Redeeming the Rancher Read online

  Alexis had seen it all before and it didn’t rattle her. This boy was far from the first to arrive at Redemption Ranch angry at the world and with a chip the size of Texas on his shoulder—though unless she found a way to make ends meet, he might be the last.

  From the files she’d received on each of the kids, she knew that the boy in black was Devon, an only child, and that he came from a tragic situation. His mother had passed away quite suddenly from cancer and he now lived with his strict, if wealthy and influential, father. From what Alexis could gather, the man did very little for his son, other than provide him with what money could buy. Kids needed so much more than possessions.

  Of course, she couldn’t be sure without meeting the man, but she had the sense that Devon’s father was one of the well-to-do parents who were only too happy to pay to have their child attend the ranch instead of having to perform community service, with or without the attitude adjustment Redemption Ranch offered, not because they wanted what was best for their kid but because they wanted to maintain their own public image. It was easy to make up excuses as to why their kid disappeared for a month, far simpler than taking the chance of someone influential seeing their teenager in an orange vest picking up trash along the side of the highway. The parents’ motivations sometimes saddened Alexis, but whatever reasons brought the teens to the ranch, the point was that they were now in a place where they’d finally have people who truly wanted to help and understand them.

  That’s where Alexis came in. As she’d done with so many boys before him, she had every intention of showering Devon with genuine love and affection and seeing if she could break through the thick barriers he’d constructed around himself.

  Behind the kids came two counselors in their early twenties wearing patient, determined looks on their faces. Marcus Ender, the male counselor, immediately spotted Griff sitting at the head of the table and moved to greet him. Tessa Applewhite, the female counselor, grinned and winked at Alexis.

  “And the fun begins,” Tessa quipped under her breath as she passed.

  Alexis chuckled and nodded in agreement, though she wasn’t feeling the excitement and enthusiasm she usually did. Wrangling troubled teenagers actually was her idea of fun, and she usually enjoyed the first night’s dinner and getting to know her new crop of kids. She was used to the teenagers posturing and giving her guff and didn’t let it bother her.

  It was Griff’s attitude that was ruining it for her. Something about his peculiar reaction to the scenario set her on edge. His very presence at her table changed the equation in a way she couldn’t comprehend.

  She didn’t need the extra stress right now. She hadn’t even had the opportunity to explain the ministry she performed here at Redemption Ranch, and yet it appeared Griff had already come to his own conclusions about the project—and not very good ones, at that. He sat straight-backed on the edge of his chair as if he had a pike in his spine, and the expression on his face was nothing short of a grimace.

  What was rattling him?

  It wasn’t as if the teenagers were going to bite him. Sure, the kids could get a little rowdy at times, but she’d never allow it escalate to the point of jumping on the table yodeling like Tarzan and beating their chests, for pity’s sake.

  If Griff didn’t like teenagers, he was staying at the wrong ranch. If that was his problem, it would be better for everyone concerned if he figured that out now, she supposed. Should he need to look elsewhere for accommodation, now would be the time.

  Vivian’s meddling seemed to be creating a great deal more problems than it was solving. Naturally her sister wasn’t even in town while all this was transpiring. No, she’d left it up to Alexis.

  “Thanks for nothing, Viv,” Alexis grumbled under her breath before addressing her erstwhile visitor. “Griff, this is Marcus and Tessa, the teens’ counselors. Marcus, Tessa, this is my houseguest, and a friend of Vivian’s, Griffin Haddon.”

  “Houseguest being a relative term,” he muttered with a nod to the counselors.

  Tessa giggled and shot Alexis an inquiring glance.

  “Meaning he’s bunking with the wranglers,” she offered with a wry twist to her lips. At this point, the man should count himself fortunate that she hadn’t tossed him out on his ear. The idea was becoming more and more appealing by the moment.

  “Not family, then.” Tessa sounded a little bit disappointed, though Alexis couldn’t fathom why it mattered whether or not she and Griff were related.

  She shifted a speculative gaze to her houseguest, who was studiously avoiding looking at anyone, most especially Tessa. His face appeared heated and he was fidgeting with his hands, pulling at the collar of his

  T-shirt with the tip of his index finger.

  Then suddenly it hit her.

  Oh. How had she missed something that obvious? Alexis was usually right on top of emotional interchanges—especially potentially romantic ones. She was losing her touch if she couldn’t see what was happening here.

  Tessa was sizing Griff up as a dating prospect. Well, at least that explained why she was interested in the relational status between Griff and Alexis. If Griff was family, then Alexis wasn’t potential competition. Tessa was simply trying to make sure she wasn’t treading on Alexis’s turf.

  She snorted softly. Of course Tessa wasn’t. If she was interested in Griff then she was welcome to him. Griff was an attractive man, if a lady was interested in well-to-do city guys. Griff was exactly the kind of man Vivian would go for, but he wasn’t the type of guy that would cause Alexis’s heart to hum.

  Nope. She’d never be interested in a man like Griff Haddon, and it appeared he was likewise not concerned—with anyone or anything. He certainly wasn’t making any effort to be charming toward Tessa, or even all that polite. His posture was as rigid and solid as a brick wall. If it was possible, he stiffened even further when the teenagers gathered around the table and started taking their seats.

