Chapter 12
I’VE GOT A chauffeur. Mrs. Olsen insisted. Just deal with it,” Naomi told her brother when she went into the motel room to collect her things. Ethan was surprisingly subdued about it.
He moved the window curtain aside to look out at her car. “Good. I’ll be able to floor it and he’ll keep up. Unlike you. You won’t go more than five miles over the speed limit.” He snorted and let the curtain fall back into place. “Trent, right? Is he their son?”
“You remembered his name? Wow. No, he’s … he’s a cowboy from Oklahoma. Nice guy. He can stay in the camper when we get to your place … but I was thinking maybe he could meet Dad and we’d get an objective opinion. You know?”
Ethan made a face. “Whatever.”
Ten minutes later she’d packed her clothes, gathered her things, and checked out. She put her stuff in the back seat next to the small bag Trent had brought, climbed into the passenger seat, and smiled at Trent.
“All set. I really don’t think you needed to do this … but I’m going to enjoy the long trip a whole lot more with a human to talk to.” She giggled, adjusted her seat, and buckled up. “Follow that car, driver.”
“I’m on it,” Trent said, turning down the heater. “Oh, shoot, I forgot I promised to drive Wyatt to his job next Monday. Will we be back by then?”
“Oh, yeah, definitely. Um … I guess I should tell you why I have to go back.” Naomi took her gloves off and laid them in her lap.
She looked out the passenger window then glanced over at Trent.
His eyes were steady on the road. She focused her eyes on her brother’s taillights ahead of them.
She summed up the reason and gave him a little more backstory on her family life, how hard her father had taken his wife’s death, the fact that he had had some PTSD from his time serving the country, and she even laid a little blame on her brother and herself for not being there enough for him.
“I get the picture,” Trent nodded. He was keeping the SUV a safe six car lengths behind Ethan.
Naomi sighed and leaned back against the seat, watching the landscape blur past in muted tones of winter gray and white. “It’s hard, you know? Watching someone you love turn into a shadow of who they were. And feeling like maybe it’s your fault. Or at least, like you could’ve done more.”
Trent glanced at her, his expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I get that.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You do?”
He nodded, his hands steady on the wheel. “My dad … he tried so hard to make our ranch successful. But the economy, you know, things got bad. He lost it all. It broke him in ways I didn’t understand at the time. I left when I should have stayed. I’ve been sending money back, but it’s not enough.”
Naomi frowned. “But you visit, right?”
“I did. Once. I tell myself it’s too far to drive or I’ll get home for Christmas next year or I’ll swing by on my way to Texas.” He hesitated, then added, “I miss my family … but … I’m kind of like the Prodigal Son. But … after something Wyatt said to me … I realize I miss my church, too.”
She studied his profile, the strength in his jawline, the way his eyes seemed to look farther than the road. “You’re a Christian? Talk to me about that.”
He shrugged. “Not much to talk about. I’ve had my share of doubts and reservations.
I guess I sort of rebelled as a teen, but now, after witnessing the glory of the big Montana sky, the obvious existence of God, and listening to the Olsens and going to their church …
well, yeah, to answer your question, I’m a Christian. And you?”
“Yeah, my mom took us to church. I used to read my Bible all the time.” She bit her lip, thinking. “So … you like Montana.”
“Sure. I’ve liked every state I’ve been to.” He held up one hand and counted off by raising each finger. “Oklahoma, Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana. I sort of made a diagonal line going northwest.” He drew a line in the air. “If I keep going, I should end up in Alberta, Canada.”
He took his eyes off the road for a second and looked at her. “But now I’m going southeast. With you.” He glanced at the console. “Warm enough?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”
Naomi tilted her head. “Did you mostly do cattle ranches?”
“Yup.”
“So, how do you like the Faithful Hearts Ranch with no cattle to round up?”
Trent chuckled. “It’s fine. Winter on a farm is easier than winter on a cattle ranch. But it’s a little bit boring. I was getting itchy feet so this road trip is perfect for me. Does your job take you to cattle farms?”
Naomi smiled. “No, my expertise is all in sustainable farming practices.”
“Any hobbies?”
“Who has time for hobbies? But … I like to read.”
“Me, too. Sci-fi and … uh, the Farmer’s Almanac.” He laughed and they shared their likes and dislikes in the Sci-fi genre for the next fifty miles.
The road seemed slick and icy, requiring careful navigation, especially around winding mountain passes and through narrow valleys, but Trent kept up with Ethan and Ethan did not drive as fast as Naomi feared he would.
For a short while snow flurries reduced their visibility, making it feel like they were navigating through a snow globe.
Small towns and isolated ranches dotted the route.
A comfortable silence had settled between them for several miles before Naomi spoke again. “Trent, do you think my dad can get better? I mean, if it’s really as bad as Ethan says?”
He took a deep breath, considering his words. “I think anyone can heal, given the right support. But it takes time. Patience. And a lot of prayer.”
She nodded slowly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her glove. “Do you pray a lot?”
“Not like I should,” he admitted. “Not always long prayers, just touching base … praying for my family and thanking the Lord for another day. What about you?”
Naomi hesitated. “Not as much as I should, either. I used to, but … it’s hard when things feel so out of control. Like maybe God’s not listening.”
Trent’s voice was gentle. “He’s listening. Sometimes it’s just hard to hear the answers through the noise.”
She stared out the window, his words resonating. “Maybe I need to quiet the noise, then.”
Trent glanced at her with a faint smile.
