The Rancher's Answered Prayer

“In Oklahoma,” Wyatt said, his voice low and growling, “mineral rights are separate from property rights. But nothing was ever said to me about the house not being part of our bequest.”

Jake threw up his hands. “That’s just swell.”

Ignoring him, Wyatt demanded of Tina, “And just when did Daddy Dodd send you that paper leaving you his house and mineral rights?”

Ignoring the lump of fear that had risen in her throat—if Daddy Dodd had written a later will without telling her—Tina calmly answered, “Over two years ago, right after my divorce.”

Wyatt scowled, but whether it was due to the timeline, the fact that she was divorced or the paper in her possession, Tina couldn’t say. Not that it mattered. She had come home, and she had no intention of leaving. She couldn’t. She had no other safe place to go.

“Now, why would Dodd leave you the house and mineral rights?” Jake wanted to know.

“Because he knew I love it here,” Tina replied, sweeping aside a stray hair on her forehead. “I didn’t want to leave when he and my mom split up, and I came to visit as often as I could.”

Wyatt’s dark eyes held hers. “You were how old when they split?”

“Almost sixteen.”

“And that was how long ago?” Jake demanded. Grimacing, he added, “Sorry, you just don’t look old enough to be the only stepdaughter I ever knew Uncle Dodd to have.”

“Well, I am old enough,” she retorted firmly. “I’m twenty-nine.”

“So, thirteen years ago,” Wyatt muttered. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Wait a minute... You’re Walker.”

Tina couldn’t help chuckling. “That’s right. He called me Walker because my mother called me Tiny instead of Tina, and I had some issues with that nickname. He was the only person in the world to call me by my last name.”

Wyatt finally put it together. “Your mother was Gina Walker.”

“Correct.” Though technically it was Gina Schultz Walker Haldon Smith Murray Becker. Gina hadn’t believed in dropping the surnames of her husbands; she’d just added to them.

“That’s you in the photos in the foyer,” Wyatt deduced.

Tina grimaced. She’d been a tubby teenager, self-conscious about her shape, and her overbearing mother had called her Tiny in a futile effort to get Tina to slim down. When she looked in the mirror now, Tina still saw an overweight woman, but at least she knew how to dress for her figure these days.

“I think one of Tyler’s baby pictures is hanging there, too,” she said in a half-hearted attempt to change the subject. “At least that’s where Dodd said he was going to hang it last time we were here.”

“And when was that exactly?” Wyatt asked, sounding tired suddenly.

“Tyler was maybe eight months old, so about five-and-a-half years ago. Maybe a month or two longer. I think it was June.” She thought a moment. “Yes, it was June. I was hoping to stay through the Fourth of July, but...”

She flashed back to the sound of the telephone ringing in the middle of the night. Her husband, Layne, had raged that she’d abandoned him when he’d needed her most and demanded that she return home. She’d stupidly gathered up her sleeping baby and hit the road, only to find that the emergency he’d referred to was nothing more than a lost commission. As his wife, accepting blame for everything that went wrong in his life had been her primary role, but at the time she’d still believed that if she was just patient and long-suffering enough, Layne would magically morph into the steady, loving husband and father she’d imagined he would be when she’d married him.

Pushing aside the unwanted memories, Tina cleared her throat. “Things were in better shape the last time I was here.”

Wyatt shook his head grimly. “Wait’ll we check the roof and plumbing, not to mention the electricity.”

Fear tightened into a lump in Tina’s stomach. The electricity had been downright scary the last time she was here, so she had no doubt that the wiring needed upgrading, but she refused to be daunted. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll set things to right.” Somehow.

“You sound awfully sure of that,” he said, “even though I stand here with a will that leaves me and my brothers everything.”

She gave him her steeliest glare. “Oh, I am sure. One man has already taken me for everything I owned, and I’ll never let that happen again.”

Chapter Two (#u3103c487-f866-52c4-b88c-c2e5e984aaaf)

Well, this is a fine mess.

Wyatt looked at the two papers in his hands, but no matter how long he stared, nothing changed. Both were dated identically and drawn up by the same attorney, Rex Billings. Sighing, Wyatt dropped the papers to the table in the Billings’ ranch house kitchen and rubbed a hand across his brow. What had Uncle Dodd been thinking? And how could the lawyer let him do this? Wyatt’s stomach roiled.

Dodd had mentioned Walker over the years, even though his marriage to her mother hadn’t lasted long, but Tina Walker hadn’t meant anything to Wyatt, so he’d tuned out the old man whenever he’d started waxing eloquent about the girl. Obviously, he should have paid better attention.

That was in the past, however, and Wyatt had known the only way to settle the current dilemma was to talk to the attorney who had apparently drawn up these ridiculous papers. Using his cell phone, he’d called the number on the will and reached one Callie Billings, the wife of attorney and rancher Rex Billings. Now he and Tina Kemp sat in their warm, homey kitchen sipping coffee and ignoring each other. Callie, as she’d insisted they call her, was a pretty little blonde with a baby boy and a daughter about Frankie’s age playing quietly on the floor. Callie moved about the kitchen with her son perched on her hip, pouring coffee and removing cookies from the oven with one hand.

“Rex should be here any minute,” she said, shifting the baby to the other hip. The front door opened, and Callie smiled brightly.

They heard two thumps, followed by silence. A few seconds later, the swinging door between the dining room and kitchen opened, and a tall, dusty cowboy padded into the space on his stocking feet. The little girl on the floor jumped up and ran to greet him, throwing her arms around his thighs.

“Hello, darlin’.” While Callie went to him, baby and all, he explained the situation. “My boots were filthy so I yanked them off. Now I need to wash my hands.” Holding his hands away from them, he kissed the baby, then his wife.

Wyatt couldn’t help but feel envious. He’d expected to be married and settled into family life by now himself, but somehow it just hadn’t happened. Billings hurried to the sink to wash his hands. Finally, he turned back to the table.

“You must be Wyatt Smith.”

Wyatt stood and put out his hand. “That’s right. Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.”

Shaking hands with Wyatt, Billings glanced at Tina and nodded. He looked to his wife then. “Honey, I’ve been dreaming about your coffee and cookies. Set me up.” He sat down at the table. His daughter crawled up into his lap.

“Daddy, can I hab cookies?”

“Have cookies. What does Mama say?”

“Ask you.”

“Then you can have one cookie.”

“Yay!”

Callie had the cookie wrapped in a napkin by the time Billings set the girl on her feet.

“Sit on your blanket and eat,” Callie instructed gently, as she poured another cup of coffee.

“We were sure sorry to hear about Dodd’s passing,” Billings began as Callie set the coffee in front of him.

“Thank you,” Wyatt and Tina said at the same time.

Wyatt frowned at her. She spoke as if she were Dodd’s next of kin. Then again, Dodd had spoken fondly of her over the years, though if he’d told his nephews nearly as much about her as he had apparently told her about them, they hadn’t been paying attention.

“I was sorry that Dodd left instructions not to have a service,” Billings went on, lifting his coffee cup. “It would have been well attended. He was much liked around War Bonnet.”

“I appreciate you saying so,” Wyatt told the other man, cutting a glance at Tina, who nodded and pressed her lips together as Callie placed a platter of cookies and three small plates in front of them.