Second Chance Ranch (26 page)

The tractor jolted to a stop. Zac blinked and returned his attention to the hay field he was baling and the tractor.

And the fence he’d just run into. The metal post angled away from the left side of the engine, the top wires stretched so tightly, the two metal posts on either side angled in, too. Zac slapped steering wheel as he slammed the transmission into park and cut the engine. He scrubbed his hand down his face and stared at the broken fence.

Someday, Jen would thank him for taking this whole headache off her hands.

* * *

The manila folder dampened in her palm as she grabbed it off the bench seat and slid out of the truck. Why Mr. Gebhardt had called wanting her final numbers for the camp expenses, she couldn’t fathom. But she had them, and they looked good. She worked her fingers back and forth along the worn paper edge as she ran through the final tally in her mind.

Four great summer and one early fall sessions. All completely booked. Campers enrolled for next year. No matter how she looked at it, the camp looked great on paper. Too bad there was nothing that tied that success to the location of the Trails’ End Ranch. She rounded the truck and followed the sidewalk to the bank. She should be happy the camp stood on its own merit with little of its success due to the terrain or buildings of the ranch.

Or the cowboy who owned it.

“Oh dear Lord, help me be strong,” she whispered under her breath as she pushed the glass door and walked into the lobby area. Hawk Ridge Bank and Trust worked with all the farmers, ranchers and family in the area. Many of the elders of the town sat on the board. As a girl, she’d come to the bank with her mother to do whatever adults did at that time. Frannie Pollard had been the head teller and always slid a lollipop to her through the decorative iron rails. The smell of lemon polish on the old time teller counters evoked myriad memories, both good and bad.

“Good morning, Jennifer,” Frannie greeted with a wide smile as Jen approached her desk. Frannie had gone from head teller to executive assistant and appeared to wear the position well. “Isn’t it just beautiful for the end of September?”

“Glad the snow isn’t flying yet. I still have a lot of things to clean up.” Like the recreation hall, the barn, and move out of the house. Sadness edged over her. She had to move out of the house she’d cleaned and fixed and made her own. A house full of memories of friendship, laughter and love.

Just as quickly as the thoughts darkened around her, she shook them off. It was just a house. She’d find someplace else to call home. Her memories of Arthur’s encouragement lived on in her heart along with the knowledge God had better things in mind for her.
Chin up, kiddo. It’s in God’s hands.
“And the aspens are gorgeous, don’t you think?”

“Oh my, yes. With color like this, Hawk Ridge is sure to get folks coming up for some great pictures.” She shuffled a couple of papers across her desk. “Maybe you can think about offering your camp facilities for camp dinners and hay rides. You’ve got the kitchen all set up, might as well use it.”

A bit insensitive, even for Frannie. She didn’t have the ranch, or the barn, or the kitchen. Again, she had to pull herself together. In a few minutes, the whole fiasco would be over. “Something to think about. Is Mr. Gebhardt available?”

“Oh, of course.” Frannie stood and indicated Jen follow. “He said you’d be in.”

The noise from the lobby faded as Jen stepped into the office. A pair of arm chairs sat in front of his honey oak desk, the seating arranged at angles for easy access. A lateral file of the same oak stretched behind a black leather chair, the same black leather matching the arm chairs. A desk pad, phone, and wooden letter holder occupied the top. A file folder sat on the desk pad, the only indication Mr. Gebhardt actually worked in the space. How did anyone keep an office that neat?

“Jennifer, come in,” he greeted from behind his desk and indicated she take a seat. “Did you bring the final figures for the camp expenditures?”

She angled into one of the chairs and handed him the folder.

Opening her file, he thumbed through the papers, and then opened the other file and shuffled through additional pages. As he worked through the figures, Jennifer studied the brass mantel clock on the top shelf of the bookcase. It ticked a steady rhythm. Odd to hear a clock tick anymore. Mr. Gebhardt had probably searched forever for one just to rev up the drama of his loan procedures.

