Rancher For The Holidays (Love Inspired) (10 page)

“Be sure you tell the doctor about it next time he’s here.” Marley glanced around at the mothers and children who’d come out to greet the team. “Where’s your daughter? I’m dying to meet your new grandson.”

Conchita’s round face beamed with pride. “Rosalinda is in
la casa
. It’s feeding time for our
niño
. Miguelito is a healthy, growing boy!” She nudged Marley toward the shade of a blue tarp, where a few of the women tended steaming pans and kettles over outdoor grills. “Lunch is ready. We will eat as soon as your people finish.”

“Smells wonderful!” Marley rested a hand on her growling stomach. “I’ve been telling our new volunteers how good your tamales are.”

Conchita lifted a pot lid, stirred some beans and sampled a taste. She nodded her satisfaction. “This one is not so spicy.” She winked. “For you
gringos
.”

Just then, Ben ambled over. “Don’t hold back the jalapeños on my account.”

Marley laughed. “Conchita Montero, meet Ben Fisher. Ben is Steve and Jane Whitlow’s nephew from Houston, and I hear he likes his Mexican food extra-spicy.”

“My pleasure, Mrs. Montero.” Ben pushed back his ball cap. “You must be Lucas’s mother. We were glad to have his help with the trail ride last month.”

The woman beamed. “So he has told me. You will see him again at the end of your visit.”

“So Rosalinda Cortez is your daughter, right? My aunt sent something for the new baby.”

Marley smiled to herself. She’d been concerned about Ben’s awkwardness around people so far removed from his sphere of experience, but if he felt any discomfort, he showed no outward signs. On the other hand, as a businessman with strong PR skills, Ben seemed able to converse with anyone.

Unless the subject had to do with faith. Marley’s prayers over this mission trip had included more than a few on Ben’s behalf.

Noticing Chris, Ernie and the Tech students striding over from the storage shed, Marley turned to Conchita. “Looks like the hungry hordes are ready for lunch.”

“Save me a seat,” Ben said with a quick tug on Marley’s ponytail. “I’ll run and get the gift for Rosalinda.”

Conchita chuckled softly, winking as she handed Marley a plate and utensils. “Your new boyfriend is very handsome.”

“Oh, no, we’re just friends.” With a self-conscious smile, Marley held out her plate while a young woman served her huge helpings of rice, beans and tamales.

“Don’t fool yourself. He has eyes only for you,
mija
.”

Marley refused to acknowledge the flutter in her chest. She grabbed a cup of iced tea and found a place at the end of a long wooden picnic table. If she couldn’t get her growing feelings for Ben under control, the visit to Candelaria she’d so looked forward to might turn out to be the longest four days of her life.

* * *

With the gift from Aunt Jane tucked under his arm, Ben jogged back to the food tent. He glanced around for Mrs. Montero, but when he didn’t find her right away, he accepted a plate of food. The day was mild and sunny with a slight breeze, perfect for dining al fresco. Ben scanned the picnic area looking for Marley. When he saw she was surrounded by several of the local women and children, he plopped down in the only empty spot, next to Ernie Coutu.

Ernie spooned rice and beans into a corn tortilla and folded it burrito-style. “Best part of coming down here is the food. Hot and spicy, just the way I like it.”

“Sure smells good.” Ben peeled the corn husk off a tamale and sliced off a bite with the edge of his fork. When he sampled the savory shredded pork wrapped in cornmeal, his taste buds shimmied with delight. “Wow.”

“What’d I tell you? Better than the best Tex-Mex restaurants Alpine has to offer.”

Better than anything Ben had tasted in Houston, as well. He finished off his meal and went back for seconds. He would have taken thirds but decided not to be greedy. Anyway, he wasn’t about to get in the way of the Texas Tech boys. A couple of them were built like linebackers, and they didn’t look willing to share.

After helping to clear tables, Ben spotted Marley as she started across the road with Mrs. Montero. He called her name and hurried to catch up, squinting against the bright afternoon glare. “I’ve still got this package from Aunt Jane and didn’t want Mrs. Montero to get away.”

“Ah,
bueno
.” The older woman gestured toward the small frame house in front of them. “Rosalinda is inside. We are coming to see the baby. You will come, too?”

“Uh, sure.” Ben followed the ladies up the cracked concrete steps and into a neatly furnished living room.

A young mother sat rocking her baby and crooning a lilting Spanish lullaby. She beamed a smile as they entered. “Hi, Marley. Come meet Miguel.”

“He’s adorable!” Marley stepped closer and ruffled the baby’s thick, dark curls. “Rosalinda, this is my friend Ben. He brought something for you.”

