Free Christmas at Blue Moon Ranch by Lynnette Kent

young muscles
like yours to help us. What do you say? Want to earn some extra cash?”
    Rob’s eyes
brightened at the word cash, but then his face fell. “I’ve got school.
Besides, you’re hiring some hands, aren’t you?”
    “Won’t start
till next week. The corrals as they stand ain’t safe enough for this nice
horse.” He took Calypso’s lead rope from Daniel. “Major Trent and me can get it
done, but the job’d go faster with some extra hands.”
    Daniel kept
quiet—he figured any effort he made at persuasion would only drive the boy
away. After considering for a minute, Rob nodded. “I guess I could come for a
couple of hours after school. But I have to get my chores at home done, too. I
can’t stay late.” He threw Daniel a defiant glance.
    “No problem.”
Daniel shrugged. “An hour or two will be a big help. Thanks for bringing the
horse.”
    Rob cleared his
throat. “You’re welcome.” Once back in the saddle, he gave a brief wave. “See
you later.” With a movement of his heels, the black horse leapt into a
ground-shaking gallop, which gradually faded away.
    “He’s a good
boy,” Nate said. “I hear he’s had a hard time since his daddy was killed.”
    “I think they
all have.” Daniel lowered himself to sit on a bale of straw. “Losing a father…a
husband…isn’t something you get over quickly.”
    “Jamie Mercado
was a decent man. Not the steadiest, maybe…” The foreman shrugged.
    Daniel knew
Willa would hate being the subject of gossip. But maybe Nate could help him
understand her better. “Not steady, how?”
    “He liked
speculating—invested in some crazy projects over the years. Willa only found
out about a couple of them after he died and the money wasn’t there for paying
the bills.”
    “Hmm.” So Willa’s
husband had left her in debt. Yet she felt she owed it to him to keep the ranch
together and felt guilty for selling part of it. If she couldn’t trust her own
husband, how would she ever trust a stranger? “So, do we have a place to park
Calypso until I can get these boards nailed up?”
    “I’ll tie him up
with some hay for the time being.” Nate accepted the change of subject with a
nod. “He’ll be good till we’re done.”
    True to his
word, Rob arrived about three-thirty each afternoon for the rest of the week
and worked hard for two solid hours without protest or complaint. Daniel didn’t
ask if Willa had objected to the arrangement and the boy didn’t volunteer any
information.
    The three of
them didn’t really talk much at all. Daniel needed most of his strength for the
work itself and to force his body to cooperate. He took as few breaks as
possible, especially while Rob was present, and went to bed dead-tired at
night.
    Thursday,
though, Rob looked over at him while they waited for Nate to cut a board for
the side of the barn. “You went to Iraq, like my dad.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Did you fight
in many battles?”
    “I saw my
share.”
    “What’s it
like?”
    Daniel debated
his answer for a moment. “Loud. Hot. Dirty and confusing. Scary.”
    Rob curled his
lip. “You were scared?”
    “I don’t know
anybody who wasn’t. You look death in the face, then follow orders, anyway. That’s
a soldier’s job.”
    The boy nodded.
“I guess so. What kind of stuff did you do?”
    “Well…” Daniel
sifted through his memories, trying to find some that were G-rated. “We helped
build two schools and a hospital. I did some mentoring for Iraqi kids, coached
soccer for a couple of teams—”
    Rob dismissed
those efforts with a snort. “Did you hunt down terrorists?”
    “Yeah, I did.”
    “Did you kill
any of them?”
    “When I had to.”
Too often.
    “How many? Did
you get medals and stuff?” The boy’s eyes glowed with excitement. He raised his
arms as if he held a rifle and mimicked the sound of weapon fire, jerking the
imaginary gun with each shot. “Pow. Pow, pow, pow. Pow.”
    Daniel sliced
his straight arm down