They’d had this conversation at least once a week since Pop moved in with him three years ago. Grandma’s passing had left the older man at a loss, and Nate needed help on the ranch. They’d blended their lives amicably—two old bachelors set in their ways, raising cows.
“Janine called a bit ago. I wrote the number on the pad.”
“What now?” His sister was like a leech, sucking the blood out of him, always needy. He was the go-to man in the family, the only functional member of a dysfunctional mess. At least, he considered himself functional. He had a steady job and a permanent home, which was more than he could say for Janine and Blake most of the time.
He reached for the phone number, but Pop’s voice stopped him. “Sit down and drink your coffee first. You don’t have to jump every time she hollers.”
Nate dialed anyway. Pop didn’t understand. No one did.
Every time one of his siblings called, he got this sick pull of dread and fear in the pit of his stomach. What if…
“Janine? What’s wrong?” There was always something wrong. She didn’t call otherwise. “I thought you and Sal worked everything out yesterday.”
“We did, Nate. I promise. Sal’s being good as gold.”
Nate grimaced. Sal was a beer-guzzling lout who came and went at will, leaving Janine and their baby to fend for themselves.
“So what’s up?”
“Well, you see.” She paused and he heard a shaky influx of breath. “Now don’t get mad, Nate.”
Nate braced one hand against the kitchen cabinet and stared out the window over the sink. Fat black calves grazed on two hundred acres of quickly greening Bermuda grass. His cows, his grass, his hard work, soon to be bigger and better if all went well.
“Just tell me what you want, Janine.”
The whining commenced. “See? You’re already getting mad. I can’t help that I’m the unluckiest person in the world. You just don’t understand what it’s like to be in my shoes. You’ve got it made out there on your ranch. You’ve always had it made.”
Nate didn’t remind her of what they both knew. He’d started this ranch on a loan and a prayer, working sixteen-hour days for a long time. Since then, he’d leased an adjacent eight hundred acres with an option to buy. If he could save enough money before the lease ran out, the land would be his and he’d finally feel solvent as a rancher. But that was a big if, and Janine’s constant requests for money didn’t help him save any extra.
“My car broke down, and Bailey’s out of diapers and milk.”
Trying to hold his temper, Nate stalked to the table for his now-cooled coffee, grimacing as he drained the cup.
“Nate?” His name trembled from her lips.
“I gave you money yesterday.” The silence told him everything. He flashed a glance at Pop but got no help from that corner. “Sal bought booze with it, didn’t he?”
“Don’t get mad. We paid the rent like you said, but everyone deserves to have fun sometimes. We went out for a little while to celebrate getting back together. You aren’t married. You don’t have kids. You can’t possibly understand how hard it is.” His sister’s whine grew persuasive. “Anyway, Sal promised to look for a job tomorrow. They’re hiring over at Wilson’s Manufacturing.”
Right. If Sal sobered up. Nate ground his back teeth together. “How much do you need?”
Pop made a rude noise and shook his head. Nate turned back toward the window. How he dealt with his sister’s problems was his business, whether his grandfather approved or not. Times like this he wished for a cordless phone and a little privacy.
“Not much,” Janine was saying. “A few hundred until Sal gets his first check.”
Considering Sal was not likely to get a job, much less a check, any funds Nate dumped in Janine’s pocket were a gift. Extortion, really. She knew he worried about her.
“I’ll put a check in the mail in the morning.”
Pop slapped his Bible shut. Nate didn’t bother to look at the older man, knowing he’d see a glower of disapproval.
“Nate, I need money today. Bailey’s whimpering right now because she’s wet and I don’t have any diapers. She’ll be bawling for a bottle soon. And tomorrow I need to take my car in to have it looked at. That takes money. I’ll pay you back, I promise. Just bring it here to the apartment this afternoon. Okay? This is the last time, the very last time I’ll ask. Okay? For me. Please. I promise.”
If he had a nickel for every time she’d made those promises, he’d be a rich man. “Where’s Sal?”
“Sleeping.”
Nate’s mouth twisted. Sleeping it off, more likely.
“You don’t want me to walk to the store, do you?”
The question sliced through him like a machete.
Janine knew her brother’s every weakness, including his guilt, and Nate resented the thunder out of her manipulation. He also knew he was about to drive fifty miles to once more rescue his sister.
No wonder he never wanted to be a father. He felt as if he’d been one most of his life.
A new thought edged to the front of his mind. He didn’t really want Rainy Jernagen’s passel of kids hanging around Crossroads Ranch, getting into things, taking chances. Even though he’d agreed to let her bring them out after church, he now had a great excuse to renege without looking like a jerk.
For once, he was almost glad his sister had called.
Rainy exited the sanctuary of Bible Fellowship, gazing around in hopes of spotting Nate Del Rio. After Katie’s timely scream yesterday, the police officer had rushed into her room to find the little redhead sitting up on her knees on the bed, retching all over the bedspread. Both he and Nate had made hasty retreats shortly thereafter. She didn’t blame them one bit.
This morning, everything had looked much better. Katie’s illness had passed. The social worker had found a great place for the twin babies. Rainy had actually slept eight full hours last night and worship service had lifted her spirits to new heights.
She squinted up at the blue March sky, where wispy mare’s tails swirled, reminding her of today’s outing at Crossroads Ranch. The idea of seeing hunky Nate again was pretty uplifting, too.
She couldn’t forget that sweet moment when he had rescued Emma and Joshua from the back of the closet. He didn’t even know those kids or her, and yet he’d lured them out of their most secure hiding place, something that had, on occasion, taken her an hour to do. Before the policeman arrived, she’d had the notion that Nate didn’t like children. Guess she’d rushed to judgment on that one.
Joshua tugged her hand. Though dressed simply like his brother in a clean Henley shirt, blue jeans and tennis shoes, he was a handsome little boy. “Are we going now, Rainy?”
“To see the cows?” Emma asked. All spiffed up in fluffy church dresses and black patent shoes with white lace socks, Emma and Katie were as pretty as spring flowers. They stood together, the redhead and the blond, holding hands. At six and seven, they were close enough in age to be both best friends and worst enemies.
“Home to change clothes and have lunch first.” She gazed around again but didn’t see Nate.
“Hey, Rainy, got a minute?” A slender man in a green shirt and gold tie bounded down the steps, his toothy smile sparkling in the sunlight.
“Always have time for a friend.”
Guy Bartlett was the youth and children’s pastor. Rainy worked with the young minister on