Page 41 of A Sunny Sweetheart for the Cowboy

From what Weston had heard, Graham and Cadence were planning to stay, too. That was a bit of a shock, since Graham was the consummate city boy. Or, he had been. Guess not so much anymore.

Jude talked like he’d stay living here after getting his pilot’s license. Who knew about Bryce or Maxwell?

Weston shifted in his saddle as he glanced back at the packhorses plodding along behind Ranger. The others were out of sight in front of him, seemingly in a hurry to get back to civilization. He wouldn’t mind a shower, himself.

But would he stay at the ranch? If not, where? Would he still have an inheritance from Grandfather if he walked away now?

Mom was staying, no doubt. She’d even visited her father in Chicago a couple of times over the winter, totally making up for lost time in that department.

Did Weston care about that inheritance? He hated himself for realizing he did. The old man had more money than he knew what to do with, even after buying this ranch and sinking tons of cash into it. And that had nothing to do with the Sullivan hotel chain and the other chain they’d bought a majority in last summer.

But it wasn’t the money so much. He’d done without before and survived. It was the belonging. Jude had done better there than he had. He’d struck up a friendship with Maxwell, plus he seemed to get along with the other cousins. They’d been friendly to Weston, too — at least, after the initial shock — but his wait-and-see attitude had kept them at arm’s length.

He hated this feeling of awkwardness, but he’d caused it himself. Trust came hard. Maybe he needed to settle interior matters before he could make a final decision about remaining at Sweet River.

How did a guy go about reinventing himself? Oh, yeah, there was a verse about being a new creation in Christ. So, he didn’t need to do it alone. He had to ask Jesus to guide him and strengthen him.

Weston closed his eyes. He felt the warm sun on his back. Smelled the fragrance of the trees and the wildflowers along the trail. Heard a meadowlark singing sweetly. Creation was what had convinced him God was real. How anyone could believe this massively interdependent ecosystem had evolved from nothing was incomprehensible. Sure, it was hard to believe in an eternal God, but it was easy-peasy compared to believing this order came from chaos by chance.

It was the personal aspect of faith that tripped him up, over and over again. He’d been caught in a never-ending loop like a blind horse being lunged in circles in a corral. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in Jesus’ death and resurrection. He did. It just somehow wasn’t… relevant?

Watching his cousins, though. Watching Paisley. Even Harvey and Susanna and some of the kids this past week… other people found it possible to dial in with God like He was a personal friend. How to do that had always escaped Weston, but maybe a cowboy his age should start figuring that out.

Beginning how?

Prayer, probably. That was something he could do even as Ranger picked up speed now that they traveled the well-worn trails near the stables.

Weston cleared his throat and glanced up at the blue sky where a few fluffy clouds floated above the treetops. “God? I don’t even know how to do this, but I’m kind of tired — no, actually, I’m sick of who I am. Repulsed, even. I don’t know how to take my negative attitude and turn it around, but I’m hoping You do. So, can You help me, please?”

Not surprisingly, there was no booming voice from above, just the creak of his saddle and the plodding of the horses’ hooves. How, exactly, God would answer that prayer might be interesting. Meanwhile, Weston would keep watch and try to do better.

The corrals came into view. Paisley already supervised dismounts as Darrell and a couple of the other hands led horses away for untacking and a good brushing. Harvey and Susanna gathered their charges together outside the corral as Ranger came up to the gate. Axel scuttled over to hold it for him.

Weston grinned at the boy. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, sir. And thanks for a great excursion. It was fun.”

And here Weston had thought this kid too citified to care about being in nature. If his parents had never camped outside an RV before, it wasn’t likely Axel had. Did that make the trip a win?

Getting the kids to enjoy creation and see God’s hand in it had been the goal, so, yeah. Successful.

Weston dismounted, and Darrell was right there reaching for the reins. Weston shook his head. “I’ve got him.”

Darrell grinned. “My job, boss. I’ve messaged the kitchen crew to come for the remains of the food and related supplies. Have fun?”

Weston studied his right-hand man. “Sometimes.”

Darrell laughed. “I guess that’s more than I expected out of you.”

Ugh. Was he such a grouch that no one thought he could enjoy himself? He met Paisley’s gaze over Ranger’s back. She raised her eyebrows at him with no hint of a smile.

She was still ticked, and he deserved it. It wasn’t like she’d overheard his initial confrontation with Matthew. Weston closed the distance as she clasped her clipboard in front of her chest.

Now what? “You did a good job planning and leading this trip. Thanks.”

Paisley blinked and took a step back. “You’re welcome?” Then she cleared her throat. “Um, you, too, except for…”

“I may have over-reacted with Matthew.”

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