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“Yes, sir.”
“Give Grace a nice soft rub on her nose and talk to her, real quiet.”
“I already did that.”
“Can’t ever give an animal too much loving. You’re building a long-term relationship here.”
Emma smiled at the words. He was so right. Zach might have spent the last twelve years in the navy, but he still remembered his cowboy roots.
Moments later, Zach nodded and gave Mick a thumbs-up. “You’re ready to get on the horse.”
Mick swallowed and his face paled. “But what if she bucks me?”
“Grace is your friend. Give her a chance. You trust her, right?”
He chewed his lip in thought before answering. “Maybe. But what if I fall off while I’m trying to get on?”
Zach raised his hands and stepped closer. “I’m right here. I’ll catch you.” He met Mick’s worried gaze. “You’re just going to sit in the saddle today. That’s all. Nothing to it.”
Mick didn’t appear comforted by the words.
“Do I look like I can catch you?” Zach asked.
“Yes, sir, but I don’t want to look stupid.” Mick frowned yet again, this time with a glance over at Emma.
“I hear you.” Zach pivoted around on his boot and narrowed his eyes. “Would you please excuse us, Miss Emma?”
“Oh, sure. Yes. Of course. Sorry.” Embarrassed, she turned away with the mare and headed inside to untack the horse.
Ten minutes later, the clop, clop of a horse plodding along on the stable floor had her peeking over the stall gate.
Zach offered a nod of acknowledgment as he and Grace walked down to the last stall on the left.
Emma took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for interrupting your lesson.”
“No problem. You know how it is. He’s a kid and he’s terrified he’ll humiliate himself in front of a beautiful woman.”
“Beautiful woman?” she murmured.
“Look in the mirror lately?”
“I...” She cleared her throat and concentrated on the smooth velvet coat of the horse. “Well, yes, but usually what I see is the mother of twins.”
“Look again.”
“So how did you do?” she asked, letting the comment sail past her for analysis at a later time.
“Are you going to harass me about my knee again?”
When her hand slipped midstroke and the brush clattered to the ground, the chestnut mare snuffled an objection. “I’m talking about Mick,” she clarified.
Minutes passed without a response.
Emma peeked over the stall, but couldn’t see Zach. “Come on. Aren’t you going to share?”
“I didn’t realize you were waiting for a report,” he called.
“Mick’s been challenging since he arrived and I’ve had a few therapy sessions with him. Naturally, I’m curious.”
“The lesson went well. Mick will be riding in no time.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I’m going to talk to Travis about taking over his lessons.”
“So what did you do?”
“Can’t say I did anything new. Went slow and acknowledged his fear. You’re the therapist, you know the drill.”
“Yes, but what did you do that Travis didn’t?”
“Probably nothing. Maybe I got through to him because I can relate to this kid.”
“Oh?” Emma cleaned off the brush and currycomb in her hand and gave the horse a pat to let him know they were done.
“Yeah. You might say we have a lot in common.”
“Might?” She patted the horse again, checked the water and feed before latching the stall behind her.
“Yeah, might.”
“Because both of you are big brothers with a chip on your shoulder, you mean?”
She thought she heard a chuckle but couldn’t be sure.
“Something like that,” he said.
Emma put the equipment away in the tack room across from Grace’s stall. When she came out, Zach was waiting for her. He’d leaned back against Grace’s stall gate with his weight on his right leg. “So tell me how this works.”
“How what works?” she asked.
“The setup with the kids at the ranch.”
Emma pulled her car keys from her back pocket and paused. “What do you want to know?”
“How the ranch helps the kids. What do you do that’s so special?”
“What we do isn’t special. It’s simple and consistent. We create a new normal for them at Big Heart Ranch. We have two ranches here, the boys’ ranch and the girls’ ranch, separated by a road. The children are placed in a real house with house parents, not a dormitory. It’s not a biological family, but it is a family of the heart. Their forever family from that point on. They have daily devotionals, lessons, homework, chores and all, like any other kid.”
“That’s it?”
“Zach, that’s more than most of these kids have ever had. Every one of them comes from a situation that includes neglect and abuse. Many are orphaned or abandoned.”
Zach took a deep breath at her words.
“When their heads hit the pillow at night, they no longer have the burden of worry or fear on their shoulders. We replace that with unconditional love and God’s healing grace. We promise them that we will never lie to them and that we will always protect them. In return, they follow the ranch rules.” She shrugged. “We free them to be children.” Emma sighed. “Being a kid is highly undervalued these days.”
