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“Your family’s qualifications for running this operation.”
“I’m an orphan.” The words were a flat admission. “Obviously, my brother and sister, as well. We cycled through the foster care system until we were adopted out.” She shrugged and started the Ute. “More than you probably care to know.”
Jack paused. He understood and cared far more than Lucy Maxwell would ever know. When his brother died, he too had been orphaned. His mother had taken off and his father had checked out.
Aunt Meri had saved him. He needed to remember that. His aunt was the only reason he was giving Big Heart Ranch a second chance.
She steered the Ute toward the main ranch road. “I have a master’s degree in business management from Spears College of Business Management. Travis majored in animal sciences and graduated from the Oklahoma State University College of Agriculture and Natural Sciences. Emma also attended OSU and is a licensed social worker with a master’s degree.”
“How did three orphans manage that?”
Lucy’s head jerked back at his question and she inhaled sharply. Slowing the Ute to a stop, she shifted into Neutral to look at him. “Excuse me?”
He raised a palm. “Don’t read something into my words I didn’t intend. My questions are simply part of my due diligence.”
Silence reigned for moments, as she stared straight out the windshield of the Ute. When she turned to him once again, her eyes were shuttered.
“In addition to scholarships, we sold snake oil on Saturdays to fund our education.”
Jack met her gaze. She didn’t give him time to respond.
“As I stated, we were in the foster care system for several years. A cousin of our mother tracked us down and adopted all of us. I was ten, Travis was eight, Emma five. At the time, we were living in separate homes with monthly visitation.”
“Separated from your siblings? That had to be tough.”
“I’m not looking for pity.”
“I wasn’t offering pity.”
She nodded and said nothing for several moments.
“You inherited the ranch?” Jack asked.
“Yes. Our property is bordered by that hewn wood fence,” Lucy said as she pointed to a fence in the distance.
Fingers tight on the wheel, she turned the Ute left and drove down a shady, tree-lined street. The redbuds and maples were thick with green foliage. The aroma of freshly mown grass rode on the slight breeze.
“These are the boys’ homes.” Lucy pointed to the redbrick, two-story, Colonial-style houses, each spaced two lots apart, occupying the right side of the street. The left side was fenced, and horses grazed in the pasture.
A group of helmeted cyclists rode by, all young girls with arms extended to offer enthusiastic waves. “Hi, Miss Lucy!” they called in unison.
Lucy raised a hand out the vehicle in greeting.
“Why aren’t they in school?”
“It’s summer, Mr.— Uh, Jack.”
He turned to look at the pasture on the right. “Cattle? That seems ambitious.”
“That’s us, and why not? Travis has graduated from the OSU Master Cattleman Program. He’s worked several area ranches over the years.”
“He’s an impressive guy.”
“There’s not a person on the ranch who isn’t impressive. We function with a staff of qualified professionals and volunteers. We need and value everyone. I hope you’ll note that when you review our funding.”
Jack stared out the window as they passed horses nibbling on grass and clover, their tails swishing at flies in the summer heat. The ranch was beautiful, he’d give her that. A part of him longed to walk through the fields spread before him, like he had as a child, when he hadn’t had any cares. He and Daniel would lie on their backs in his aunt’s pasture, finding shapes in the fluffy clouds that slowly moved across the endless blue Oklahoma summer sky.
A drop of sweat rolled down the back of his shirt, bringing him back to reality. Jack shifted uncomfortably. “I’d forgotten about how hot it is here in July.”
Lucy shrugged. “You’ll get used to the weather. The nice thing about the Oklahoma humidity is that it makes everything grow. You should see our vegetable garden.”
He turned to her and raised a brow. “Vegetable garden, as well?”
“Yes. I hope you’re sensing a pattern.” Lucy offered a proud smile. “We want to be as self-sustaining as possible. Growing things also gives our children an appreciation for everything the Lord provides. We don’t ever want to take that for granted. The more we do for ourselves, the better stewards we can be of the financial blessings we receive.”
Jack said nothing to the obvious jibe.
“Look over there. Through the trees,” Lucy said. “Girls’ ranch. You’ll actually get a close-up of everything after you receive your chore assignment.”
“Chore assignment?”
“Everyone at the ranch has chores.”
Jack wrapped his mind around that bit of information and stared out the window. A moment later, Lucy hit the brakes hard. He lurched forward, thrusting a hand to the dashboard in protection as the vehicle suddenly came to a complete halt.
“Sorry,” Lucy said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Is this how you usually drive?”