Ben held out the gift. “It’s from my aunt.”

“
Gracias.
” Eyes wide, Rosalinda shifted her infant son into the crook of her arm so that both hands were free. She slid a thumbnail beneath the edge of the wrapping paper and carefully tore open the gift.

Ben immediately recognized the pale yellow baby blanket his aunt had been knitting when he’d first arrived in Alpine. Back then, he’d never expected to actually meet the young mother for whom the gift was intended.

“It’s beautiful, and so soft!” Marley fingered the scalloped edge. “Almost makes me wish I’d learned to knit.”

One hand on her daughter’s shoulder, Mrs. Montero glanced between Marley and Ben. A knowing smile creased her plump cheeks. “I think perhaps you are wishing for a family of your own.”

With a nervous laugh, Marley locked her arms across her chest and edged away from Rosalinda. “Someday, maybe.”

Feeling none too comfortable himself, Ben rolled the brim of his ball cap and angled one foot toward the door. “I should go see what everybody else is up to. Nice meeting you, ladies.”

“Tell Ernie and Pastor Chris I’ll be right there,” Marley said.

With a quick nod, Ben tugged his cap low over his eyes and escaped. Without thinking, he tugged out his cell phone to check for messages and email, but the No Service message mocked him. His stomach curdled with the sudden overwhelming sense of being utterly disconnected—not just from cell service, but from everything that mattered.

Chapter Ten

B
y Saturday evening, the outreach team had a good start on some of the odd jobs they’d planned to take care of for the Candelaria families. Pastor Chris had organized the team into four groups, placing Ben with the two linebacker types. Fortunately, they had a lot more handyman experience than he did, and the three of them had spent most of Saturday afternoon tearing down and completely rebuilding the dilapidated picket fence around Mrs. Montero’s vegetable garden.

In many ways, the work was even more labor-intensive than what Uncle Steve had Ben doing around the ranch. Ben’s muscles screamed from the effort, but he found unexpected satisfaction in wielding a posthole digger and swinging a hammer. He might even call the labor therapeutic, because it certainly left him little energy to ponder the confusing path his life had taken these past several weeks.

On Sunday morning, Pastor Chris led a worship service in the town’s little Catholic church. Ben hadn’t planned to attend, but Marley cornered him as he sipped coffee under a mesquite tree. She didn’t exactly drag him into the church, but the determined set of her mouth told him it would be easier to yield than to offer up excuses. He followed her through the heavy wooden doors of the white stucco building but resolutely resisted her nudge toward a front pew, choosing instead to sit near the doors so he could slip out quickly if the urge struck him.

He did duck out before the closing song, but he hadn’t missed a word of Pastor Chris’s message. The whole thing about not hiding your light under a bushel, being light and salt to the world, just like they were doing here in Candelaria. And then something from Jeremiah about God knowing His plans for His children.

That afternoon, as he pounded the last nail in a fence slat, he glanced up to see Mrs. Montero watching from her back porch. She waved him over.

“Yes, ma’am?” Ben wiped his grubby hands on his jeans as he walked over.

“This is the Lord’s day. Your work will wait.” The plump woman pointed to Ben’s arms. “And see? The sun is burning you.”

Mrs. Montero was right—the skin below his rolled-up sleeves was beginning to look more red than tan. He hadn’t given any thought to using sunscreen in December, apparently a mistake. He turned to the college boys still hard at work on the fence. “Let’s take a break and cool off in the RV for a couple of hours.”

The young men didn’t argue. Laying down their tools, they slogged across the road to where the RVs were parked, the windows cranked open to let the mild desert breezes flow through.

“Come into my kitchen and sit awhile.” Mrs. Montero held open her screen door.

Weighing the choice between Mrs. Montero’s company and an RV full of big, sweaty college jocks, Ben didn’t take long to make up his mind. He followed her inside, where she offered him a seat in a red vinyl dinette chair. One elbow propped on the table, he stretched out his legs while she brought two chilled sodas from the refrigerator.

Neither spoke for a few minutes, and Ben felt the awkwardness as he silently sipped his drink. Mrs. Montero seemed to be sizing him up, so he sat a little straighter and offered a hesitant smile. She nodded thoughtfully.

Ben cleared his throat. “I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.”

“Not at all. You make me very curious, however.”

“Me?”

“
Sí
. Many have come to Candelaria bringing help or things we need. You are...different.”

Avoiding her gaze, Ben set down his soft drink can and slowly twirled it on the tabletop. “I’m here to help just like everybody else.”

