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  Dear Reader,

  Life is busy. It pulls us this way and that. Sometimes it pulls us away from the people who are very important in our lives. If those people’s paths intersect with ours again, it’s a special blessing. The story of two people who reconnect after ten years apart and have a second chance at love—a grown-up chance, this time—was a story I wanted to explore in this book. It was fun to discover how much these people still had in common and how much they needed to learn about each other. I hope you agree their happy-ever-after was worth the effort.

  Stop in and visit me at www.joannbrownbooks.com. Look for my next story in the Amish Hearts series, “A Christmas to Remember” coming in this year’s Christmas anthology Amish Christmas Blessings from Love Inspired.

  Wishing you many blessings,

  Jo Ann Brown

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  The Rancher’s Homecoming

  by Arlene James

  Chapter One

  Never let it be said that God did not answer prayers. Callie Deviner’s answer walked into the War Bonnet Café on the morning of the last Thursday in May, ordered breakfast, which he wolfed down with three cups of black coffee, then calmly announced to all within hearing distance that he was looking for a live-in cook and housekeeper.

  Callie set aside the heavy metal spatula she was holding and pushed a wisp of fine blond hair from her forehead with the back of her wrist before speaking to the freckle-faced teenager at the grill beside her.

  “Fill this next order. I have to go out front.”

  The teen boy gaped at her. Johnny had been working at the café for more than six months and knew his way around a grill, but the regular cook, Chet, who was out with a toothache and as set in his ways as her father, still hadn’t trusted the kid to do more than dish up fries and make toast. Callie ignored the youngster’s sputtered assurances and moved toward the swinging metal door that separated the kitchen from the dining room, sweeping the hated net from her short hair as she did so.

  Tucking the hairnet into the pocket of her apron with one hand and fluffing her bangs with the other, she moved swiftly behind the counter, past the middle-aged waitress, Jenny, and came to stand directly behind the tall, brown-haired man in the worn plaid shirt.

  “Did I hear you say you were looking for a cook and housekeeper?”

  His elbows slipped from the counter, and he spun on the stool to face her, his pale blue gaze quickly sweeping over her. He looked oddly polished despite that worn shirt. Without it, she’d have pegged him for a city boy, though she judged him to be in his thirties.

  “That’s right. For my father. We need someone live-in, as soon as possible. Dad’s ill, and I’ve come to help out. My sisters will be along as soon as they can arrange it, but that could be several weeks, and until then, we’ve got to have help.”

  “Who is your dad?”

  “Wes Billings.”

  “Oh. Out at Straight Arrow Ranch.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I had heard that Wes was ill.”

  “Very ill, I’m afraid.”

  A murmur of condolence went around the room. Wes was well thought of around War Bonnet, Oklahoma. He was known to be a fair, honest, upright Christian man willing to help a neighbor in need. This had to be Rex Billings, Wes’s son. He was quite a bit older than Callie, eight or ten years, so she didn’t really know him. Even in a town as small as War Bonnet, that many years apart in school practically guaranteed they’d be strangers unless they both stayed in town, and to her knowledge Rex had never returned after leaving for college, except perhaps to visit.

  He swept the room with his gaze, sending curious diners back to their own business. Callie inched closer, lowering her voice.

  “I’ll certainly do all I can for Wes. As for the position, how much are you thinking of paying?”

  Rex quietly named a weekly figure that made Callie’s heart leap with joy. Even two or three weeks at that rate would help her and her daughter, Bodie, get out of her father’s house at last. She motioned to the empty plate on the counter in front of him.

  “You might be interested in knowing that I cooked your breakfast. Two eggs over easy, bacon, very crisp, and flapjacks. Right? How’d I do?”

  Billings grinned and parked both elbows on the counter again, one on either side of his plate. “Eggs were perfect. Flapjacks nearly floated off the plate. I like my bacon crisp to the edge of burnt, but that’s just me. When can you start?”

  “That depends,” she said, sending up a silent prayer. “I have a six-month-old daughter. Will that be a problem?”

  Rex Billings tilted his head. His thick, medium-brown hair, she noticed, had been expertly cut and styled. He wore it without a part and, even mussed, it looked adorable. Pretty much everything about him made a woman look twice, from his straight nose to his square jaw and chin. He had recently shaved; she could still smell the shaving cream. But already she could see the dark shadow of his beard beneath his evenly tanned skin. It was his eyes that did it, though. Pale blue and gem bright, as if backlit by tiny lightbulbs from within.

  “Women with babies have been cooking and cleaning for millennia,” he said from behind a smile. “We have space for the both of you, especially if you don’t mind sharing a room.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I can’t imagine Dad would object. He knows you, doesn’t he?”

