She’d known Jack and his wife for years. They were the first people she’d thought of when she decided to branch out to the Austin area.
“What’s happened?” she asked, struggling not to show her disappointment. “Are you sick? Is Betsy?”
“Nope. Me and the wife are fine. Just found out that all the kids and grandkids are coming to town to surprise Betsy for her seventieth birthday. No idea why they didn’t tell me before now, ’cept they figured I’d never keep the secret.”
“I understand,” she said, crushed, but already trying to figure out a plan B.
“Don’t you go frettin’ about it, though,” Jack consoled. “I wouldn’t leave you stranded in a ditch without a mule to haul you out. I gave a call to Aidan Bastrop. He took over from there.”
“Took over, how?” Aidan was a state representative and a friend, but this time she didn’t see how he’d be able to intervene. He didn’t own a ranch, and much of the training required that.
“Aidan worked something out with a neighbor of mine. You’ll have bigger and better facilities than what you’d have had here.”
The knots in her stomach relaxed. She should have known Jack wasn’t the type to blow a commitment lightly. The relief lasted for the two seconds it took for him to mutter the name of his replacement.
The last person on earth she would have asked for a favor.
Jacob Edward Dalton worried the knot in his red-striped tie for about ten seconds before jerking it off and tossing it to a nearby chair. Texas State Capitol building or not, he was going casual. Mid-June and the humidity was already battling the temperature for record highs for this time of year.
He could kick himself for letting Aidan Bastrop talk him into volunteering the Silver Spur for some project he’d never even heard of before now. Nothing like a gaggle of women descending on a ranch to guarantee his wranglers would do more gawking than work.
Not that Jake was against helping out. He gave generously to several causes important to him. But he had a ranch to run and a teenage daughter to corral, neither of which was going particularly well at the moment.
His foreman had been thrown last week when a rattlesnake spooked his horse. Granger had suffered a broken leg and bruised ribs. The man would be limited in what he could do for the next couple of weeks, though Granger would keep abreast of everything going on around the Silver Spur.
As for his daughter, Lizette, he was considering shipping her off to the Arctic until she cooled down. Her latest state of rebellion had been fueled by his forbidding her to date Calvin Owens.
Calvin was the local bad boy, two years older than Lizzie, and already had a juvenile record for vandalizing the local high school and shoplifting. And that was just what they knew he was guilty of.
Now Lizzie was constantly pushing the house rules and the limits of decency in her wardrobe choices. If her denim cutoffs got any shorter, she might as well skip them altogether. She considered curfews irrelevant and her newly acquired driver’s license a proclamation of freedom.
She did a lot better when her grandmother was in the house. But Jake’s mother, Mary, was on a European river cruise with a few of the other widows from their church. She was almost eighty, yet some days Jake swore she had more energy than he did. She definitely had more skill in dealing with Lizzie.
Jake headed down the hallway and stopped at the door to Lizzie’s bedroom. He tapped softly and lingered a minute, though he didn’t expect a response. She hadn’t been up before noon once since school let out for the summer.
He took the wide staircase to the first floor and then followed the smell of fresh brew to the kitchen. “Good morning, Edna,” he greeted his housekeeper as he poured himself a mug of coffee. “You’re here early today.”
“Not a lot of use in hanging around my place by myself when I can be up here drinking your coffee and soaking up your air-conditioning.”
“Can’t blame you for that.” And it wasn’t as if she had far to come. Jake had built Edna a cabin on his spread after her husband died almost three years ago. The tall big-boned woman had been with him ever since he’d turned his back on a promising medical career and taken over the ranching business right after...
Nope. He was not going there this morning.
Edna handed him a cup of coffee. “You don’t look like you’re planning to do a lot of ranching today.”
“No, but I should be. Instead I’m off to Austin and the capitol building for some meeting that I don’t have time for.”
“Seems like all those politicians do is meet. What are they yakking about this time?”
“Some project that Aidan Bastrop enlisted my help with.”
“I thought you had more on your plate than you can handle with Granger hurt.”
“Yep, but this is an emergency of sorts.”
Edna opened the refrigerator and started pulling out breakfast items while he finished his coffee. “What is it you’ve volunteered for? Giving a talk about ranching? Sponsoring an event? Making a donation?”
“I’m donating, all right. Unfortunately it’s not just money. It’s the ranch.”
She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind—which he probably had, at least temporarily. “Donated the ranch? What in blue blazes are you talking about?”
“Actually, it’s only the use of the ranch, our horses, corrals and some meeting space. And only for five days, starting Wednesday.”
“Who borrows a ranch?”
“A group of about thirty women. But don’t start having conniptions. You won’t have to do a thing.”
“Humph. A bunch of strange women taking over the place and no extra work. That’ll never happen.”
“I’ll see that it does,” he promised, though he wasn’t fully convinced of that himself. “The house is not included in the loan.”
“What are all these women training for, some kind of trail ride?”
“Nope. It’s called the Saddle-Up program, or something like that.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Nor had I, but then it involves teenage girls, so it’s outside my realm of expertise. I have enough trouble managing Lizzy.”
“Exactly what do they do with these teenagers?”
“According to Aidan’s persuasive argument, they give inner-city girls from high-poverty areas one month on a real working ranch over the summer. They teach them to ride, work as a team, take responsibility—that sort of thing.”
Edna’s hands flew to her ample hips. “Well, why didn’t you just say that in the first place? Those kids need a summer on a ranch. When does this training start?”
“Officially—Wednesday.”
“This Wednesday? As in two days away?”
“Yes, but like I said. You don’t have to do a thing.” As if there was a chance Edna wouldn’t be in the middle of things.
“You can’t ignore guests,” Edna said. “It’s not the Texas way.”
“Maybe not, but I plan to give it my best shot.” Starting today. “A few of the women are coming out to tour the ranch this afternoon, just to get their bearings before the official training begins. If they show up at the house before