Chapter 9
TRENT WAS SURPRISED when Wyatt came out to the barn later that night and knocked on his door in the loft.
“Hey, buddy,” he said when Trent opened the door, “I talked to Mr. Olsen and he said he’s fine with you driving me to Ray’s starting next week.” He gave him a stupid grin. “I got my job back. I am once again in the welding business.”
Trent tilted his head. “You got gas money?”
“Some … enough. And Ray’ll pay me weekly so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“All right then. Sounds good.”
Wyatt looked past him into the room and pointed at the window.
“I climbed out that window and onto the roof once. Spied on the other room.” He jerked his head slightly toward Levi’s door.
“I got an eyeful. The guy staying there, Noah, was under hypnosis. His therapist, Hannah, was there and so was Mia.”
“Come on in. Tell me the whole story.”
“Maybe next Monday, on the road. Can we leave by seven-thirty?”
“Sure.”
Wyatt turned to leave and then looked back at Trent. “Don’t blow it with Naomi. Looks like that’s who God picked for you.”
“Hold on. What’s with the God talk?”
Wyatt chuckled. “Come on, man, you’ve been going to church with us. Haven’t you picked up on all the old-fashioned trust-in-the-Lord stuff? I mean, the Olsens don’t even own a TV; this home is about as Bible-thumper straight as they come.”
Trent nodded hoping to let the whole discussion drop. But Wyatt had more to say. “Dude, if you weren’t a Christian before, you’ll be one by the time you leave. When are you leaving, anyway? You’re not here on a ninety-day or a hundred-twenty-day sentence.”
Trent shrugged. “I sort of got my directions mixed up this year. I had been thinking of working the winter in Texas, but … that didn’t work out.”
Wyatt leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with a knowing smirk. “Didn’t work out? Hey, remember, I was helping there at the community center Thanksgiving feast for the … the unemployed.”
Trent hesitated. “Yeah, the unemployed and the homeless. Life can sometimes be tough.”
Wyatt raised an eyebrow. “Life is always tough. But ending up here? Sounds like fate or … Providence. AKA God.” He pointed up with a grin.
“Yeah, well, I wasn’t planning on a Bible study group disguised as a ranch.” Trent shot back with a chuckle.
Wyatt snorted. “Fair enough. But seriously, Naomi’s into you. Don’t play it too cool, or you’ll miss your shot.”
Trent stiffened slightly, unsure if Wyatt was teasing or serious. “She’s here to help the Olsens, not … whatever you’re thinking.”
“And you’re here to milk cows, not lasso hearts.
Doesn’t mean it can’t happen.” Wyatt gave him a mischievous wink.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re cryin’ in your boots after she finishes up here and leaves without a goodbye.
” Wyatt leaned against the doorframe, his grin not fading in the least. “And now you’re thinking about making a move, aren’t you? ”
“Making a move? Who says I’m even staying long enough to be your chauffeur?” Trent’s voice was defensive, but even he didn’t sound convinced.
Wyatt smirked. “Come on, man. It’s written all over you. You’ve got a thing for Naomi, you’re settling in with the work … and you haven’t even booked a ticket south, have you?”
Trent stayed silent, his eyes narrowing slightly.
“I’m just saying,” Wyatt continued, “maybe God shut that Texas door for a reason.”
Before Trent could respond, the faint sound of a vehicle coming up the drive reached their ears. Both men turned toward the window, spotting headlights cutting through the dark.
“You expecting someone?” Trent asked. “Mia?”
Wyatt shook his head, already heading down the stairs. Trent followed closely behind, the two of them emerging from the barn coatless into the frosty dusk breeze.
A truck rolled to a stop near the house. The engine idled for a moment before cutting off. Trent’s gut tightened. Late-night visitors on a quiet ranch were rarely good news.
The driver’s door opened, and a tall figure stepped out, silhouetted against the truck’s headlights. The man was broad-shouldered, wearing a ball cap pulled low over his brow. He paused, scanning the property, then started toward the barn.
“Friend of yours?” Wyatt muttered.
“I don’t recognize him,” Trent said, his voice low. He stepped forward, his stance cautious but firm. “Can I help you?”
The man stopped a few paces away, tipping his jaw up to reveal sharp features and a piercing gaze. “Name’s Ethan,” he said, his voice smooth but carrying an edge. “I’m looking for someone. Naomi Foster. I thought she might be here.”