  “He does. He’s known me my whole life.” Callie reached around behind her and started untying her apron. “I can start right now, if you want.”

  “Works for me,” he said, pushing up to his full height, which she judged to be at least a couple inches over six feet. His jeans, in contrast to his shirt, looked to be brand-new. “I suppose I ought to least get your name, though.”

  “Oh! I’m sorry!” Callie laughed, lifting the apron’s neck piece off over her head. “It’s Callie Deviner. Everyone just calls me Callie.”

  “Callie Deviner. Pleased to meet you.” He put out his big hand. She quickly shook hands with him. “I’m Rex Billings.”

  “Yes, I figured that, since Wes has just the one son.”

  He tilted his head again, those pale blue eyes holding her gaze. “Shouldn’t I know you, too?”

  “I went to school with your sisters. You were long gone when I came on the scene.”


  “Ah. I suppose that’s true. Meredith is ten years younger than me, so...”

  “I’m Ann’s age,” Callie supplied. “Twenty-eight.”

  “Still, that’s eight years,” he said. “I was already practicing law by the time you graduated high school.”

  A lawyer. Wes must be very proud. She frowned then, wondering what ailed Wes. The sooner she got to the ranch, the sooner she’d know.

  “Just let me get my things so we can go,” she said.

  He glanced around. “You sure it’s all right to leave like this?”

  “I’m just filling in. Off-the-books. It’s fine.”

  “Okay, then.” He nodded decisively, and she carried her apron toward Jenny.

  The blocky, chatty waitress looked around in surprise when Callie thrust the thick, white apron into her hands, saying, “I’m leaving now, Jenny.”

  “Leaving?” Jenny echoed. “Who’s gonna cook?”

  “Johnny can handle it.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t actually work here,” Callie reminded the woman, who followed her into the back room. “I’m not even being paid. It isn’t as if you can fire me. I’m just helping out.”

  “Your daddy—”

  “Will get over it,” Callie said softly. Or not. Either way, she was going with Rex Billings. “You let me worry about that.”

  “Chet will be beside himself,” Jenny hissed.

  Callie ignored her, taking her handbag from the locked cabinet and tossing Jenny the key. “I won’t be needing this again.”

  One more thing she wouldn’t need to do again was put up with Ben Dolent and her father’s heavy-handed matchmaking. Ben wasn’t a bad man, just a dull, unattractive one who happened to be the manager of her father’s grain silo, a willing pawn of her father’s, doing whatever he was told without question. Sometimes Callie thought that if she had to endure one more evening of his company she would explode.

  “Stuart is not going to be happy about this,” Jenny warned, but Callie couldn’t remember when her father had last been happy about anything, especially not where she was concerned. She knew he meant well, but financial security was not the only important thing in life, and her father had no right to decide whom she would marry and where she would live. Still, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to make him understand that. The more she talked, the more he restricted her access to funds and threw Ben Dolent at her.

  “Do me a favor, Jenny,” she said softly. “Don’t call my father yet.”

  “I have to, girl! He owns this place.”

  “Just give me a couple hours then. That’s not too much to ask, is it? How often have I helped you out?”

  Jenny’s lips, red with her favorite lipstick, flattened, but then she nodded, muttering, “It’s about to get real busy around here.” She glared at Callie. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time to up and leave. I don’t know where all these folks are coming from. It’s a phenomenal, is what it is, a phenomenal.”

  “Phenomenon,” Callie corrected gently. Smiling, she patted Jenny’s arm as she left the small room. “Thanks, Jenny. I appreciate it.”

  Callie walked out into the dining room, the strap of her roomy handbag slung over one shoulder, and smiled at Rex Billings, the tall, handsome lawyer.

  “I’m all yours.”

  The way his pale blue gaze raked over her, from the top of her shaggy blond head to the toes of her cheap athletic shoes, suddenly made her wish that she’d phrased that differently, but then he smiled and lifted an arm in invitation.

  “After you.”

  * * *

  It didn’t hit Rex until she pointed to the tall, redbrick house in the center of the block exactly whom he had hired.

  “You’re Stuart Crowsen’s daughter.”

  She turned wide, glade-green eyes on him, seeming almost frightened. “Is that a problem?”

  “Of course not. I just didn’t realize, that’s all.”

  “Because of my married name,” she concluded, nodding.

  He turned the six-year-old pickup truck into the drive and brought it to a stop. His own silver, two-seater sports car sat under a protective cloth cover beneath a tree behind his dad’s house. “I take it you’re divorced.”

  “No.” The sadness in that one word said it all.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her, killing the engine and letting out the clutch. “Divorced is no picnic, but widowed has to be worse.”

