скачать книгу бесплатно
The Rancher's Family Wish
Lois Richer
A Home for His HeartAll Tanner Johns ever wanted was a place to call home. After inheriting Wranglers Ranch, Tanner is determined to carry on with his guardian’s legacy and turn it into a camp for troubled kids. Widow Sophie Armstrong is just as focused on her goals—and on raising her two young children…alone. Meeting the rugged cowboy changes everything. Tanner is a natural with her kids, and he lightens Sophie’s load in ways she couldn’t have imagined. But as the shadows in his past come between them, Tanner must convince Sophie he’s a man she can count on—for keeps.Wranglers Ranch: Offering hope, love and a fresh start
A Home for His Heart
All Tanner Johns ever wanted was a place to call home. After inheriting Wranglers Ranch, Tanner is determined to carry on with his guardian’s legacy and turn it into a camp for troubled kids. Widow Sophie Armstrong is just as focused on her goals—and on raising her two young children…alone. Meeting the rugged cowboy changes everything. Tanner is a natural with her kids, and he lightens Sophie’s load in ways she couldn’t have imagined. But as the shadows in his past come between them, Tanner must convince Sophie he’s a man she can count on—for keeps.
“It’s Mr. Cowboy,” Beth yelled, racing to the door.
Then to Sophie’s utter dismay, her daughter said to Tanner, “Houston, we have a problem.”
Tall, lanky and lean, with wide denim-clad shoulders that looked perfect for leaning on, Tanner Johns was every woman’s fantasy cowboy.
Not her fantasy cowboy, of course, but—
“What’s the problem, er, Houston?” His gaze rested on Sophie.
Sophie couldn’t explain because there was something wrong with her breathing. As in, she couldn’t. Then Davy came racing down the stairs, tripped on the perpetually loose runner at the bottom tread and tumbled headlong into the cowboy’s arms. Tanner caught her son and held on just long enough to make sure Davy could stand on his own.
“Something I said?” he joked, winking at her.
The man winked at her! The control Sophie had almost recovered vanished. She figured she probably looked like a beached fish, gulping for air. Stupidly, she wished she’d had time to fix her hair.
Where’s your independence now?
LOIS RICHER loves traveling, swimming and quilting, but mostly she loves writing stories that show God’s boundless love for His precious children. As she says, “His love never changes or gives up. It’s always waiting for me. My stories feature imperfect characters learning that love doesn’t mean attaining perfection. Love is about keeping on keeping on.” You can contact Lois via email, loisricher@gmail.com, or on Facebook (Facebook.com/LoisRicherAuthor (http://www.Facebook.com/LoisRicherAuthor)).
The Rancher’s Family Wish
Lois Richer
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Fan into flame the gift of God that is within you.
—2 Timothy 1:6
For James,
who teaches me about love and trust.
Contents
Cover (#uafbed0a4-effb-56df-97bf-fd80b3d90fd5)
Back Cover Text (#u92757d18-e8ff-571a-ad3e-93b9e4f2253d)
Introduction (#ubc53a923-6a60-5020-a3ef-710b36afe93a)
About the Author (#u903f2ea9-8094-5da7-8290-f4f17211cbb3)
Title Page (#u6fb85857-c543-5ac5-98dd-c197bec3d49b)
Bible Verse (#u21a4d52a-e3d3-5161-9604-91b2d0dfc484)
Dedication (#u892df4eb-9301-5d3d-99f4-92c3e290a99f)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Dear Reader
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u9cf4e1b2-a490-50a6-b418-9f78b8aed302)
“Mr. Cowboy!”
Lost in thoughts of his upcoming meeting, Tanner Johns barely registered the call of the child standing outside the door of the Tucson grocery store he’d just left.
“Hey, Mr. Cowboy!”
When the call came a third time, Tanner realized the girl had to be addressing him since there was no one else in the parking lot wearing cowboy boots and a Stetson, no one else who could even remotely be called a cowboy. He walked toward the child, taken aback by her extraordinary beauty. The piercing scrutiny of intense blue eyes enhanced her ivory skin and flaxen hair. He was a few feet away when he noticed the obvious signs of Down syndrome.
“Were you calling me?” Tanner glanced around to be certain.
“Uh-huh.” Her smile made her skin glow.
“Why?” Tanner automatically smiled back. This little cutie was a looker with a grin that would melt the most weather-beaten hide.
“’Cause you’re a cowboy and cowboys have ranches.” Her bell-like voice carried on January’s breeze as it whispered across blacktop shimmering in the Arizona heat.
Several people turned to study them. After a glimpse at Tanner their focus veered to the child, benevolent smiles widening when they spied the big cage at her feet. Wait a minute—rabbits? How had he missed that?
“A ranch is a good place to keep bunnies,” she said.
“Uh, how many are there?” Tanner couldn’t decipher one ball of fur from another.
“Only eight.” She was probably five or six, he guessed. Sadness filled her voice as she explained, “We can’t keep them anymore.”
“I see.” In spite of Tanner’s reluctance to get involved, her innocence evoked a memory long buried inside him. Had he ever been that guileless?
“What happened to your face, Mr. Cowboy?” The question was open and honest. Tanner liked her steady stare better than others’ quick gawks. Empathy beamed out from her blue eyes. “Does it hurt?”
