Free The Rancher's First Love by Brenda Minton Page A

They’d done a few tricks, talked to the children. Now they were socializing. He guessed that was always his favorite part of an event. He loved watching expressions on the children’s faces when John did various tricks. They were always in awe of his four-legged partner.
    But getting to know the kids, hearing their stories—that was the part he most enjoyed. Sometimes his heart got a little banged up in the process. In the hospitals there were stories of disease, lifelong struggles, hope and fear. In homes such as this one he heard about the worst of humanity. Children who were left to go hungry, were beaten or abandoned.
    But now they were safe. They were fed. They were happy. They told stories the way veterans recounted war.
    In a quiet moment he looked around, searching for Samantha. He spotted her on a swing, a little girl sitting on her lap. Sam pushed with her feet and the swing moved just the slightest bit, back and forth. The little girl, maybe four years old, looked up at Sam as if she was the best thing ever. He agreed with her.
    He headed in their direction, John Wayne trotting obediently at his side. Then suddenly they were stopped. John froze. Remington looked down at the boy who had hurried to catch up with them. He wrapped his arms around John’s neck and the horse stood without moving, the boy’s thin arms hugging him tight.
    â€œI want a horse like this one,” the boy said. “I’d change his name, though.”
    â€œChange his name! What else would you call him?”
    â€œI don’t know, but I’ve never heard the name John Wayne and I think he should be called Midnight. Or King.”
    Remington bit back a grin and tried hard to keep a serious expression on his face.
    â€œWell, John Wayne just happened to be one of the best cowboys ever,” he explained. “He was an actor in movies about the Old West.”
    â€œOld West?” A girl had walked over to them.
    â€œYes, ma’am. He played Rooster Cogburn.”
    They looked at him as if he came from Mars. “But you said he was a cowboy. How’d he play a rooster?” the little boy asked.
    Finally Remington laughed. “He didn’t play a rooster. That was his name.”
    â€œYou could have named John Wayne, Rooster,” the girl offered.
    â€œYeah, I guess I could have.” He scratched his jaw and kept a serious face. “But then he wouldn’t be John Wayne.”
    â€œI still like Midnight,” the boy said with conviction.
    â€œMidnight is a real good name. I think if I get another horse, that’s what I’ll name him.”
    The boy grinned big. “And you’d bring him here so I could see him.”
    â€œI’d definitely bring him here to visit.”
    The girl patted John’s neck. “I think John Wayne would like a friend.”
    â€œHe’s got me,” Remington offered.
    The girl rolled her eyes. “You’re a person. He needs horse friends.”
    Samantha appeared at his side, her new friend still holding tight to her neck. “I agree. John needs horse friends.”
    â€œYou’re not helping,” he whispered.
    She laughed, and her blue eyes sparkled, but he saw remnants of unshed tears, as if the heartache of the little girl had become her own.
    â€œI’m trying,” she said. “Here comes Mrs. Baker.”
    Mrs. Baker was a widow with a heart for kids. She said this house full of little ones kept her young, kept her heart in the right place. They anchored her.
    â€œChildren, it’s time to say goodbye to Remington and John Wayne. We have to clean our rooms before dinner,” Mrs. Baker announced.
    The children groaned and Remington noticed little arms tightening around Sam’s neck, holding on for dear life. Mrs. Baker noticed, too, and headed their way.
    â€œI’ll take Jalee.” Mrs. Baker reached for the little girl who clutched Sam.
    â€œI want to go,” Jalee cried.