  Whatever.

  Alexis was done with trying to deal with Griff’s problems, never mind trying to figure out his sudden shift in attitude. She was beginning to be sorry she’d even invited him to be part of the dinner, if he was going to act like a jerk about it. She had enough emotions spiraling off the temperamental teenagers who were essentially being forced into a shocking new environment without adding a sulking man to the mix.

  Griff was getting in the way of her joy, but she realized that could only happen if she let it—and she wasn’t going to let it happen.

  “Please be seated, everyone,” she announced, moving to the head of the table, which had the unfortunate consequence of placing her directly opposite Griff. She astutely avoided his gaze, choosing instead to capture the teenagers’ lax attention with a wave of her arms. She silently rehearsed the teens’ names, putting each name with a face. Connor, Josh, Devon, Saralyn, Hailey and Destiny.

  Her kids.

  “If we could all please join hands, I’d like to thank the Lord for bringing us all together,” she announced. The two counselors already had their hands held out palms up, anticipating her request, but seven pairs of eyes stared back at her as if she’d just grown antlers—Griff’s the most startled of the bunch.

  Alexis lifted an eyebrow and pointedly looked at his hands, which were clenched in front of him, fisted on each side of his plate. He glanced to where her gaze rested and his lips twitched into a frown. Scowling, he looked to his right and then his left, where Marcus was grinning and holding a hand out to him. Alexis watched Griff’s gaze turn dark. Was his mind at war on whether or not to make a scene?

  She was beyond caring what Griff did or did not choose to do. Instead of pressing the issue, she bowed her head and closed her eyes, her hands still expectantly open to the teenagers sitting on either side of her.

  “Heavenly Father, we thank You for this food,” she started, not at all surprised when the
teens seated beside her belatedly clasped their hands in hers. By and large, these were good kids who just needed a little encouragement in their lives. Which they would get, from her, starting tonight and beginning with a prayer. “And we thank You for the company we have gathered together here now.”

  Even if very few of those gathered around her table apparently wanted to be here at all. She peeked across the table through half-closed lids. All the teens had joined hands. Only Griff had staunchly refused, his gaze narrowed on the plate in front of him and his fists still clenched tightly.

  She masked her sigh of exasperation. The man was more difficult than the entire group of teenagers put together, and that was saying a lot. But she was in the middle of addressing the Almighty. She shouldn’t be allowing Griff’s attitude to affect hers. She continued with her prayer, her voice strong and perhaps a little bit obstinate.

  “May Your blessing rest on each of us not only tonight, but throughout these few short weeks we will be together. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

  She grinned at the lukewarm chorus of amens that followed. A few weeks in her care and she knew lukewarm would advance into hearty. This was going to be a wonderful month, she could just feel it. Lives were going to be changed for the better. Griff Haddon’s bad attitude wasn’t going to ruin this for her—or for them.

  “Dig in before the food gets cold!” she urged enthusiastically.

  Everyone obliged, with two exceptions—Griff, who leaned back in his chair, folded his arms over his chest and glared at his empty plate, and Devon, who was staring defiantly at the two boys on the other side of the table. Alexis wondered what had gone down between Devon and the other young men before they’d arrived at the dinner table, and made a mental note to ask Marcus about it when they met later on in the evening.

  “What are you staring at, emo dude?” Connor challenged, elbowing Josh and jabbing his chin toward Devon. “You got a problem?”

  Devon didn’t answer, nor did he drop his gaze. Alexis could almost palpably feel the combustible thick tension building across the table. She scrambled for a way to end the standoff before it became ugly and exploded.

  “Speak up, Blackie,” Josh taunted. “You scared? You want to go running home to your mama?”

  Devon stood so quickly his chair tipped over behind him. His eyes turned glassy as he pressed his fists against the table and leaned in toward Connor.

  “Don’t you ever talk about my mama,” he warned through clenched teeth, slamming his fists against the tabletop so hard the dishes rattled.

  Josh laughed harshly. “Or what, emo boy?”

  “Or you’ll answer to me.” To Alexis’s very great surprise, it wasn’t Devon who had responded, or even one of the counselors. The low, calculated words came from Griff’s mouth. Everyone’s gaze snapped to his.

  Alexis had no doubt Griff meant what he’d said. His jaw and shoulders were every bit as tense as Devon’s. This wasn’t simply about quelling a potential brawl before it started, or lending assistance just because he happened to be sitting at the table when it all broke out.

  No—this was personal.

  Apparently, Connor and Josh saw the same thing she saw in Griff’s gaze, for they immediately backed down and made a big show of laughing it off.

  “Whatever, dude. We were just joking with him,” Connor said. “It’s all cool.”

  “Right.” Griff’s voice was deceptively mild.

  Devon continued glaring at the two boys across the table as he righted his chair and returned to his seat.

  The girls giggled until Griff’s gaze narrowed on them and abruptly cut them off. “You have something you want to add?”

