At Close Range Read Free Page A

take over again. Her leg lowered and crossed again. He resisted the urge to look beneath the table to see if her toes even touched the floor.
    She asked, “What was it that you liked the sound of?”
    The miracles—and you, he almost said, lured by her eyes into telling more unvarnished truth. “The kids. Taking foster kids and orphans, giving them a working ranch and home environment. Letting them have halfa chance before sending them out on their own,” he said.
    He’d wanted, perhaps needed, to come to work there because the tabloids and news features referred to the place as a ranch of miracles. When cynical journalists waxed ecstatic, a huge kernel of truth must lie within the story. And one truth was obvious, the Rancho Milagro partners took in the strays of the world and offered them new lives.
    He asked, “How many do you have now?”
    â€œWhat? Oh, children, you mean. For a minute, I thought you meant miracles.” She stopped on a rueful smile, drew a deep breath and continued, “We only have seven so far. Two are already adopted by Jeannie and Chance—Dulce and José—but they take lessons with the others.”
    â€œYou already have teachers, then?”
    â€œOnly one, Melanie Jorgensen, and she’s not here yet. She’s arriving in the fall.” She released a slight smile, as if remembering Melanie Jorgensen and liking the memory. “In the meantime, we’ve all been pitching in for various subjects.” She made a face as if the classes weren’t going well. “Right now, we’re on home-school status because it’s too far to ship the children into Carlsbad schools and because the children we have now are all somewhat behind in their schooling.”
    â€œSo this would be a temporary arrangement?”
    He realized his question was inept when she gave him a blank stare. “Temporary? No. Oh, you mean about the home schooling. Again, no.”
    He loved the way she couched every answer in formal terms, as if he might misconstrue the slightestnuance of what she said. It was one of her trademarks on the radio, the bit they advertised before her golden voice came on. When Corrie Stratton says it’s true, it’s a fact.
    The woman with the golden voice and truth in her words tilted her head at him. “Eventually we’d like our own status as an official school. But that’s a far piece down the road, as they say around here. With the home-school status, however, and with certified teachers, we can still get these kids well grounded in what they need to know to get good college placements.”
    Her feet crept to the chair seat again. He was sure she was unaware of the fact that one of her arms wrapped around her knees, drawing them to her chest. He was also sure she was utterly unaware how attractive she was.
    â€œThat’s the object, then?” he asked.
    She frowned and looked a question at him.
    â€œWhat you would want from a teacher?”
    â€œI see,” she said as carefully as she had before. “I’m not exactly sure what Leeza or Jeannie would say in answer to that. From my perspective, I think what we want is someone who will be surrogate parent, teacher, friend and mentor with a bit of a kindly uncle thrown in.”
    â€œA teacher of many hats,” he said, and leaned back in the chair, relaxed for the first time since he’d driven onto the ranch.
    She smiled at him—a bit wistfully, he thought. “It’s a dream, I know. But…”
    â€œOne that’s already working.” Abruptly, it wasn’t just the job he wanted, but to reassure her that theranch-cum-children’s-home dream was already coming true.
    â€œYes,” she said, and gave him the most genuine smile she’d managed with him so far—except when she’d expressed her wish for a miracle.
    He felt that smile like a fever coming on, making him feel hot and restless.
    â€œSo far