The Rancher's Family Wish by Lois Richer Page B

asking for a medical assessment on each abused horse we take in. It’s time-consuming, expensive and hard on the horse to transport, and that’s not even mentioning the difficulty of getting in to see a vet in the city. Most don’t want to come way out here.”
    “Great idea,” she said. His gaze shifted to something distant, something she couldn’t see. “What else?”
    “I’d like to build some cabins,” Tanner said. “So we could have overnighters.”
    “Won’t that bring additional problems? I mean, sometimes street kids have issues.” She frowned, dubious about the idea.
    “The whole idea of Burt’s camp is to help kids with issues. Everyone has issues, Sophie.” He studied her for a moment, then spoke in a quiet, husky tone. “Or maybe I’m just trying to recapture my childhood.”
    “How so?” Curiosity about his past ballooned.
    “When I was ten, I went to summer camp.” His voice altered, his joy obvious in his sparkling smile. “It was the one and only time. I’ve never forgotten the experience because for a while, for one short week, it was okay just to be myself, a kid, and to have fun.”
    A lump filled Sophie’s throat.
    “Six of us stayed in a ramshackle leaky cabin with a counselor. It was a dump but I thought it was paradise. I could let myself sleep at night because the counselor was there protecting us.” A quirky smile lifted Tanner’s lips.
    Sophie’s heart gave a bump at the sudden rush of attraction that surged inside her. The cut on his cheek she’d seen the day they’d met had almost completely disappeared. She thought perhaps making Burt’s dream live was helping Tanner heal in many ways.
    “The best part wasn’t the sleeping, though,” he continued. “The best part came just before sleep. Everyone was in bed. The cabin was dark and quiet. That’s when the counselor would talk to us. Not preachy stuff, just telling us we were loved, encouraging us not to ever give up on our dreams. He’d urge us to resist the bad stuff we encountered, make us feel hopeful about our future. It was the first time I can ever remember feeling safe.”
    He hadn’t felt safe until he was ten—almost Davy’s age. Sophie’s mother’s heart ached for that young boy who’d been so alone.
    “I’ve hung on to those moments through some pretty tough times in my life.” Tanner smiled at her. “Those feelings—hope and safety—that’s what I want Wranglers to give kids. I want this place to show God to kids so they’ll yearn to know Him because He’s the answer to every seeking heart.”
    “I think you’ll do it, Tanner.” How could she not support a dream like his? “There’s a lot of space on this ranch and plenty of little groves where cabins wouldn’t have to stick out.”
    “I’m praying for someone, an architect maybe, to show me how to do that, but I need a lot of things in place before building cabins can happen.” He shrugged. “Like maybe—clients?”
    “They’ll come.” Somehow Sophie was certain of that. Tanner was the kind of man who reached for his dream and got it. Not the kind of selfish dreams Marty had chased; not for an easy way to make his own world better. Tanner’s dreams had a plan and a spiritual grounding. They were for others, not to benefit himself.
    Sophie liked the rancher’s selflessness. Liked it a lot. Too much for a woman who was never going to let her heart feel anything again.
    * * *
    “Sophie, I really appreciate you doing this on such last-minute notice.” Tanner stood in the doorway of Wranglers’ kitchen several days later stunned by the number of food trays covering every possible surface. “How did you manage to produce so much so fast?”
    “I always keep frozen stock.” She looked lovely even with a dab of flour on one cheek.
    “Pastor Jeff didn’t tell me much, only that something had happened to the couple’s venue and they were forced to cancel their wedding,” he explained. “Apparently they’ve waited a