Jenna's Cowboy Hero

Adam had bristled when Will first told him that a few months back. Now the knowledge had settled and he sometimes thought about why his manager would think he needed prayer.

“If this is it, I’m here. And I’m…”

“Watch it, Adam.” Will’s endless warning.

“Fine, I’m here. It’s paradise. Two hundred acres of overgrown brush, a drive with more ruts and ditches than you can imagine and my living quarters are a trailer.”

“It could be worse.”

“So you always say. Is that a verse in the Bible? I can’t remember.”

Will laughed. “Close. The verse says more about not worrying about today’s troubles, tomorrow’s are sufficient in themselves.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Can’t you think of something more optimistic?”

“Has it been so long since you’ve been to church?”

“Your kid’s dedication when she was born.”

“She has a name.”

“Yeah, she does. Kate, right?”

“You’re close. It’s Kaitlin.”

“See, I’m not so shallow and self-centered.”

“I never thought you were. So, about the camp…”

“I’m going to contact a Realtor.”

“No, you’re not. Adam, you can’t ditch that place.”

Adam glanced in the direction of the cowgirl and her two kids. They were tossing a stick for the dog and she was pretending not to listen. He could tell she was.

“Why am I not selling?” He lowered his voice and turned away.

“Because you need this patch on your reputation. You need to stay and see this through. You need to be the good guy.”

“My reputation isn’t bad enough for this to be the punishment.”

“Look, Adam, let’s not beat around the bush. You have money in your account, a nice house in Atlanta and a shot at being a national anchor for one of the biggest sports networks in the world. Don’t mess it up.”

Adam walked up the steps to the covered porch on the front of the mobile home. He peeked in the front door, impressed by the interior and the leather furniture his cousin had bought with his money.

“Adam?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Is this compliance?” Will sounded far too amused and then he chuckled, as if to prove it. “Stay there. Clean the place up and make it a camp for underprivileged kids. Show the world what a good guy you are.”

“I’m not a good guy, I’m self-centered and macho. I’m a ladies’ man. I worked hard on that reputation and now you want me to change it?”

“I didn’t ask for the other reputation, it’s the one you showed up with. This is what I’m asking for. That you stay for the summer, show the world the real you, and be nice to the neighbor.”

Adam glanced in her direction, blue jeans and a T-shirt, two little boys. “How do you know about her?”

“Billy told me she’s a sweet girl.”

“You talked to Billy?”

“He called to ask a few questions, just advice on the property.”

“I don’t like this. You do realize, don’t you, that I’ll have to live in this trailer and eat at a diner in Dawson called The Mad Cow?”

Will laughed and Adam smiled, but he had no intentions of staying here. He’d find a way to get out of it. He pushed his hat down on his head and walked off the porch, still holding the phone.

“Billy said the chicken-fried steak was to die for.” Will the optimist.

“Billy died of a heart attack. Talk to you later.”

Jenna picked her way across the overgrown lawn. Adam Mackenzie stood next to the porch, staring at the barn and the dorm. He looked a little lost and kind of angry. Angry didn’t bother her. Neither did tantrums—she had the twins.

“Bad news?” She stopped next to him and looked up, studying his face.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” He tore off a piece of fescue grass and stuck it between his teeth. “My agent thinks I should stay. This sure wasn’t where I wanted to spend my summer.”

“Really?” She looked out at land that, with a little care, could be a premium piece of property. And she thought of the kids, the ones who were so much like herself, who could come here for a week or two and forget the abuse or poverty at home. Couldn’t he see that? “It looks like a great place to me.”

“What do you see that I don’t?”

“Promise. I see kids finding a little hope and maybe the promise of a better future. I see kids escaping for a week and just being kids.”

He groaned and tossed the grass aside. “Another optimist.”

“I call it faith.”

“So does Will.” Adam had turned back to the steps that led up the porch. “But how does faith help me solve this problem? Does faith clean this place up, or finish it so that it can be used?”

“Prayer might be the place to start.”

“Right.”

She followed him up the steps, right leg always first. It was getting easier every day. Ten months ago she had wondered if anything would ever be easy again. Adam turned when he reached the top and gave her a questioning look she ignored.

“I’m sorry, it really isn’t my business.” She answered his question, pretending the look was about that, about him wanting an answer. “I just happen to believe that God can get us out of some amazingly bad situations.”

“Well let’s see if God can help us get into this trailer.”