Being careful not to bump or trip him, he raced beside the little guy down the long hall. Nate sped up to reach the ball before Zach. He turned, lightly hitting it back toward the living room. Squealing with laughter, Zach tore after it and knocked it into the big room.
Nate moseyed along behind him. The toddler reached the ball, turned around, and kicked it to him. They kicked it back and forth for a few minutes before Zach did an about-face and headed over to his white toy box in the corner.
As the child dug through the box, Dub nodded toward his office. “Let’s escape while he’s busy. Otherwise, you’re liable to be sittin’ on the floor, playing with his toy guitar while he plays his drum.”
Nate followed him into the office and shut the door. “So he’s a musician too?”
“I think he might be. He loves music and has good rhythm. He starts wiggling every time he hears a tune, and he keeps a good beat when Chance plays the guitar.” Dub sat down behind the big oak desk that had been the main piece of furniture in the room for as long as Nate could remember.
The old brown leather chairs had been replaced with new brown ones since he’d left. There were some current family photos on the bookshelf along with several older ones— including one of him, Chance, and Will. Sue had taken it the day Nate stopped by to see them before he headed off to basic training.
Dub followed his gaze, swiveling his chair around. “You were skinnier then.”
Nate laughed and relaxed. “Yes, sir, I was. I thought you worked me hard, but I didn’t know how easy I had it until I hit basic.”
“The army can turn wimps into men.” Dub swung back around toward him. “And you weren’t a wimp. We heard you got hurt. Any lasting trouble from it?”
“My leg gets a little stiff and sore occasionally, but that’s about it. It wasn’t bad.” Though worse than he’d told his parents. He’d spent over a week in the base hospital, then more time on limited duty.
“You had a lot of people praying for you, including all of us.”
“I appreciate that, sir. I know those prayers and the Lord got me through. I did a lot of praying myself.” Still did. He absently brushed his finger over the scar on his arm.
“So you’re still walking the straight and narrow? Didn’t get messed up with drugs or booze?”
“Never have done any drugs. And the one time I got drunk and hungover was enough for me.”
“Was that when you and Chance chased my bull all over the pasture in Dad’s old pickup?”
Nate felt warmth creep up his neck. He’d hoped Dub hadn’t learned about that escapade. “Yes, sir. Our junior year in high school. When did Chance tell you about it?”
“About six months ago.” A smile crinkled the corners of the older man’s eyes. “But I sorted it out at the time. The tracks pretty much told the tale, along with the fact that Chance was sicker than a dog the next morning. I spotted him a couple of days later trying to make peace with that bull. Ol’ Brutus wasn’t having anything to do with him, so I knew my suspicions were right.”
“You never said anything about it.” Nate was surprised Dub hadn’t fired him. Or at least chewed him and Chance up one side and down the other.
“I kept my eye on you to make certain you’d learned your lesson. Besides, I figured it was partly my fault.”
“How?”
“I’d done something similar in my youth. My cousin and I got to telling tales one night and spilled that one to the boys. It might not have been where Chance got the idea, but I’m sure it influenced him some.”
“I couldn’t exactly say. We were pretty drunk by the time Brutus lumbered into sight. About all I remember clearly is that we had the radio on, and we decided that he came to listen to the music.” He thought he might have been the one to suggest chasing the poor bull, but that probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say during a job interview.
Dub’s expression sobered. “It took me awhile after Viet Nam to get comfortable with things. With people.” The day before Nate left for the army, Dub had talked to him for a couple of hours about what it was like to be in a war. Dub had flown a Huey helicopter, carrying supplies and troops into combat, carrying the wounded and, too often, body bags back out.
“I know I’ll have some adjustments, though I’ve been back in the States for three months.”
“So was I. It wasn’t enough time to get my head on straight.”
Nate understood what he meant. Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever get out of the tense, high-alert combat mode. Or if the nightmares would go away. They’d started about a month ago, but sometimes it seemed as if they’d haunted him forever. He probably should have mentioned them during his psych evaluation before he got out, but he was afraid that might delay his discharge. He hoped they’d go away once he settled in as a civilian. “You managed it, though.”