“No. Look to your right.”
Jack glanced out in the field. “More cows.”
“Our missing goat is out there, too.”
“What’s that?” Jack pointed to a black hen that strutted along the right side of the road, her black tail feathers raised regally.
“Mrs. Carmody got out, too!”
“You lose animals often here at the ranch?”
“They must have heard you were coming. However, to be fair, Beau and Mrs. Carmody escape every chance they can.”
“You name all your chickens?”
“We do. Come on, let’s go get her.”
Jack blinked. “What?”
“You walk toward her and I’ll circle around behind.”
“What about the goat?”
“He’ll be easy. I told you he’s got vision and hearing issues. As for Mrs. C., she’s an old hen and doesn’t move very fast. She’ll be easy, too.”
“How’d she get out anyhow?”
“I don’t know. Let’s catch her and then I’ll be sure to ask.”
Jack frowned at the response and stepped from the Ute.
“You walk toward her and I’ll circle behind.”
“Are you sure this is going to work?”
“No. I’m not sure of anything,” she said with a grin. “If you have a better idea, I’m open to suggestions.”
Jack moved toward the chicken.
“Flap your arms,” Lucy said.
“Flap my arms?”
“Why?”
“Let her know you’re friendly.” She cocked her head. “You don’t have any medical conditions that preclude you from flapping, do you?”
“No. But I try not to look like a fool on principle.”
Lucy began to laugh.
He paused for a moment at the sound of her laughter bubbling over. Then, despite his better judgment, Jack tucked his hands under and moved his arms up and down.
The chicken wasn’t impressed. She slowly scratched at the ground and then began to run toward him on wobbly claws. “Why is she charging me?” Jack yelled.
“This is Mrs. Carmody and she doesn’t follow the fowl rules.”
Jack’s eyes rounded when the bird attempted liftoff, her black wings flapping furiously. Could chickens fly?
This one managed a small liftoff before landing on her backside. Regrouping, the beady-eyed bird targeted him, one step at a time. Suddenly she picked up speed.
“Old and not very fast, huh? That bird is going to attack!”
Jack turned and ran, straight into a pile of something soft and wet. “Oomph!” His feet slid out from under him, and he landed on his back in the sweet grass.
“Good thing that grass hasn’t been mowed yet,” Lucy observed.
He opened his eyes. Mrs. Carmody was tucked neatly against Lucy, who stroked her feathers with her other hand. The chicken squawked and fussed for a moment, but Lucy held firm.
He had to give the ranch director credit; she’d grabbed the bird and was now doing an admirable job of trying not to laugh.
“Yeah, good thing,” he returned as a black feather danced through the air and landed on him.
“Why did she run at me?” Jack asked.
“She was running to you. Big difference. I think she mistook you for Travis. You’re both about the same size and coloring. Travis always brings Mrs. Carmody treats.”
“So you’re saying that I ran for nothing.”
She glanced away, lips twitching. “Um, yes.”
“And the flapping?”
“To get you into the moment.”
Lucy held out a hand, and he grasped her palm, heaving himself to a standing position. Their eyes met and he froze for a moment, lost in her gaze. Then he glanced down at his once spotless shoes, lifting one and then the other to inspect the soles. A pungent odor drifted to his nose and he cringed. “Manure? Is that what I slipped on?”
She nodded and sniffed the air. “Horse, I’d say. Fresh.”
“Do you know how much these shoes cost?” Jack rubbed his feet back and forth on the long blades of grass.
“My guess is enough to feed one of our kids for a year.”
Jack only grumbled in response, and then he stopped what he was doing and stared at Lucy.
“What?” she asked.
“Could you have caught Mrs. Carmody on your own?”
“Probably.” She said the word slowly.
“That’s what I thought. So you were having fun with the city guy.”
“I’d like to think of it as breaking the ice. You and I have a whole summer to work together. We need to get along. Besides, if it’s any consolation, you passed chicken flapping with an A plus.”
Jack couldn’t help himself. He started laughing, and when he stopped, his gaze met Lucy’s.
Her lips parted sweetly, and he realized they had at least reached détente. In that moment he became aware that his obligation to remain objective while he investigated the ranch for the Brisbane Foundation would be compromised every time Lucy smiled at him.
“What about your goat?” he asked.
“You hold Mrs. Carmody and I’ll go grab Beau.”
He stepped back and held up his hands. “Ah, no thank you. Why don’t I get the goat?”
“You’re okay with that?”
“I’m okay with pretty much anything if it means not holding a chicken.”