For a long moment, Zach stared ahead as though unseeing. He was somewhere else, and she wished with all her heart that she understood where.
“Zach,” she murmured. “You okay?”
He turned slightly and met her gaze. “Never better.”
“Then I guess I’ll see you later. I’ve got to get home to the girls.”
“Thanks, Emma.”
“For what?”
“For letting me work with Mick.”
“Sure.” Emma walked slowly to her car, puzzling over the conversation with Zach. She was certain that something remarkable had just happened but what that was eluded her.
Had she spoken to the Lord about Zach lately, or had she relegated him to a forgotten place in her prayers because she was annoyed by his dismissal of RangePro? His dismissal of her. It was time to remember her words about unconditional love and give Zach Norman what he deserved.
* * *
Zach’s assessing gaze took in the Big Heart Ranch bunkhouse that would be his home for the next eight weeks. Though Spartan, the place had everything he needed. Small kitchenette and a little living room, complete with a love seat and recliner facing a television. Grabbing his duffel from the floor, he tossed it and his security badge from human resources onto one of the four empty beds.
Easing down onto the mattress, he closed his eyes a moment.
He was in pain.
Emma was right, and it totally grated.
His knee ached after a long day and he wasn’t sure which hurt most, the smooth dismount while roping the mechanical bull or the multiple awkward exits from the saddle while working in the pasture. There was definitely a learning curve to remembering to guard the knee. Should have worn his brace.
Except, he hated the brace. Sure, it was worn under his jeans but he felt like everyone knew it was there.
He also refused to take the narcotics or the muscle relaxers that the physician ordered. Instead, Zach grabbed the familiar tube of prescription analgesic cream from his bag.
With a dab of cream in his hand, Zach rolled up the pant leg of his sweats and massaged the scars with vengeance. Six months ago, after the last unsuccessful surgery, he had come face-to-face with his future. Like the ranch kids, he was exploring his new normal.
In his last covert reconnaissance operation, Zach not only lost his best friend, Ian Clark, but his career and life as he’d known it for twelve years had been buried.
No matter how many surgeries he endured, he would never be 100 percent fit for duty again. The military docs were big on reminding him that he was fortunate to be alive, much less walk.
Lately, he was feeling far from grateful. What would he say to Ian’s family when he visited them?
Sorry I made it and Ian didn’t?
No, that wasn’t going to cut it for parents with only one child, a child who was not coming home.
Zach hung his head.
He’d postponed meeting with the Clarks multiple times, waiting until he could figure that out. In the meantime, life as he knew it was over. A washed-up navy SEAL. Who was Zach Norman outside of the uniform? He didn’t know, but he was about to find out.
As if on cue, the bunkhouse door flew open and Dutch Stevens, the wrangler Zach met earlier in the day, strode into the room, his scuffed boots beating a rhythm on the oak floorboards. The wizened cowboy tipped back his well-worn Western hat and pointedly stared at Zach’s knee.
“That’s quite a few scars you got there.”
“A road map to the unknown after three surgeries.”
“Ouch.” Dutch grimaced.
“It looks worse than it is.”
“Not from where I stand, so I guess I’ll have to take your word for that.” Dutch shook his head. “Did you meet Tripp Walker, the equine manager?”
“Yeah. Talkative guy.”
Dutch chuckled. “Tripp believes that if more people would think before they spoke, they’d open their mouth a whole lot less.”
“He’s on to something.”
“Not sure I agree with him. But that’s our Tripp.” He rubbed his chin and kept talking. “Anyhow, he’s got weights and a bench set up for the staff in the back of the equipment barn near Travis’s office. Use them anytime you like.”
“Thanks, Dutch.”
“You looked pretty good out there roping with Travis. Like maybe you’ve done that before.”
“A time or two,” Zach admitted. “Did a little bulldogging in my time, as well as heading and heeling.”
“You don’t say?” The words held a tinge of awed respect. “A real cowboy then. I suspected as much.”
“My father used to run a ranch outside of Pawhuska. That’s how I met the Maxwell kids. When they were pulled out of foster care by a relative, they lived right next door.”
Dutch gave a slow nod. “Sure. That’s right. Jay Norman. Retired a few years ago. Steve was your brother?”
“Half brother.”
“Sorry for your loss.”
“Thanks.”
“I was out of town during the funeral. I guess I missed meeting you then.”
Zach nodded. He’d been in and out on the day of the funeral. Arrived on the red-eye and left before sunset.
