Page 4 of Take a Chance (Blue Creek Ranch #1)

Good. Too many people saw the land as something to take from and didn’t prioritize animals as living creatures.

Saw them as lesser beings. I could usually spot that type of folk immediately, and I didn’t think Mal fell into that category.

Time would tell if he was speaking the truth, but I had a good feeling.

“The position is for a general hand. You’d be mucking stalls, feeding, fixing fences, moving our herd, doing turn out, chasing horses…it’s not glamorous.”

Now I was rewarded with a chuckle and it lit up his whole face. Suddenly he didn’t look so haggard and a hell of a lot more handsome.

“Yes, sir. I expected as much.” Some of the humor died from his eyes. “If I’m honest, I’ve been looking for work for a little while. I love livestock, I love the land, and I just want to be doing an honest day’s work for a fair wage.”

My estimation of the man rose, because he sounded sincere.

Not that I had formed much of an opinion yet.

I only knew that he seemed kind, cared about his kid, and seemed to know what he was talking about.

If he really wanted to work, he could be taught.

And if he already knew, then we were headed in the right direction.

Of course, there was also whatever Mom had seen in him from their email exchange. Mom had a knack for knowing when people were in need. She said she learned it from Gigi Fern, but I knew she’d always had a big heart.

We hadn’t planned on hiring anyone new until the fall, but maybe I could make an exception.

I hid in the office for a while after Mal and his kid left.

There was something tugging at my brain and I couldn’t figure out what.

Since Mom was clearly avoiding me—usually she would have burst into the office the moment she saw our guests off, wanting to know how it had gone—I went in search of her.

I found her in the kitchen, which wasn’t a surprise.

She loved to cook, even if she no longer had her whole brood under one roof.

I smelled onions and peppers, but Mom was standing at the deep fryer she’d had built-in next to the stove. With so many mouths to feed, industrial grade appliances were a must. The combination had me guessing she was making cheese steaks, one of my favorite meals. She was trying to butter me up.

It would probably work.

I waited until she was done at the fryer, not wanting to startle her. She probably already knew I was there. She always did. When she turned, she gave me a very bright, slightly forced smile.

“So? How’d it go?”

“Care to explain yourself?” I asked instead of answering her question.

She made her eyes wide and pointed at her own chest. “Me?”

I snorted a laugh and sat down at the island. Without asking, Mom poured me a glass of lemonade. I thanked her and took a drink before I narrowed my gaze playfully. “Yes, you.”

“I didn’t tell you because you would have tried to talk me out of it. Your father knew I was doing it.”

I shook my head and tried to hide the smile tugging at my lips with another drink. “That’s not the defense you think it is. Dad would hide the bodies for you. Of course he knows. Just tell me.”

Mom dropped the pretense. “It took guts to cold contact us. With no job listing. His resume is excellent. I just had a feeling we needed to see him.”

“A Gigi Fern kind of feeling?” I teased.

“That woman was an angel on earth. When I was fifteen and pregnant, the world was against me and your dad. They said we’d never make it. They said we should give it up. Even our families—”

“I know.” I cut her off gently, not wanting her to have to relive it.

We all knew the story. And the part about Fern, who took them in and helped with Bodhi after he was born, supported my parents when they got married at eighteen and had me, staked them the downpayment on this property, never laughed as they kept popping out children…

that part was all good. But the way both biological families shunned and ridiculed their children for making a mistake and conceiving still hurt her to this day.

Even after all these years, we were still no contact with them.

“Gigi Fern was indeed an angel. I didn’t mean it like that. ”

Mom took a breath. “Right. So maybe yes. Maybe it is that kind of feeling. It moves our timeline up some but I really think Mal and Payton need us.”

“Who?” I squinted. “I thought the kid’s name is Tony.”

“It’s a nickname, dear.” She shot me a look, then turned to stir the sauteing vegetables.

When she was done, she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and crossed the room to lean on the island.

“You know, we have that vacant cabin between yours and Russ’s.

It’s only one bedroom and it needs a little work, but nothing we can’t handle.

I’m thinking we should offer it to Mal as part of his employment package. ”

“Wait a minute.”

My mother didn’t wait. “Tony’s a talker.

Well, sort of. Once he was coloring and eating cookies, he told me how they used to live on a farm but then his Nana moved to live with her sister and it was just him and his dad in their tiny apartment.

Tony likes being indoors, which, whew can you imagine?

A rancher’s kid who doesn’t like outside?

But it could be the hand up he needs. When he called and said his babysitter fell through, my heart nearly broke. I get the feeling that he—”

“Mother, you’re rambling.” I reached out and touched her hand. She flipped hers over and hung on. “I’m not saying no. I just gotta think about it.”

“You don’t think he’d be good at the job?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not that. He seems incredibly competent. It’s that we hadn’t budgeted for it yet, and it might be okay if Judi Dench’s foal sells for as much as I think it will. But if we’re factoring in room, that could lower the salary—”

“Crew! No, you pay that man everything he’s supposed to get. The room is on us.”

I closed my eyes and just breathed for a moment.

It was like that then. And I got it. Our parents had hammered into our very marrow the desire to help those that needed it.

Mom and Dad had once been in a place where they were seriously struggling, and if it hadn’t been for Gigi Fern, they wouldn’t have all that they had now.

Ten thriving kids and an expansive operation that catered to every horse need imaginable.

Plus an events space, which was my sister Fern’s pride and joy.

It was time to pay it forward.

“I’ll call and make the offer tomorrow.”