“A little,” he admitted. “I scratched myself on a wire fence.”
“People stare at you.” She nodded. “They stare at me, too. It’s ’cause we’re different.”
“They stare at you because you’re beautiful.” Affection for this spunky child flared inside him. “And because you’re special.” He meant her Down syndrome.
“I’m not special.” She shook her blond head firmly. “I’m just me. Mama says I’m exactly the way God made me.” The happiness wreathing her round face made Tanner wish he’d had a mother like hers. His brain skittered away from that sensitive subject.
“Where is your mom?” Tanner glanced around curiously.
“Getting my brother.” She pointed to a young woman with glossy, shoulder-length hair. It was clear the mom was trying to reason with a reluctant boy whom she held by one arm as she drew him forward. Her brightly flowered sundress billowed around her slim figure. She looked too young to have a daughter and a son. “That’s Davy. He gets mad. A lot.”
“What’s your name?” Tanner forced his gaze from the brunette’s lovely face to the girl in front of him. Mother and daughter shared translucent skin that seemed to bloom from within, but that’s where the resemblance between the cute mom and this blonde sweetheart ended.
“I’m Beth. I’m almost six.” When she grinned, dimples appeared in her apple cheeks.
“Pleased to meet you, Beth.” Tanner held out a hand. He suppressed a laugh when she shook it heartily, her face completely serious. Beth’s trusting gaze made him feel ten feet tall.
“Cowboys have horses, don’t they?” Beth scanned the parking lot with a frown.
“Yes.” Tanner choked down his mirth. “But today I left Samson at the ranch.”
Beth’s mother arrived breathless, studying him with a protective look flickering in her cocoa-toned eyes. Beauty certainly ran in this family.
“Hello. I’m Tanner Johns. Beth was just asking if I’d take her rabbits to my ranch.”
“Will you?” A desperation the harried mother couldn’t mask leached through her words before she huffed a laugh. “Sorry, that was rude. I’m Sophie Armstrong. This is my son, Davy—David.”
“Nice to meet you both.” Tanner took one look at the surly-faced boy and returned his attention to the easy-on-the-eyes mother.
“So can you take the rabbits?” The pleading in Sophie’s voice was hard enough to resist, but that sound—half hope, half desperation—that’s what got to Tanner. “I’d be very grateful.”
“I—uh—” You should have walked away, Tanner.
“Do we have to give them all away, Mama?” Beth’s gaze implored her mother to rethink her decision.
“I’m sorry but we do, honey. Mrs. Jones is very upset that the bunnies got out of their pen again and ate her flowers.” The gentleness of Sophie’s “mom” voice and the tender brush of her fingers against her daughter’s flaxen head didn’t need translation. She loved this child.
“Who cares about stupid old rabbits?” Davy scoffed. “Good riddance.”
The words were a bluff to hide his anger. Tanner knew that because as a kid he’d used that same tone when life had jabbed him with reality once too often. But when Beth’s blue eyes watered and her bottom lip wobbled, Tanner’s chest tightened.
“Davy, that’s mean,” his mother reproved. “Beth loves the rabbits.”
“She shouldn’t. We always have to let go of stuff we love.” The boy turned away to scuff his toe against a hump in the pavement, head bent, shoulders stiff.
Sophie’s face fell and her amazing smile dimmed. Though Tanner understood the pain behind the words, he wanted to ream out the kid for hurting his lovely mother and sister.
Whoa! You don’t do getting involved, Tanner, his brain scoffed. Never have, though Burt tried his best to teach you. Walk away.
But two pairs of eyes, one a rich Arizona sky blue and one dark as the dust trails on Mount Lemmon’s highest slopes, wouldn’t let him leave.
“I can’t—that is, uh, I don’t know anything about keeping rabbits.” Tanner gazed longingly at his truck, his way of escape. Why had he answered Beth’s call in the first place?
“Okay, thanks anyway.” Sophie smiled politely as her fingers squeezed Beth’s shoulder. “Come on, kids. Let’s get these guys loaded up. We’ll have to take them to the pet shelter. I don’t dare take them home again or Mrs. Jones will call the landlord.”
“Old bag,” Davy muttered almost under his breath.
“Manners, David,” his mother reproved. “Now let’s get moving. I’m working tonight, remember?”
“Again,” Davy complained in a grumpy tone.
“Yes, again. Because that’s how I pay for those new sneakers you’re wearing. So carry the cage, Davy, and let’s go.” Sophie Armstrong offered Tanner a distracted smile before urging the children forward.
As they walked away Tanner heard Beth protest.
“This morning you said the pet shelter can’t keep them,” she said. “What will happen to our bunnies, Mama?”
“God will take care of them.” Sophie paused long enough to glance Tanner’s way. He thought he glimpsed a hint of guilt in her brown eyes before she resumed her speed-walk to a red van. “After all, He cares for the sparrows and the lilies of the field, remember?”
Nice sentiment but her tone held no assurance.
It’s not your problem. That did nothing to lift the blanket of guilt weighing down Tanner’s shoulders. As he turned from watching Davy wrangle the cage into the van, his gaze slid past then returned to the logo printed on the side.
Sophie’s Kitchen—Home-Cooked Food Without the Hassle.