“You are a hard worker, it is true. But sometimes people come who are...” The woman massaged her forehead. “I think you would say
cynic
.”

Stung, Ben pursed his lips. “You doubt my motives for being here?”

“No, I think you are a good person. But I watched you in church this morning. Something troubles you. I think you are here not so much to help my town but to find yourself.” Mrs. Montero’s gaze softened, and she laid her callused brown hand upon Ben’s arm. “Maybe you will also find God.”

* * *

While the men handled some of the odd jobs the Candelaria families needed help with, Marley and the women from Texas Tech gathered several of the children together inside the church to make Christmas crafts and share a devotional.

“Miss Marley, come and see.” Eleven-year-old Isabella sat on the chancel step, where she worked on a watercolor painting of the Nativity.

Isabella, the same little girl from the school bus photo, held a special place in Marley’s heart. Marley kneeled and tugged on the girl’s long, thick braid. “Wow, that’s the most beautiful Christmas star I’ve ever seen!”

Isabella swirled her paintbrush in a cup of water. “I’m going to give this to Tío Lucas when he comes for the fiesta.”

Another child called Marley over to look at her drawing, and soon it was time to send the kids home. Marley and her helpers gathered up Bibles and art supplies, then headed over to the RV to make supper for the team.

As they finished cleaning up, Marley noticed the sun was at a perfect angle for sunset photography, so she stepped inside the women’s RV to retrieve her camera. She wandered down the road to where the pavement ended and found Ben seated on a rock and staring toward the western sky. Something about his pensive profile brought a catch to her throat. She lifted her camera and snapped a photo.

He must have heard the shutter. Glancing over his shoulder, he offered a crooked smile. “Collecting blackmail material?”

“Maybe. Workaholic caught enjoying the sunset—should be worth a grand or two.” Marley strolled up beside him, her gaze following his. “This is my favorite time of day. Did you ever see such amazing colors?”

“It is pretty amazing.” Ben scooted over to make room for her on his rock. When she sat down next to him, he added, “You’re pretty amazing, too.”

Warmth flooded her cheeks, in direct opposition to the coolness of the rock seeping through her jeans. She fiddled with a camera setting. “I’m just doing what I love.”

“It shows. You really know how to relate to these people. It’s equally obvious how much they care about you.”

“If they do, it’s only because I care about
them
.”

Ben grew silent, hands braced on his knees. He exhaled long and slow. “This afternoon Mrs. Montero called me a cynic.”

“Oh, Ben.” Sensing his turmoil, Marley almost reached for his hand but thought better of it and covered by brushing a strand of hair off her face. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to be hurtful.”

“No, but she made her point all the same.”

Hoping to lighten the mood, she gave him a friendly poke in the ribs. “So...you admit she has a point?”

He shot her a sidelong glance. “I’ve spent the last three months—more like the past couple of years, if I’m completely honest—being told by everyone I care about that I need an attitude adjustment. I’m not saying I disagree, but to be nailed by a perfect stranger? That was a bit disconcerting.”

Weighing her reply, Marley remembered a photo she’d taken a few weeks ago during her photography class. She set the camera on view mode and scrolled backward until she found the photo she searched for. She held it up for Ben to see. “Recognize this guy?”

He studied the picture, then chuckled. “That was a fun day.”

“Yep, not a cynical line on your face.” Marley smiled at the image of Ben posing for the kids. He’d struck a bodybuilder stance, looking tough and macho except for the clownish grin. “I like you best when you’re just being yourself, not—”

She bit the inside of her lip before she said more than she should.

Twisting to face her, Ben narrowed his gaze. “Finish what you were saying. I can take it.”

“I don’t have any right to criticize your life or your career ambitions.” Marley rose and strode a few steps away, pretending to focus in on a camera shot.

“But you clearly want to. You’ve been judging me ever since I first walked into your studio.” Hands thrust into his jacket pockets, Ben stood beside her. “I’ve never represented myself as anything other than who I am. If you can’t accept me, it’s your problem, not mine.”

His words stabbed deep, not so much at the realization of how she’d judged him, but because of the lie she herself was living. Would he still accept her if her past ever came to light?

The sinking sun crowned a distant ridge with an apricot glow, and Marley lifted her camera before she let the picture slip away. Seven shots later, she released a tired sigh and shut off the camera. “You’re right, I had some preconceived opinions about you. But then you came up with the trail-ride idea. You bent over backward to get our event publicized and make it a success. You followed me through nearly every store in town shopping for Christmas gifts. And now you’re here, pitching in like you’ve always been a part of the team. You’ve been...amazing.”