  “You’re divorced, then?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed and rubbed a finger over his eyebrow. “No kids, so at least we didn’t mess up innocent lives.”

  It turned out that catching the boss’s daughter cheating on him had an upside, even if she was your own wife. Rex had ended his relationship with his former law firm, not to mention his marriage with the senior partner’s daughter, over eight months ago. Given the situation, Rex had been offered a very generous severance package. That had given him the freedom to come back to War Bonnet and help out with the ranch while his dad fought to recover his health.

  “I’d just found out I was pregnant when Bo died,” Callie told Rex softly. “Bodie will never know him, and he never saw her, but I thank God that I have her.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had a rough time of it.”

  “Mmm, well, no one’s sick. Mind if I ask what’s wrong with your dad?”

  “Cancer. They removed a piece of his liver and some lymph glands, but at least it wasn’t in his pancreas or bile ducts. He’ll have to undergo chemotherapy when he’s stronger, which is why my sisters and I are coming home for a while. This is a busy season at the ranch, and he just can’t manage on his own. With Mom gone, it’s up to us.”

  “I remember when your mom died,” Callie said. “It was a big shock. I don’t think anyone realized she had a heart condition.”

  “No one,” Rex confirmed. “It was a birth defect. All us kids had to be tested for it afterward. Thankfully, none of us have the problem, but I think that’s why Meredith became a nurse.”

  “I wondered about that. Meri never said anything about wanting to be a nurse when we were girls.”

  “I didn’t know you were that close.”

  “We hung out some.”

  Callie reached for the door handle. “I’ll be as quick as I can. There’s a portable crib in the garage. Also some boxes and tape. I used them when Bodie and I moved in a few months back. If you want to help out, you can put the crib in the truck while I tape up the boxes. Then we’ll go inside.”

  “That’ll work.”

  They walked into the garage via a side door. Callie pulled out the crib and Rex carried it out to the truck. When he returned to the garage, she had four midsize moving boxes put together. She handed him two and took two in her hands before leading the way through the side door.

  “Most of my clothes are on hangers,” she said, stepping up into a pristine kitchen. “Bodie’s things will fit in two boxes.”

  “You been keeping house for your dad?” he asked, glancing around.

  “Almost my whole life,” she confirmed. He nodded to himself. Okay, she could cook and clean. “Don’t worry,” she added. “He can afford to hire help.”

  That worked for Rex. “Just take what you need for now. We can come back later for anything else.”

  She turned and faced him. “I’d rather take it all if you don’t mind. There really isn’t that much.” Nervously, she sifted her fingers through her short, silky bangs.

  He’d always preferred women with long hair, but Callie’s wispy, chin-length blond hair suited her oval face. He liked her somewhat pointy chin. It looked good on her, as did the form-hugging jeans and the simple, short-sleeved T-shirt that she wore. She looked strong and fit, curving in all the right places. Everything about her
felt completely genuine.

  Rex realized that he was staring and, to cover his lapse, blurted out, “What color is that shirt?”

  She looked down at her shirt. “What?”

  “I can’t figure out if it’s orange or pink,” he said with a chuckle.

  Her green eyes—the color of leafy trees sparkling in the sunlight—rolled upward, and pink lips without a trace of lipstick widened in a smile. “It’s melon.”

  He grinned. “Whatever you say.”

  Smiling, she crooked a finger at him. “Come with me.”

  “Lead on.”

  They walked through a formal dining room and into an entry hall, where a staircase led up to the second floor. A plump, grandmotherly woman with tightly curled, iron gray hair appeared on the landing above them.

  “Callie? Shouldn’t you be at the café?”

  “Not today, Mrs. Lightner. Has Bodie had her bottle?”

  “She has, as well as a bath and a fresh diaper. I was just about to dress her when I heard you come in.”

  “That’s wonderful. You’re a blessing, Mrs. Lightner. Would you finish dressing her for me?”

  The elderly woman frowned, her brows meeting behind her large, thick glasses. Rex figured he knew what the problem must be. He set down the boxes.

  “Are you the Mrs. Lightner who used to teach me in Sunday school and give my sisters Meredith and Ann piano lessons?”

  Those eyebrows went up. “Meredith and Ann? You must be Rex Billings.”

  “That’s right.” Smiling, he stepped up onto the landing and hugged the woman. “I wasn’t sure at first, ma’am. I thought you were older.”

  Tittering and fluffing her hair, she actually blushed. “Really?”

  “You know how it is,” he said, grinning at her. “Kids think anyone over twenty is ancient. You couldn’t have been much older than thirty back then.” She’d been fifty if she’d been a day, but he’d learned to schmooze at the best law firm in Tulsa.

  “Oh, go on,” Mrs. Lightner said with a giggle. “You always were a scamp.”