“It took a long time.” Dub’s eyes narrowed. “Some men never get there.”
“I think I’ll do better when I get a place of my own. I love my folks, but I can’t relax at home, not the way I used to. If a cabinet door slams, I fly about two feet off the couch. I’ve been there two days, and Mom is practically tiptoeing around the kitchen, trying not to bang the pans or close a drawer too hard. I told her not to worry about it, that I’ll get used to it.” He knew from experience that it wouldn’t happen quickly.
“She’s a mom, so she worries and does her best not to upset you.”
Nate nodded. “And that’s hard on her. She’s had enough stress with Dad already. I’d really appreciate the job, sir. It may take me some time to get my expertise back, and I expect you may do some things differently now, but I’m a quick learner.”
“You always were.” Dub leaned back slightly in his desk chair. “You might miss the cow the first few times you try to rope one, but I don’t think you’ll fall off the horse in the process.”
“I hope not. The men never would let me live that down.”
Dub grinned and spun a pen around on his desk. “Chance and Will would be the worst.” His smile faded as he slanted a glance at Nate. “What about Jenna? Are you still in love with her?”
Nate’s first impulse was to tell him that it wasn’t any of his business. But it was. Dub loved his children, especially his daughter. He wondered if her father regretted encouraging her to marry Jimmy Don. And despite their differences years ago regarding her, Dub was his friend. He owed him the truth. “Maybe. I’ll always love her as a friend, but I honestly don’t know if I’m still in love with her.”
He looked down at his hands for a minute then straightened and met the rancher’s gaze directly. “I’ll never be rich or able to give a woman a big house and expensive things. But I’m responsible and a hard worker. If the Lord ever blesses me with a wife, I’ll do everything possible to provide a good home for her. And she’ll never have to worry about me being unfaithful. I’m not that boy you scared off ten years ago, Dub. And Jenna isn’t the starry-eyed homecoming queen. We’ve fought our battles and survived. We’ve earned the right to find our own way.”
Dub frowned and practically growled. “Jimmy Don almost destroyed that girl. She only crawled out of that pit about six months ago, and it won’t take much to knock her back in. I won’t let you hurt her.”
“Hurting her is the last thing in the world I want to do.” Nate leaned forward. “But I do want to see if God has something for us without worrying about you breathing down my neck or firing me if I ask her out.” He slumped back in the chair. “We’re gettin’ way ahead of ourselves. She may not be the least bit interested in me. And I’m sure not ready to haul her to the preacher’s in the next week or two.”
“You don’t have the job yet, either.” A faint smile flickered across Dub’s face.
Nate shrugged and grinned. “True.”
The rancher ran through the requirements of the job. As Jenna had said, generally three days a week, sometimes more. People didn’t work eight hours a day on a ranch. As on a farm, the workday was pretty much from sunup to sundown, occasionally longer. He agreed that Nate could have more time off to bring in the cotton during harvest and again at planting time if he needed it. He named a wage that was more than fair—even generous to Nate’s way of thinking, since he’d been away from ranching for so long—especially since housing was included. They discussed a few more details, then stood and shook hands.
“Can you start Monday?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll ease you into things,” Dub said with a teasing grin. “We start the roundup on Monday.”
Nate laughed. “That’s not exactly easing into it.”
“But it’ll be fun.”
“Yes, it will.” Excitement swept through him as the tune to “Back in the Saddle Again” ran through his mind. He would be one sore hombre all next week, but he looked forward to spending the time on horseback and working cattle.
“You can move in anytime. Nadine left the living room furniture. She said it wouldn’t go with her new house, but if you don’t want it, we can put it in storage somewhere.”
“I’m glad to have it. I think the folks will let me take the bedroom set in my room, but that’s about it. Guess I’ll have to go shopping. I’ve never set up a house before.”
“You might as well plan on eating dinner and supper here, at least the days you’re working on the ranch. Will is here most of the time, and Chance eats here whenever he can. Ramona still thinks she’s feeding a bunkhouse full of cowboys, so there is always more than enough food. She’ll welcome someone else to spoil.”