  It was one thing to put a damper on the testosterone in the room, but quite another to frighten the girls unnecessarily. When it came to female teenagers, their giggling was a nervous gesture more often than not, certainly not intentionally harmful. But the way Griff was glaring at them, Alexis suspected he thought they were ganging up on Devon, whom for some inexplicable reason Griff had elected to champion.

  It was time to diffuse the situation before something worse happened, and food, she knew, was her best weapon in the battle.

  “Who wants spiral ham? I’m serving. Pass your plates,” Alexis announced, waving her serving fork and knife like a conductor in a symphony. “Fresh out of the oven. I glazed it with butter and honey,” she tempted. “Devon? You hungry?”

  Tension melted as the teens passed their plates. The counselors jumped in with standard-issue, get-to-know-you questions, which everyone reluctantly participated in, with the notable exception of Devon. The surly youth passed his plate with the rest but ate his food in silence without ever lifting his gaze.

  It was only after she’d served everyone else that she realized Griff’s plate was still empty. Apparently his wasn’t one of the plates that had been passed around, and from the look of things, it had been purposefully. He sat stock-still, his arms still crossed, his confrontational gaze locked squarely on her face.

  What? He didn’t think she’d had enough altercations for one evening?

  “Griff? Why don’t you pass your plate down to me so I can load you up with some ham?”

  He stood abruptly, the feet of his chair scratching against the hardwood floor. “No, I don’t think so. I’m sorry. Excuse me.”

  Without another word, he strode out of the dining room as though his tail was on fire. A moment later she heard the front screen door slam.

  Alexis watched him leave, her mouth agape. What had just happened? And just when she’d thought she’d broken the resistance at the table—or most of it, anyway. Men. Honestly. Give her a cranky teenager any day of the week.

  “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I don’t know what to say. You guys go ahead and eat before your food gets cold. I’m, um, going to—” She gestured toward the door instead of finishing her sentence.

  She ought to just let him go, she thought as she shot off after him, anger pulsing through her veins. Whatever his problem was, he needed to deal with it. Or at least cool off a bit. But if she waited for that to happen, she’d have time to cool off, as well, and quite honestly, she wasn’t willing to wait. She wanted to confront him while she was good and angry.

  “Griff, wait,” she called as she flounced out the front door and down the steps. He was already halfway around the house, presumably headed for the wrangler’s bunkhouse. She wasn’t sure he was going to acknowledge her, but after she called his name a second time, he stopped and turned, his posture stiff and his jaw tight with strain.

  He glowered at her. He clearly wasn’t over whatever had set him off.

  “Why did you follow me?” he asked.

  “Why did you storm out of there?” she countered, propping her fists on her hips and narrowing her gaze on him. “And after all that, you didn’t even eat anything.”

  “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  Well, that was rude. Frankly she didn’t care much one way or the other if his stomach was empty. It was his own fault he was in this predicament. As far as she was concerned, after the way he’d acted, he could very well starve to death. She wasn’t feeling particularly generous at the moment.

  “Why?” It was a simple question, and after the scene he’d just put her through, she deserved an honest answer.

  He frowned and shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

  So there was something, then. She’d suspected it wasn’t just bad manners. But now she was really curious.

  “I don’t understand.”

  His gaze narrowed on her, then shifted somewhere over her left shoulder. “There’s nothing to understand.”

  “Really? Because I think there is.”

  He sighed and it nudged at her heart. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him. She
didn’t want to feel anything for him, Vivian and her crazy schemes notwithstanding. Yet something about his expression bade her to continue.

  “I’m a good listener,” she prodded in a gentler tone of voice. Maybe if she backed off a little he’d be more inclined to share his feelings with her.

  “Look, I know you want answers, but my personal business is none of your concern. I’m outta here.” He didn’t wait for her to press further. Instead he turned on his heel and took long strides toward the side of the house.

  “See you tomorrow night for supper?” She didn’t know why she asked when the answer was obvious even before his voice drifted back to her.

  “I don’t think so.”

  * * *

  Griff couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He’d wanted to scream, or to kick, or to punch something. Nothing he could do in mixed company, especially in front of impressionable children. He certainly hadn’t expected Alexis to follow him out of the house and demand answers from him.

  He’d told her the truth. There was nothing to say.

  When he reached the bunkhouse, he paused at the door and then turned and headed out toward the nearest open field. It was growing dark and he had to tread carefully to keep from losing his footing, but he surged forward, scanning the way in front of him, glad to have something to keep his mind at least partially occupied outside of what had just happened with Alexis and the kids.

  He’d started squirming the moment the teenagers had arrived. High school hadn’t been a good experience for him, not a second of it, and he had no inclination to relive it through interaction with Alexis’s kids. But then Devon had walked through the door, all tough and defiant, acting as though he didn’t have a care in the world, as if it didn’t matter that he was clearly an outcast, different than other kids. Griff had immediately lost the slim grip on his present reality. Devon’s hidden vulnerability caught his eyes like a beacon and, despite Griff’s best efforts to the contrary, the boy’s condition tugged at something deep in his heart.