“Jennifer, you’ve developed an impressive business plan. Well thought out. Ambitious enough to demonstrate an understanding of agriculture. If you weren’t a fine nurse already, I’d say you’d make a great farmer.”

She smiled to be polite. She never would have accomplished it without Zac’s help. His suggestions and foresight had put her over the top. The proposal was Zac’s, not hers. “I appreciate your confidence. I guess the practice of putting together the business plan will help in whatever property I end up qualifying for.”

“Hmm,” he agreed. He pulled a page she recognized from her original application. “You included a schedule of equipment upgrades. Very good.”

Zac again. “Thank you.”

He closed the folder and shuffled it to the bottom of his pile. He tugged out a cover sheet she recognized as hospital stationary.

Her letter of reference for sponsorship.

He tilted his face up and down as he read the page, as if trying to find the sweet spot for distance in his bifocals. “The hospital recommends you highly for the Nurse Administrator position of the camp. They feel even though you’re only a couple years into the program, you’re well suited to this position.”

Why did that matter to the bank? Still, she practically had to sit on her hands to keep from grabbing the letter to read for herself. The Foundation was happy with her work. Now all she needed was a facility. “I’m happy to hear they’ll back my work.”

“Oh yes, and the accelerated program you’ve developed and tested has sparked interest. They’ll be watching you closely. Good for you.”

She didn’t understand. She had nothing to watch. Only speculation, desires and dreams. This meeting had nothing to do with her present. And quite honestly, she had no idea where her future was going. So why drag out the pain?

She grabbed her purse, needing to get out before her tears embarrassed them both. “Thank you, Mr. Gebhardt. I appreciate all the help and time you’ve invested in me.” She rose from her chair and extended her hand.

The banker looked at her over his glasses. “Sit down, Jennifer. You have some papers to sign.”

More papers. For a failed attempt to capture her dream. The embarrassment was practically killing her. “I really do have to leave. I have a staff meeting--”

“Not before we finalize your loan.” He placed a stack of papers in front of her and handed her a sleek, ball point pen. “I need you to sign all the highlighted areas.”

A loan? For what? “I haven’t researched any other sites, Mr. Gebhardt. I had to finish my year-end reports for the Foundation on the Trails’ End.” She nodded toward the file he anchored beneath his elbow. “I know you’ve already pre-qualified my application amount, but I haven’t had time to look for other ranches.”

He sat back in his seat and removed his glasses staring at her from beneath his frown. “You’ve changed your mind? This is an unexpected turn.”

She glanced over the cover page recognizing her accepted dollar amount for the purchase of the Trails’ End Ranch. Hadn’t Zac told Mr. Gebhardt the Eklunds never owned the property? Tears stung her eyes at the additional blow to her ego. “The Trails’ End isn’t for sale. I’m surprised the Davidsons didn’t tell you.”

“They told me. And
it is
for sale. To you.” He nodded at the paperwork. “Are you signing?”

“The Davidsons are selling it to me?” Conversations spun through her head. Grace’s kind words; Arthur’s echoed sentiments. “Zac won’t let this happen.”

He nudged her hand aside and flipped the first page over. “Isaac Davidson signed the papers this morning.”

Zac’s signature scrawled across the line. Nothing made sense. Jen fought to breathe around the lump in her throat as she sifted through the loan papers, verifying Zac’s signature in all the proper places. She shook her head and pushed her chair back. “I…I’ve got to think. Excuse me.”

Mr. Gebhardt stood. “Jennifer, do you want this property?”

“I don’t know.” Possibilities skipped through her mind like rice in a skillet. Why didn’t this matter just close? She’d prayed and found peace with her decision. Her heart pounded in her chest and her hand began to tremble. She’d didn’t have any tears left to shed; she didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. “I’ll be back.”

