Lynnette Kent - A Wife in Wyoming

“Yeah, what are the arguments?” Garrett said. “I’m seeing only good things—the chance to help some kids to lead better lives and bring in extra hands for all the work around here. Where’s the downside?”

Ford went through his objections yet again. “The legal liability is a big problem. If one of those kids gets hurt—the way you are, for instance, and you’ve been riding practically you’re whole life—then I don’t care what form the parents have signed, they’re going to come at us with a costly lawsuit.”

“Spoken like a true legal eagle.” Garrett had moved into his usual defensive position, sitting forward in the chair with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands gripped together. “Not everybody is so sue-crazy.”

Relaxed in the recliner, Ford kept his hands loose, his expression neutral. “Both you and Caroline have mentioned that these kids come from families with financial problems. Wave a hundred thousand dollars in their faces and see what kind of crazy they become.”

“I say it’s worth the risk.”

“You’re an optimist. I’m a realist, and it’s my job to protect our investments.”

“Since you’re the one with the big salary. Got it.”

“Since,” Ford fired back, “I never again want to wonder whether we have to go to bed hungry because we don’t have the money to buy food.”

Wyatt flinched. Garrett looked down at his hands.

“Not a problem these days,” the boss said in a quiet tone. “We’re all adults. We can all work. Most of the time, anyway,” he added.

A few moments of silence allowed the air to clear. “In my opinion, the setup is too ambitious,” Ford said, finally, calmly. “A few hours a day for a week, maybe. But to have the kids living out here, making us responsible for them 24/7, is asking too much of us and them. When are we supposed to get actual ranch work done? What if a kid smuggles drugs onto the ranch? Or raids the liquor cabinet? If one of them runs away, we are responsible. With males and females in the group, it’s even possible a girl might get pregnant. Do we want that culpability?”

All three of his brothers winced. “That seems unlikely,” Garrett said. But he sounded less sure.

After a minute of silence, Wyatt pushed himself out of the rocking chair. “I’m going outside for a while to think. No, I don’t need supervision,” he said, as Ford looked at him in question. “I can manage on my own. I’m gonna walk to the corral, talk to the horses. They make more sense than you three, anyway.”

Ford watched through the window to be sure his brother got down the porch steps. Then he turned back to Garrett. “If you’re supporting this plan because...because you’ve got a thing for Caroline, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get in your way. But—”

“She’s something special, that’s for sure.” Garrett got to his feet. “But I’m on board because it’s a chance to do something good for kids who need a break. I’m just sorry you don’t agree.” He headed for his bedroom, the signs of his hurt feelings easy to read.

“Touchy, touchy.” Dylan stretched his arms before flopping down full-length on the couch. “I’m gonna snooze till the boss shows up again. Maybe by then it’ll be dinnertime, and somebody will have cooked something.”

Ford eased back in the recliner to nap a little himself. “You ever think maybe you could do the cooking?”

“Nope.”

“Just wondering.”

He did manage to close his eyes for thirty minutes or so. Then, between feeding the horses and Honey and helping Garrett with the spaghetti dinner he’d decided on, supper was on the table before they all got together again. Even so, they had to drag Dylan off the sofa to wake him up.

Fortunately, he was never grumpy when pulled out of sleep. “Looks good,” he commented, sitting down in the dining room. “How come we only eat like this when Ford comes home?”

“Because he does most of the cooking.” Garrett passed the big bowl of pasta to Wyatt. “So what’s the answer, Boss? Did you come to a conclusion about Caroline’s project?”

In his deliberate way, the oldest Marshall served his plate before answering. “Let’s say grace,” he suggested, and they all bowed their heads while Garrett gave thanks.

As they took their first bites, Wyatt said, “Henry MacPherson took me on, a teenager with no ranch experience, and taught me what I needed to know. He paid the wages that, for better or worse, kept us alive those first couple of years.”

The glance he sent Ford recalled his earlier comment about going to bed hungry. “In time, he paid all four of us to work on the Circle M. He brought us here to live with him, and he left us the land for our own. He pretty much saved our lives.”

Looking around the table, Wyatt held each of their gazes with his own. “I say we owe it to Henry to pass the favor on.”

“Yes!” Garrett pumped his fist in the air.

Ford glanced at Dylan, commiserating in silence.

In case anybody had a question, the boss made his decision clear. “We are going to do everything we can to give those teenagers a summer they won’t forget.”

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