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“I was just sure a man thoughtful enough to join the Handyman Ministry would understand how much a ranch trip could mean to at-risk town kids,” Rainy said.
So it was a cheap shot. Rainy had no remorse. She was accustomed to pushing when it came to getting things for foster children.
Nate leaned back in his chair, staring at her with exasperation. “You don’t give up, do you?”
A tiny smile tickled Rainy’s lips. “Never. Not when it comes to my kids.”
The cowboy across from her raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, they can come to my ranch.”
He was ready to cut and run like a wild horse. Better grab the opportunity while it was knocking.
MILLS & BOON
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LINDA GOODNIGHT
Winner of the 2007 RITA® Award for excellence in inspirational fiction, Linda Goodnight has also won the Booksellers’ Best, ACFW Book of the Year, and a Reviewers’ Choice Award from Romantic Times BOOKreviews. Linda has appeared on the Christian bestseller list and her romance novels have been translated into more than a dozen languages. Active in orphan ministry, this former nurse and teacher enjoys writing fiction that carries a message of hope and light in a sometimes dark world. She and husband Gene live in Oklahoma. Readers can write to her at [email protected], or c/o Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279.
Home to Crossroads Ranch
Linda Goodnight
For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God; not of works, lest any man should boast.
—Ephesians 2:8–9
In memory of my brother-in-law, Bill,
who loved kids better than anyone and who always
carried a pocketful of quarters or Tootsie Rolls to
“magically” pull from behind their ears. The world
is a sadder place without your booming laugh, your
boundless love and generosity, and your pure joy
in living for Christ. As you would always say in
parting, until we meet again, “Be cheerful.”
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
Nate Del Rio heard screams the minute he stepped out of his Super Crew Cab and started up the flower-lined sidewalk leading to Rainy Jernagen’s house. He double-checked the address scribbled on the back of a bill for horse feed. Sure enough, this was the place.
Adjusting his Stetson against a gust of March wind, he rang the doorbell expecting the noise to subside. It didn’t.
Somewhere inside the modest, tidy-looking brick house at least two kids were screaming their heads off in what sounded to his experienced ears like fits of temper. A television blasted out Saturday-morning cartoons.
He punched the doorbell again. Instead of the expected ding-dong, a raucous alternative Christian rock band added a few more decibels to the noise level.
Nate shifted the toolbox to his opposite hand and considered running for his life while he had the chance.
Too late. The bright red door whipped open. Nate’s mouth fell open with it.
When the men’s ministry coordinator from Bible Fellowship had called him, he’d somehow gotten the impression that he was coming to help a little old schoolteacher. In his mind, that meant the kind who only drove to school and church and had a big, fat cat.
Not so. The woman standing before him with taffy-blond hair sprouting out from a disheveled ponytail couldn’t possibly be any older than his thirty-one years. A big blotch of something purple stained the front of her white sweatshirt, and she was barefoot. Plus, she had a crying baby on each hip and a little red-haired girl hanging on one leg, bawling like a sick calf. And there wasn’t a cat in sight.
What had he gotten himself into?
“May I help you?” she asked over the racket. Her blue-gray eyes were a little too unfocused and bewildered for his comfort.
Raising his voice, he asked, “Are you Ms. Jernagen?”
“Yes,” she said cautiously. “I’m Rainy Jernagen. And you are…?”
“Nate Del Rio.”
She blinked, uncomprehending, all the while jiggling both babies up and down. One grabbed a hunk of her hair. She flinched, her head angling to one side, as she said, still cautiously, “Okaaay.”
Nate reached out and untwined the baby’s sticky fingers.
A relieved
