Rancher For The Holidays (Love Inspired) Read Online Free Page A

Ben spooned her unwanted
pico de gallo
onto another quesadilla and polished it off while he waited. He didn’t think she’d ever finish chewing and swallowing.
    When she finally did, she must have forgotten his question. “Were you serious about getting involved with the Candelaria ministry?”
    Ben sipped his water. “Sure. What exactly do you do?”
    “All kinds of stuff. I was at the craft store to pick up supplies for the ladies. A while back, a fabric store donated several sewing machines, and the ladies create some lovely handcrafts. Then several state-park gift shops sell the items on consignment.”
    Marley went on to tell how college students from Austin had built the little red barn he’d seen in the photograph. “It’s a reimbursement store stocked by volunteers, and one of the local women manages it. Everything is sold at cost, so they don’t have to deal with the whole sales-tax issue.”
    Ben squinted in disbelief. “Wait—you’re telling me there’s nowhere else in Candelaria to buy necessities?”
    “They have nothing. No stores, no gas stations, not even a real school anymore. The nearest town with shopping and schools is fifty miles away.”
    “Then why don’t they—”
    The server interrupted him to deliver their salads. Ben drizzled dressing over the lettuce and was about to pick up his knife and fork when he noticed Marley folding her hands.
    “Do you mind if I offer grace?”
    He should be used to this. Aunt Jane and Uncle Steve gave thanks before every meal, just as Ben’s parents had always done. Mealtime prayer was a ritual he’d let slide sometime during college. Guess he’d grown too complacent relying on himself to give the Lord any credit. But then, God had let Ben down too many times in the past couple of years.
    Awkwardly, he dropped his hands to his lap and waited while Marley whispered a simple but heartfelt prayer. Her ease with the words and the intimate tone of her voice suggested she felt totally comfortable conversing with the Lord.
    She finished, and Ben retrieved his fork. He almost hated to break the reverent silence. “That was...nice.”
    Marley smiled as she took a bite of salad. “Before the waiter came, you were about to ask me something.”
    It took him a moment to remember. “You said there’s nothing in Candelaria. So why don’t the people just move to a bigger town?”
    “First of all, no one ever talks about who or how many, but it’s likely some of these families crossed over illegally, so Border Patrol keeps a close eye on anyone coming or going. For another reason...” Marley pushed a tomato around her salad plate, her expression suggesting he could never understand. “Candelaria is home to these people. Whole families have grown up there or across the border in San Antonio del Bravo. They have pride in their history, a connectedness to their roots that—”
    She broke off abruptly and squeezed her eyes shut.
    “Marley?” Ben stretched his hand across the table to touch her wrist. His chest tightened when a tear slipped down her cheek.
    With a self-conscious laugh, she dabbed her face with her napkin. “Guess you can tell I’m rather passionate about this subject.”
    Ben had the feeling her tears stemmed from something deeper than altruism, but he didn’t know her well enough to pry. He was thankful the waiter returned at that moment to serve Marley’s entrée.
    “Do you need any steak sauce, ma’am?”
    “No, thanks. I’m sure it’s fine.” Anticipation filled her eyes, now as big as her dinner plate. She sliced off a juicy bite of rib eye.
    The tempting aroma of seared meat eclipsed any appetite Ben had for chopped salad. Fisting his knife and fork, he pinned Marley with his best imitation of a John Wayne stare. “Little missy, if you’re plannin’ on takin’ home any leftovers, you better guard that slab of beef with your life.”
    * * *
    Marley left the restaurant with a container packed with three quesadilla triangles,