Nate wondered if Dub thought about how much he would see Jenna if he ate with them. “I appreciate it. I haven’t had much practice at cooking, other than heating up rations while on patrol.”
They walked toward the door, but before they reached it, Dub rested his hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Be careful with my little girl. You hurt her, and you’ll answer to me,” he added gruffly.
“And Chance and Will too. As my dad used to say, I’m not cruisin’ for a bruisin’. I’ll be careful. For her sake and mine.”
Dub’s grip remained firmly on his shoulder. “She’s a partner in the ranch now.”
“So she said.”
“More than one man has made a play for her, noses in the air, sniffin’ money for the taking.”
“Then they didn’t know much about ranching, did they?” Nate grinned and reached for the door handle. “It’s about as much of a gamble as farming. Walkin’ in high cotton one year and dirt poor the next.”
Nate stuck a pillow behind him and leaned back against the oak headboard of his bed, cordless phone in one hand and a ticket to the homecoming game in the other. Chance had given it to him the previous evening after he talked to Dub. His friend had bought it in hopes that he would be home in time for the festivities. Chance had also quietly, if not subtly, suggested that he invite Jenna to go with him, since everybody could see fireworks between them clear across the room. Their seats were right next to each other anyway. Nate hadn’t bothered to ask his friend how that happened. Obviously, Chance had taken note of his feelings for Jenna years ago too.
Now, all he had to do was work up the courage to call her. They’d often done things together around the ranch when they were younger, but he’d never officially asked her out on a date. He knew she was glad he was home. The hug she had given him proved that. She’d held him extra tight, but had she felt something more than just welcoming an old friend? Had he really seen interest in her eyes, not only when he stopped to help her on the road, but several times during that evening when he caught her watching him? Or did he want it so much that he was imagining things?
Funny how a man could charge into battle without hesitation, but calling a pretty, sweet woman made him as nervous as a porcupine in a balloon factory. “Lord, I need some help here. Help me to be calm and not make a fool of myself.”
Taking a deep breath, he dialed the ranch. When Jenna answered, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. Hard as it was to talk to her, it would have been ten times more difficult if Dub had been the one to pick up the phone.
“Have you got a minute?”
“Sure. I’m entering some expenses on the computer. I can use a break. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you’d like to go to the homecoming game.”
“We’re all going together and meeting Chance in town. You know the folks. They haven’t missed a game in almost forty years.” Her voice trailed off as if she were distracted. When she spoke again, he pictured her holding the phone away from her mouth. Something, or somebody, was making an awful racket. “Zach, don’t beat on the desk with your drumsticks. Hit the chair cushion. That’s a good boy. Thank you.” She took a breath and turned her attention back to him. “You could come with us. It might be cozy, but we can fit five in Mom’s Lincoln.”
Cozy sounded good. Being alone with her would be better. “That might work. But I was hoping I could take you.” He cleared his throat. “By myself.”
There was a long pause, and he heard her swallow. “Like a date?” Her voice was a little wobbly.
Great. Now he’d gone and shaken her up. “You can call it something else if you want to. But, yeah, I’m thinking of it as a date. One that’s about twelve years past due.”
“Twelve?” Now she sounded surprised, and maybe a little breathless.
Was that good or bad?
“Well, fourteen to be exact, but we would’ve had to go on horseback since I didn’t have my license when I was fifteen.”
“We went riding together a lot, even then. But I never got the impression that you considered it a date.”
“Reality and wishes were completely different things.” Nate grimaced and stifled a groan.
Lame
.
When she didn’t respond, Nate tried to think of something to say, but his brain had turned to mush. She finally spoke, her voice soft and a little wistful. “I’ve always thought you only wanted to be friends. I assumed you weren’t attracted to me.”
“It went from friendship to the biggest crush ever the day Sunflower threw me in the water tank and you waded in to keep me company.”
“Oh, I remember that!” She didn’t sound nearly as nervous now. “I was so scared you were hurt, but you sat up and grinned like it was something that happened every day.”
Nate chuckled and relaxed a little. “I was hurting too much to move.”