She escaped the spacious office and ran past Frannie’s desk, the secretary’s voice floating confused congratulations behind her. Patrons lined up at the teller windows stared as she pushed open the massive glass front doors and stepped into the bright, crisp fall air. Trapped in a nightmare she couldn’t seem to wake up from, she leaned back against the brick facade of the bank, squeezed her eyes and let the tears flow. Not again. She never cried. Since Zac Davidson crashed into her life again, all she seemed to do was cry.

A moment later, a familiar palm cupped her elbow. She eeked open an eye and saw Zac mere inches away. She closed her eyes again, sucked a breath and cried harder.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Zac rubbed her elbow, unsure how to proceed. Not quite the tears of happiness he was expecting. His hand slid to her waist and tried to draw her close. “Jen. What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Resisting his attempt at comfort, she dug around in her jacket and jeans while tears streamed down her face. Zac pulled a fast food napkin out of his pocket and handed it to her. She clutched the napkin in her fist and rubbed it across her eyes before blowing her nose. Lifting red rimmed eyes, she sniffed even as another tear squeezed out. “I’m finally okay with this whole thing. I’ve given it to God and everything will work out. Why are you dragging me into this again?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but let’s go to the park and discuss it.” Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he guided her across the street to the same clump of trees they’d sat at when she first found out he had a back-up contract on the ranch. Ironically appropriate.

Wiping her face, she twisted out of his embrace and faced him her hands gripping his biceps. “Zac, listen to me. You’ve won. You’ve gotten everything you wanted…and deserve.”

With a quick squeeze, she dropped her hands and drew away. Hanging her head, she began to pace. “I didn’t understand why the Trails’ End was yanked out from under me, so God and I wrestled it out…you know, Jacob and the Angel style. I realized I wanted the Trails’ End so badly, I never asked the Lord if that’s what
He
wanted for me. All I saw was the camp and the kids. I wallowed in memories...alone.” She stopped and sniffed, pushing her thick hair out of her face. “You know what I discovered? He wants the best for me. I have to follow where He leads.”

“Of course you do.” Nothing she said made sense. “That’s all I want, too.”

She stood beneath the aspen tree, its golden leaves brushed the top of her head making it look like even the tree wanted to offer comfort. “I’ve been alone ever since my mother died. I’ve tried to do it all and I just can’t anymore.” Fresh tears pooled in her eyes as she rubbed her nose and sniffed.

“No one ever asked you to be so strong.” The magnitude of her revelation crumbled his heart. For years he’d imagined Jen as an impregnable fortress, a force to deal with. He’d ask the questions, she had the answers; he had the problems, she offered the solutions. Jennifer O’Reilly had life all figured out. Only, he had it all wrong, didn’t he? She hadn’t known any more about life than he did; she just made everyone think she did. Hoping maybe she needed him made him love her more. He reached out and smoothed wisps of hair from her cheek. “I want to help you.”

She turned, refusing to look at him. The excited jabber of kids playing across the park floated around them. A breeze rustled the trees making a couple of leaves float to the ground. Zac inhaled the fading scent of sun-warmed pines soon to freeze when the snow began to fall. The worst winter he could remember didn’t compare to the vast despair he saw on her face. “Jen—”

“I give up, Zac. I gave all my hopes and dreams to God and I know everything will be okay. I let go…of everything.” She drew in an unsteady breath. “I’m examining my options.”

A knot formed in his stomach. Was he too late? Had she already written him off? “What about me?”

Dipping her chin, her gaze followed the fallen leaves scattered about their feet. “You were the hardest to turn loose.” Her voice so low he almost missed the words. “But I had to or I’d go crazy.”

The knot in his gut began to unravel. This was his last chance to make up for all the hurt he’d caused her. He just hoped it was enough. “Jen, I know how much the Trails’ End means to you. You’ve shared more history there with Eklund than I ever could have in my wildest imagination of GG Jeb.” Her shoulders stiffened and he knew time was running out. “It’s your ranch. The home of your camp. Just the way you have it.”

He watched her chin quiver and the thought of more tears scared him to death. He stepped toward her and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to his chest.