The Cowboy's Easter Family Wish

Maddie looked so concerned that he hurried to remind her that he and his parents had once lived in Tucson.

“I’m glad you came back, Jesse.”

“So am I.” He walked toward his truck and was about to climb in when her quiet call stopped him.

“Jesse?”

“Yes?” He paused and peered toward her slim figure, saw her hands grip the balustrade as she tilted forward.

“Thank you very much.” The soft words brimmed with intensity.

He waved, then got into his truck and drove away, wondering why he knew that quiet expression of gratitude came from her heart.

Maddie McGregor was a puzzle. She seemed young and innocent, and yet was apparently the product of a miserable childhood and a wretched marriage. Gutsy but somehow vulnerable. Nightshade and sunshine. She had a home taken straight from the pages of a magazine, but apart from a couple of quilts tossed over the sofa, it looked too neat to be truly lived in. In fact, aside from her quilts, there wasn’t much in that house that said anything about Maddie McGregor.

That whimsical butterfly, however, said a lot. And that intrigued him.

When Gran came home Jesse intended to spend an evening plying her with questions about his new friend.

But as he lay in his tent, he had to remind himself to stop thinking about sweet Maddie McGregor.

You can’t get involved. Nobody else gets hurt, remember?

Chapter Three (#ulink_38453f95-6ef3-506a-a136-727a74228592)

“Jesse.” Tanner Johns shook his hand heartily. “You’re Maddie’s friend.”

Relief suffused Jesse. After the fiasco in his Colorado church there hadn’t been many who’d wanted to call him friend.

“And you’re Emma’s grandson.” Tanner grinned. “Welcome to Wranglers Ranch.”

“Thanks.” A little taken aback by the warmth of his greeting, Jesse figured the cowboy must not know about his past. Tanner’s next words disproved that.

“I was really sorry to hear about the death of that boy in your youth group.” His voice dropped. “It’s so hard to know what goes on inside a kid’s head. Thank God He knows.”

“Yeah.” Jesse gulped. He knew, so why didn’t He stop Scott?

“So you’re taking a break from your ministry.” Obviously unaware of Jesse’s revolving faith questions, Tanner tilted back on his boot heels, his voice thoughtful. “Sometimes it’s good to reassess if you’re where God wants you.”

“I guess Gran told you—” He stopped because Tanner was shaking his head.

“When it comes to kids’ work I keep my ear to the ground so I can pray for all of us who are working with these precious souls.” He grinned. “A friend of mine told me about your program in Colorado. Said you did amazing work. When he heard you’d resigned, he emailed me, ordered me to offer you a job if you happened by the area to visit Emma.”

“That’s kind of him,” Jesse murmured.

“He’s a man I trust, but he’s not the only one singing your praises. Your grandmother has lots of stories about you, too. One day I’d like to see all those rodeo trophies you’ve collected, cowboy.” Tanner chuckled at his grimace. “Okay, I’ll drop it. Don’t want to make you blush.”

“Thanks,” Jesse said with relief.

“Come on. I’ll show you around.” As they walked, Tanner explained that the focus of Wranglers was to reach kids through acceptance. “The man who owned this ranch, Burt, led me to God here, and many after me. His dream was for Wranglers Ranch to become a sanctuary, a kind of camp for kids. When he passed away he left this spread to me to make his dream come true. I started working with street kids because I was one once and I knew the impact this place could have. God’s kind of expanded my puny efforts. Now we host church groups, kids from social agencies, kids involved with the justice system, kids who just stop by to see what’s going on and sick kids, to name a few.”

“Wow.” Jesse was awed by such an expansive ministry.

“We use equine-assisted learning programs,” Tanner explained. “We try hard to reach every kid for God, but, like you, we do lose some. Not every kid who comes to Wranglers Ranch is ready or willing to turn his life around.”

“All we can do is shed some light on the path,” Jesse agreed. “They have to choose it.”

“That’s why my friend was so impressed with your work. He said you made sure your kids understood what making the choice to be a child of God entails.” Tanner then pointed out the horses in the paddocks, the land that stretched to the Catalina Mountains and the hands whom he credited for keeping his ranch functioning. “Wranglers Ranch is all about spreading the love of God. We use every resource we have to do that.”

That simple explanation of such a far-reaching ministry sent Jesse’s admiration for this man soaring and upped his desire to be part of it, a small part, anyway. But how to do it without getting personally involved?

“My friend said you have your degree in counseling.” Tanner lifted one eyebrow.

“I went to college before I attended seminary,” Jesse said.

“Actually, you started college on the expedited track when you were fourteen,” Tanner corrected, a smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. “And left several years later with your master’s degree in counseling.”

“Yeah, I was kind of a misfit.” It seemed Tanner had collected a lot of information about him, but Jesse wasn’t going to add to it. It had taken forever to shed the geek label he’d carried in those days. He sure didn’t want it back now.

“I’m not asking because I want you to do any counseling, Jesse.” Tanner’s quiet voice belied his probing look. “That’s not what we do here.”

“Then...?” He was mystified as to what his job might be.

“No counseling, but I sure wouldn’t mind having someone with your credentials on-site.” Tanner tilted his head to one side. “You’re what—twenty-seven?”

Jesse nodded.

“You have education and life experience. You’ve worked with kids a lot so you have an advantage in spotting the kid who’s good at hiding his feelings but desperately needs an outlet. You’re probably more able than any of us here to spot the kid who’s walking a tightrope of despair. That’s what I want at Wranglers Ranch,” Tanner said thoughtfully. “We need someone who’ll catch the kid we’ve missed or the one whose needs haven’t been properly addressed.”

“I didn’t manage that so well in Colorado,” Jesse admitted, the shame of it rushing up inside.

“You didn’t see your youth group kids’ struggles?” Tanner’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“Yes, of course, but—”

“You didn’t go out of your way to talk to each of them privately, take them for coffee, spend extra time praying for them?” Tanner’s probing was relentless. “Come on, Jesse. Tell me you didn’t do everything you could to help each one of them.”

“Yes, I did.” Guilt ate like acid inside him. “But in the end it didn’t make any difference, because I failed to save Scott.”

“How do you know you didn’t make any difference?” Tanner touched his shoulder, his voice quiet. “But whether you did or didn’t isn’t the point. We’re called to show God’s love. He takes it from there.”

“I guess.” Yet no matter how many months had passed, Jesse still couldn’t wrap his mind around why it had happened.

“If you’re still interested, here’s the job. Work as a ranch hand. Offer as much love and caring as you can to every kid that comes to Wranglers Ranch, while keeping your eyes peeled for problems. If you find something that needs changing, you tell me.” Tanner studied him, waiting.

“I see.” Could he do this and still remain detached? Jesse wondered.

“At Wranglers we don’t counsel anyone,” Tanner enunciated. “Our job is first and foremost to befriend every kid who comes here, to make them feel this is a safe place and that we’re here to help. Together we try to reach every child who shows up.”