For the rest of the drive, their conversation ebbed and flowed, dipping into lighter topics—favorite movies, childhood stories, and Naomi’s growing fondness for Ruby.
She told him about Ethan’s job working from home and setting his own hours; how she lived in his three-bedroom home when she wasn’t on the road; and that their father lived right next door though she didn’t see him that much.
By the time they stopped for gas and a quick bite to eat, Naomi realized she felt lighter, as if sharing her worries with someone who truly listened had lifted a burden she hadn’t even realized she was carrying.
As they pulled back onto the road, she looked at Trent and found herself wondering how someone so grounded and steady—and homeless!—had come into her life exactly when she needed it most.
***
Trent’s nerves had settled as soon as they set off on this journey.
Wasn’t life completely unpredictable? This trip was akin to an out-of-body experience.
Who was he? When had he become so loquacious?
He had uttered more words in the last two hours than he had spoken in a year.
This woman … whew, she had him revealing things about himself that he would have sworn no one could extract if they pulled out his fingernails.
As the miles ticked by, Trent kept one hand steady on the wheel while the other rested lightly on his thigh, fingers occasionally tapping out some random rhythm. His nerves had settled once they hit the highway, but a different kind of energy hummed beneath the surface.
Who am I? This wasn’t like him—talking so much, sharing things he hadn’t even fully unpacked in his own mind.
Naomi had some kind of effect on him. Her questions weren’t prying, just thoughtful.
She didn’t push, but somehow, he found himself opening up anyway, like a rusty gate creaking wide after years of disuse.
She was something else. Smart, funny, full of stories that hinted at a life more complicated than she let on. Every now and then, she’d look over at him, her green eyes catching the light in a way that made his pulse jump. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention—or the ease that came with it.
He glanced at her briefly, watching her stare out at the snow-speckled landscape. She looked deep in thought, her hands resting in her lap, her gloves forgotten on the console between them. Trent smiled faintly. “Penny for your thoughts.”
She turned toward him, startled out of her reverie. “What?”
“You’ve been quiet for a while. Must be something good going on in there.”
She laughed softly. “Oh, just … everything. My dad. Ethan. This trip. You.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Me?”
Naomi flushed slightly, then shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t expecting to feel so … comfortable. You’ve been easy to talk to. It’s nice.”
Trent felt his face heat and immediately looked back at the road. “Well, I’m glad. You’ve got a way of pulling words out of me I didn’t know I had. People usually think I’m shy or withdrawn, or what I like to think of as reserved.”
She grinned. “Reserved? I honestly hadn’t noticed that. You speak up as much as Holger … but not as much as Colton.” She laughed. “I wouldn’t call you shy.”
“Shy, quiet, boring … I’ve heard it all.”
Naomi tilted her head, her smile softening. “I’d say you’re the opposite: sociable, outgoing … friendly.”
“The opposite of boring is exciting, just sayin’.”
Silence filled the cab again, but it wasn’t awkward. It was the kind of silence that was cozy, with no pressure to fill the space with unnecessary words or forced conversation. Simply being together was enough.
Trent shifted in his seat, putting a second hand on the wheel.
What had made him offer to drive her? He barely knew this woman, yet she had him wrapped up in knots, thinking things he wasn’t sure he should be thinking.
Now he knew how a roped calf felt … all trussed up and not knowing what would happen next.
She was leaving, though. Eventually. Once this consultation was over, she’d pack up and head back to her life. That thought settled in his chest like a lead weight.
“What about you?” he asked suddenly.
Naomi blinked. “What about me?”
“What are you going to do after all this? After your dad, the farm consultation … everything?”
She hesitated, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “I don’t know. Keep on consulting, I guess. It’s what I do. It’s what I’m good at. Spring and summer are always very busy for me.”
“Do you like it?”
The question seemed to catch her off guard. “I … yeah. Most of the time. It’s rewarding. But sometimes I wonder if I’m just running around fixing other people’s farms because I’m too scared to buy one of my own.”
Trent frowned, her words hitting closer to home than he expected. “Maybe you’re not scared. Maybe you’re just waiting for the right time. Or the right place.”
Or, he thought, the right person.
Naomi looked at him, her expression unreadable. “Do you think this could be the right time? I mean, I have the money.”
He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the wheel. “You do? Must be nice. Well, what are you looking for?”
“If we have time, I’ll show you.”
The silence that followed was heavy with possibilities, but Trent didn’t push it. He couldn’t suddenly admit that owning a farm was his dream, too.
As they neared their destination, he felt a pang of something he didn’t want to name.
He was already more invested in Naomi than he had any right to be.
This trip wasn’t only about helping her anymore—it was about figuring out if the path they were on was going to lead somewhere.
Somewhere permanent. It was all happening too fast.
When Ethan’s car finally pulled into a long driveway, Trent slowed down and took a deep breath. “So, this is your brother’s place?”
Naomi glanced at him, her expression soft. “Yup. Thank you, Trent. For doing this.”
He nodded, his throat tight. “No problem.”
And as they climbed out of the car and into the biting Wyoming wind, Trent took a deep breath and looked around.
This wasn’t a farm or a ranch; it was more like a gentleman’s estate.
Maybe three acres, enough to have a couple of horses.
He scanned the area. Yup, city boys’ idea of the country life.
Each house similar, paved driveways, detached garage, small barn, close to town.
Definitely not what he’d want and he hoped this wasn’t Naomi’s dream either.