Trent’s stomach dropped, his mind racing. “What do you want with Naomi?”
Ethan’s smile was thin and cold. “That’s between me and her.”
Wyatt tensed beside Trent, his hand twitching at his side. “She’s not here,” Wyatt said quickly. “What’s this about?”
Ethan’s gaze shifted between the two of them, his expression unreadable. “I’ll check in town.”
Without another word, he turned and climbed back into his truck, the engine roaring to life. Trent and Wyatt stood in tense silence as the vehicle disappeared into the night.
Wyatt let out a low whistle. “Well, that was ominous.”
Trent didn’t respond, his jaw set and his fists clenched. Whoever this Ethan was, he had the distinct feeling that trouble had just arrived at the Faithful Hearts Ranch.
***
Naomi played with Ruby for a while then transcribed the notes she’d spoken into her phone the last two days.
She was comfy in the motor lodge, but anxious to get back to the ranch tomorrow.
It was going to be very difficult to leave once her job was done.
She tried to think of ways to prolong the consultation.
She leaned back in the creaky motel chair, letting out a long sigh as Ruby rested her head on her lap, her big brown eyes full of trust. She absently stroked the pup’s soft ears, her mind spinning between the ranch, Trent, and the tangled web of her own life.
The ranch had wormed its way into her heart, just like Ruby. The warmth of the Olsens’ hospitality, the purposefulness of the work, the natural rhythm of the days—it was nothing like she was used to. And then there was Trent.
She closed her eyes, picturing the way he had steadied her earlier, his quiet strength and easy smile.
There was something solid about him, something she hadn’t realized she’d been longing for until now.
But how could she even think about a relationship?
She wasn’t here for romance; she was here to help a struggling farm.
Yet, every time she told herself that, her resolve weakened a little more.
Yesterday she’d had several texts from her brother. She’d switched the phone to do not disturb and hoped she wouldn’t find more texts today. She read through yesterdays:
HAVE YOU CHECKED IN WITH DAD? HE’S ACTING WEIRD. ALSO, I DON’T LIKE YOU BEING SO FAR AWAY.
Naomi rolled her eyes as she read her quick reply: I’M FINE. YOU DON’T NEED TO KEEP PLAYING WATCHDOG.
His reply read exactly as he sounded, domineering and controlling: I’M NOT PLAYING. YOU’RE OUT THERE WITH STRANGERS. WHAT IF SOMETHING HAPPENS?
It was a three to four-hour drive over the state line to Wyoming and her brother’s place.
The truth was she lived with him when she wasn’t traveling, but she never admitted that to clients.
She was afraid to switch off the do not disturb button and find a dozen new texts.
She groaned, tossing the phone onto the table.
Ethan had been this way for as long as she could remember—overbearing and impossible to shake.
He meant well, but his constant meddling was suffocating.
Ruby whimpered softly, sensing her tension. Naomi bent down, hugging the dog to her chest. “At least you don’t try to run my life,” she whispered.
Her eyes wandered to her laptop screen, where her neatly typed notes glared back at her.
She knew she couldn’t stretch the consultation forever—her recommendations were already taking shape, and the Olsens would soon have everything they needed to move forward.
But the idea of walking away felt heavier than she’d expected.
She leaned her forehead against her hand, murmuring, “Why is it so hard to think about leaving this particular farm?”
She picked up the phone, hesitated, then went ahead and released the do not disturb button.
Her phone binged several times, signaling each unread text that had come in.
She groaned. Then, it gave a different buzz but this time it wasn’t a text.
It was a photo from Taylor. She smiled when she saw it.
It showed Mason sprawled out on the ranch kitchen floor earlier today playing with Ruby.
The caption read: brING HER BACK SOON. SHE’S ALREADY PART OF THE FAMILY.
Naomi laughed softly, her heart tugging in two directions at once.
She wasn’t ready to leave the ranch, or the people—or one person in particular. But she wasn’t ready to face her brother’s grilling or her dad’s problems.
Ruby wagged her tail, nudging Naomi’s hand. “You’re right,” she said softly. “We’ll figure it out.”
As she set her laptop aside and started planning her next steps, she realized she was no closer to an answer. All she knew was that something about Faithful Hearts Ranch felt like home, and Trent Castleberry was the last person she expected to be thinking about as much as she was.
She took a deep breath and thumbed to the text messages.
She was shocked by the last one.