“Amazing?” Ben edged in front of Marley and ran his finger beneath the limp strands of hair that kept falling across her eyes. “Seems like a few minutes ago I used the same word to describe you.”

She shivered inwardly at his touch and took one giant step backward. “It’ll be dark soon. We’d better go back.”

“Marley.” Ben’s hand clamped down on her wrist, and she had no choice but to halt and look at him. But in the fading light his expression was unreadable. A full second passed before his fingers relaxed and he released her arm. “Yeah, you’re right. We’d better go back.”

* * *

Ben watched Marley walk away, and the ache in his belly became a gaping pit. Coming to Candelaria had been a mistake—a huge one. Bad enough the perceptive Mrs. Montero had pegged him so easily.

Worse, he couldn’t escape his growing feelings for Marley no matter how hard he tried to deny them.

He couldn’t say for sure when he first became aware of how much her opinion of him mattered. It might have been the day he’d run into her outside the department store and enlisted her help in picking out some less citified clothes. Or possibly when he saw the delight in her eyes after he suggested the trail ride.

Face it, Marley makes you want to be a better person than you know you are.

Raucous laughter met him as he approached the men’s RV. Probably a continuation of the sports trivia game the guys had started Saturday night. Not up to racking his brain for who won the 1963 Heisman Trophy or which teams competed in the 1994 Super Bowl, Ben declined Pastor Chris’s invitation to join the game and sidled down the narrow passageway to the bathroom. After scrubbing away the day’s sweat and grime, he climbed into his bunk.

Tired as he was, sleep didn’t come easy, and not just because of the noise from the other end of the RV. Sounds of hammers, saws and swishing paintbrushes echoed through his thoughts, along with images of Marley surrounded by laughing, dark-haired school children on their way into the little white church. Marley had found a calling, a cause that stretched and inspired her, and here he was still wobbling on the broken rungs of his career ladder.

He had an MBA, for crying out loud. It ought to be worth something besides occupying the top shelf of his bedroom closet back in Houston. Some days it felt as if he’d left his self-respect behind along with his diploma.

Maybe if he could come up with a long-term strategy to help this town Marley cared so much about, he could earn back a little of her admiration...and perhaps rebuild the confidence he’d lost along with his job. He fell asleep sometime after midnight with those thoughts running through his mind.

The next morning, when the aromas of sizzling sausage, peppers, tomatoes and onions roused him, an idea started percolating right along with the morning coffee. After he’d shaved in the tiny bathroom and donned a fresh set of work clothes for the day, Ben ambled into the kitchenette. Most of the men were already up and wolfing down breakfast. Ernie stood over a skillet of scrambled eggs and spooned them into the flour tortillas Pastor Chris held out for him.

“Just in time for breakfast burritos.” Chris handed Ben a plate. “These tortillas are fresh as they come. Mrs. Montero brought them over a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks. Smells great!” Ben grabbed a cup of coffee and wedged himself into the booth next to his two linebacker buddies.

Seconds later, the RV door flew open and five disgruntled women barged in, Marley in the lead. “Hey, you! Not fair! When were you planning on telling us breakfast was ready?”

“Uh, never.” Ernie spread his arms wide to keep Marley from grabbing the plate he’d just filled. “This is a man’s breakfast. Go back to your own trailer and eat your yogurt and granola.”

If not for their teasing grins, Ben might be worried they’d come to blows. Finally Ernie relented and handed Marley the plate, but not without an exaggerated show of annoyance. She passed it to one of the Tech girls, who carried it outside, where there was more room, and then waited for the next serving to be ready.

By the time the four college women had been served and Marley accepted a plate for herself, Ben had finished his breakfast. He refilled his coffee cup and followed Marley outside. When she settled into one of the folding camp chairs, Ben found an empty one and moved it next to hers.

Marley glanced his way with a tentative smile. “Too crowded in there for you?”

“Actually, I hoped we could talk.” Ben hesitated to bring up his ideas in front of the students. If Marley shot him down, he doubted what was left of his pride could handle the public humiliation.

Dropping her voice to a whisper, Marley began, “If this is about last night...”

“No. I mean, sort of.” Ben paused as two of the women finished eating and excused themselves. The other two sat far enough away that they couldn’t easily overhear. “My corporate background was an asset for publicizing the trail ride, right?”

Marley had just bitten into her burrito and had to chew and swallow before she replied. “Yes, of course it was. What are you getting at, Ben?”

Jaw clenched, he stared into his coffee cup. “What I’m trying to say is, as much as I can see the value in what your team is doing here, there’s got to be something more we can do, something that could give these people a real shot at a better life.”