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She ducked outside and around to the back of the stable, where she drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let everything around her go quiet. That took a couple of minutes, and then Gerty whispered, “Lord, it’s me, Gertrude Whettstein. I’m real sorry I’ve been so quiet these past couple of months, but I just…don’t know what to say.”
Her stomach swooped, almost like she was riding a roller coaster, and Gerty swallowed to settle her nerves.
“I need to know where we are,” she whispered. “I know You’re probably mad I haven’t been as faithful as I should’ve been. I want to do better. Can You let me know if I’m okay, and how to do better?”
Gerty had never had the booming voice of God fill her ears. She’d had pricks of thought over the years, and things that “rang true” in her heart. Something her daddy would say that made the hair on her arms stand up, and she simply knew it was true.
Right now, alone with only the wind and fences for company, Gerty kept her eyes closed and listened. With her ears and her heart and her mind all paying attention, the sweetest, softest feeling of love filled her.
And she knew—God loved her, even as silent as she’d been. Even as broken as she felt. Even as mean as she’d been to Mike when they’d first arrived at the farm.
She thought,Apologize to Mikeand thenKeep working, Gerty. Move forward. Don’t stand still.
Her eyes opened, her tasks set by the Lord. “Thank you,” she whispered. She looked up into the cloudless sky. “Thank you.”
Gerty was very good with a task list, and she hurried to get to a place where she had enough service to make a call into the city.
22
Cord raked out the last of the dirty straw in the stall, pitching it into the wheelbarrow in the aisle. In the next stall down, Travis did the same thing. And up at the end, Mike worked with them today too.
He marveled that the two men he worked with didn’t have to work at all. They were both billionaires. Travis donated the entirety of his salary back to Pony Power, and Cord wasn’t sure what Mike did. He probably simply worked for free. This was his uncle’s farm and all.
“All done,” he said a moment later, tossing his pitchfork into the wheelbarrow. “I’ll be right back for y’all.”
Travis yepped at him, and Cord lifted the heavy wheelbarrow, balanced it, and set off for the waste dumpsters. He didn’t particularly like this part of the job, but he loved everything about Colorado. The wide, open skies, the cool breezes in the autumn, all four seasons, and the mountains which greeted him every single morning.
He dumped the waste and turned back for the stables. A woman walked ahead of him, her hand in that of a little boy. His heartbeat picked up speed, and not because he’d just exerted himself getting rid of the manure.
That was Jane, and he hadn’t seen her around the farm yet today. She’d been working four days a week in the city, and then spending Fridays and her weekend here on the farm. She still lived in the big, gray house, as she was taking care of it for her parents while they were in Coral Canyon this summer.
Her younger brother, Deacon, lived there with her.
Today, she wore a light-wash pair of jeans and a bright blue blouse that had sleeves that waved in the air current as she walked. Her dark blonde hair had been pulled up into a ponytail, and he expected her to take the little boy into the arena where the ponies were already waiting. Two or three other children had already arrived, and sure enough, Jane took the boy in with them.
To his surprise, she didn’t stay, but came right back out and latched the gate behind her. She turned, looked up, and paused as her eyes met Cord’s. He told himself to keep on moving, because he did not want to get into any trouble with the boss’s daughter.
“Morning, Cord,” she said, her smile bright as she tucked her hands into her front pockets.
“Ma’am.” He nodded at her, and while everything male inside him told him to stop and chit-chat for a few minutes, the rational side of him screamed at him tokeep moving. Do not stop.
“Oh, I’m not even thirty,” she teased. “You can’t call me ma’am.” She stepped right into his path, and he had no choice but to stop. He could’ve mowed her down with the wheelbarrow, but that certainly wouldn’t be good.
He looked at her, and she looked at him, and he had no idea what was happening. His blood seemed to fizz in his veins, and he’d never had this reaction to a woman before.
“I’m not fourteen anymore,” she said.
“I can see that.”
“Maybe you and I could try goin’ to dinner.” She raised her eyebrows, a clear question mark for her statement.
“I…I don’t know about that, Miss Jane.”
She stepped around the curved end of the wheelbarrow, those electric eyes locked on his. “I think we’d have fun.”
“I’m not really into having fun,” he said.
She cocked her head, her eyes narrowing. “What does that mean? I know you cowboys have card-playing nights and bonfires with each other. Those aren’t fun?”
