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Seven
Tamara
“Who are you?”
I turned as the small voice called out to me. I’d been waiting for this moment. When his curiosity would win out. “I’m Tamara. You’re Sammy, right?”
Sitting on the front porch drinking my second cup of coffee, I wasn’t quite ready for company. Oh well, I’d better get ready because eight-year-olds aren’t known for their patience and understanding.
“Why are you here?” He asked, sitting on the chair across from me. His tiny feet barely hitting the ground.
Now I wasn’t quite sure what to say in response to that, but sticking close to the truth was a good place to start. “I need your dad’s help.”
Nodding, the tiny human looked out over the front yard for a few seconds. “Yeah, a lot of people come to my dad for help,” he said in a low voice before going silent.
I may not have children, but I knew sadness when I saw it. “Do you help your dad around the ranch?”
With that question, his entire face lit up with a smile. “Yup, and Grandpa, too. I help feed the horses. I can’t brush them or anything because my dad’s scared one of ‘em will kick me or something. I keep telling him I’m big enough to handle it. He doesn’t believe me, though.”
I tried to hold in my laughter at his indignant tone. “I’m sure he’s just trying to protect you.”
A sly look came over his face. “You know, maybe if I had another adult on my side to tell him I was big enough to handle it, he’d believe them.”
Oh, this little devil. “Oh, no, buddy. You’re not getting me in the middle of this. I’ve been here exactly one day. I don’t want your dad to kick my butt outta here.”
Vigorously shaking his head, he hopped off the chair and came over to me. “Oh, he won’t. You’re pretty. My dad’s never had a pretty woman here before. If you’re on my side, I’ll share my desserts with you. Ms. Gladys makes the best desserts. Do we have a deal?”
“What kind of deal are you making,” Clint’s voice called out, causing the young boy to jump back in shock.
“Um, nothing. I was just asking Ms. Tamara if she’d like to… um…” he glanced at her with pleading eyes.
I helped bail him out. “I was asking for a tour of the ranch. Sammy said he’d help me after he finished his, um… chores.” I hoped that was the right word. Did kids still do chores in this day and age?
Clint stared at the two of us with suspicion. “Is that right?”
Grabbing the lifeline I’d just given him, Sammy jumped in. “Yup, that’s right, Dad.”
Corrupting an eight-year-old into lying to his father. Good move, Tamara. Then again, he was the one who started us down this road to purgatory.
“How about I give Tamara that tour? You go on inside and get ready for school.”
“Awwww, Dad. Those teachers aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know. Can’t I just hang out here at the ranch with you today?”
Walking over to his son, Clint crouched down, bringing them eye-to-eye. “I know school doesn’t seem like fun right now, but I promise you it’s worth it. When you get home, I promise you and I will go on a ride together. Maybe take our fishing poles down the creek for a while before dinner. How does that sound?”
Joy came over the boy’s face as his dad’s words sank in. “Really, Dad? Yes! Okay, let me go get ready for school. Bye, Ms. Tamara. Have a good day.” The little rascal winked at me while pointing at his dad’s back. Clearly, he hadn’t forgotten his scheme for me to convince his father to let him do more with the horses.
“I hope he wasn’t bothering you,” Clint said, sitting down next to me.
“No, he was just introducing himself to me. There was a lot of activity yesterday, and he and I didn’t get introduced. He’s a sweet little boy.”
Clint laughed. A full belly laugh that made me smile. “Oh, he’s sweet alright. He’s also a schemer. Don’t let him pull you into any of his plans. That boy has a way about him. If he wanted to, he could convince an angel to sin.”
I couldn’t help but smile, because that’s precisely what Sammy had been doing with me just minutes before his father came outside.
Leaning back against the chair, his legs spread wide. He was already dressed for the day. Or at least, dressed the way I thought rancher would look. Worn cowboy boots, distressed blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and his ever-present black hat.
“Are you ready for that tour now?”
