. That name is common, but I have a friend with the same last name.”
Beatrice smiled big. “So, the good Lord willing...”
“And the creek don’t rise,” someone muttered from the other end of the table.
Bea shot the offending party a look. “I’ve been praying for a bigger place or for money to build more cabins. The church has been praying. God has opened this door, and I, for one, intend on going through it.”
“Amen,” Gabriel murmured. “When does the Triple C become the property of the boys ranch and the LSCL?”
Mr. Haverman looked at his notes. “Possession begins one month from the reading of the will. Although you understand if the stipulations of the will aren’t met, you’ll have to return the property and move the boys back to the Silver Star. And Miss Avery Culpepper will be allowed to move to her property in March. And, please, don’t question me, because Cyrus had his reasons.”
Gabriel closed his eyes and ran a hand over them. Finally he looked out over the group that had assembled. “And with that, we will adjourn the meeting. If any of you want to stay and plan how to proceed, feel free to use this room. I’m afraid I have another appointment.”
With that, he picked up his briefcase and left.
Macy made eye contact with Bea. The other woman just shrugged and adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses but then turned her attention to Tanner.
“Well, Tanner?” Bea prodded.
The room had cleared, leaving only the four of them. Macy, Tanner, Flint and Bea. Tanner got up and headed for the coffeepot and Styrofoam cups.
“Coffee?” he offered.
He started pouring cups before anyone could answer.
“This Culpepper ranch is large?” Macy asked as she took the offered cup. She didn’t mean to notice Tanner’s hands, long-fingered, tanned, calloused, but when their fingers touched, she couldn’t help it.
Flint laughed at the question, but his smile was genuinely friendly. “The Triple C is a big spread. The house has three wings. There are plenty of buildings. And there’s room to grow.”
Beatrice got up to make copies of the list of names. “And that property is going to be our new ranch. I’m just not willing to give up on this. Every day I get a call from the state. There aren’t enough foster homes or residential facilities. Macy put Colby on the list last winter, and it took us several months to get him a bed. It breaks my heart each time we have to turn away a child in need of a home, or counseling.”
Tanner stopped behind Beatrice and placed a hand on her shoulder. “We won’t let you down, Bea.”
He took one of the papers she’d copied and returned to his seat. Macy pulled out her phone and typed the name Avery Culpepper into the search engine. A slew of entries appeared. She held the phone up for the others to see.
“It isn’t going to be easy, but it won’t be that difficult. There are dozens of hits for the name Avery Culpepper. I’m sure you’ll have the same experience with your names. And then it’s a matter of tracking down the correct person.”
“I hope it’s that easy,” Flint grumbled.
“Me, too.” Bea stood. “I’m not sure what else we can do here today. I have a dozen boys waiting to be fed, and I guess some kind of chaos Tanner created before we left.”
Tanner grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I do, create chaos. But the kid whisperer, Macy, calmed them all down with a story.”
Kid whisperer. She wished that were true. If it were true, she wouldn’t be a failure with her own nephew. As they stood to go, Tanner stepped in close.
“He’ll survive this.” He said it with conviction.
“I’m sorry?” She looked up, unsure what he meant.
“Colby,” he continued. “I know you worry about him, but give it time. He’ll come around.”
“I hope you’re right.” She prayed he was right. Because she didn’t want to lose her nephew. For Colby she would stay in Haven. She would manage to be the person he needed her to be in this small town with people who commented, gave advice and offered help.
What other choice did she have? She’d given up her life and her career in Dallas. She’d given up the fiancé who didn’t support her decisions.
This was her new life.
As they left together, Tanner touched her back, a gesture that comforted. She was sure that was what he meant by the fleeting contact. But it did more than comfort her; it made her aware of his presence.
In all the months she’d been here, he’d struck her as a man who didn’t get involved. He was a successful rancher and business owner. He sometimes showed up at the boys ranch. He rarely took time to socialize.
Today she was in a vulnerable place, worrying about Colby and missing her brother. Tomorrow she would be back to normal and Tanner’s touch, his kind words, would make sense.
* * *
Tanner strode through the doors of the Haven Tractor and Supply. His sister, Chloe, looked up from the counter and smiled. He felt immediately on edge because she was wearing that look, the one that spelled trouble for him. She wanted something. And he’d probably give in and get it for her. If he could.
“Been busy?” he asked as he walked behind the counter. He saw that she’d been doodling on a piece of paper. Pictures of dresses. The wedding variety of dress. He cringed. She was twenty-four and old enough, but he didn’t think she was ready. As an older brother he doubted he’d ever be ready to see her walked down the aisle, by either himself or their brother, Major Travis Barstow.
“Not real busy. Larry has a customer on the lot, looking at a tractor. Or a stock trailer. I’m not sure which.” She tapped the pencil on the counter and sneaked a look at him.
He pretended not to notice, but he almost couldn’t hide a smile. She was pretty, his sister. Dark hair in a ponytail, she was all country with beat-up boots, faded jeans. She made it all feminine with a lacy top she’d probably spent a day’s wages on.
“Are you selling off steers this weekend?” She hopped up on a stool and slid the doodles under the cash register. Like he hadn’t noticed.
“Are you buying wedding dresses?”
