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can find something for her to do in the house.”
    “I’m used to hard work, and with spring comin’ on, an extra hand might come in useful,” Emily said. “I’ve had to be inside more than outside the past few weeks and I don’t mind gettin’ my hands dirty.”
    “I’m sorry about your grandpa,” Greg said.
    When she looked across the table at him, his expression said that he understood her pain. “Thank you. He was sick for a long time, so it wasn’t a surprise.”
    “But we’re never ready to let go of those we love.” His deep drawl was sincere.
    “No, we are not,” Clarice said.
    “Nana, I can’t wait for you to see this new bull,” Greg changed the subject abruptly.
    Emily understood his pain in that moment. Something had happened in his past that had been difficult to face. The death of his grandfather? A lost love?
    Clarice inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “Greg is like his grandpa. Lester was all business.”
    “Grandpa was a man’s man,” Greg said.
    “Yes, he was. I loved him deeply, and we had a lot of wonderful years together, but he was not a romantic soul,” Clarice said softly.
    “He brought you wildflowers,” Dotty piped up. “Every spring he brought you wildflowers.”
    Clarice smiled brightly. “Yes, he did, for my birthday. Lester loved deeply, but he wasn’t one much for speaking his mind about all that folderol and payin’ endless compliments, as he used to say.”
    Max, the ranch foreman, peeked inside the dining room from the kitchen. “Lester was a businessman. That’s where Bart got his business sense. How much chicken did you fry, Dotty?”
    “Enough to feed you if you want to eat, but you’re going to go get your own plate,” she answered.
    “Good-lookin’ bull out there in the trailer,” Max said over his shoulder.
    “See? The men on this ranch are all business,” Clarice said.
    “Nana, you are just as business-minded as I am,” Greg told her.
    Clarice passed the chicken platter back to her. “You’d best get what you want. When Max gets started it looks like a dead chicken yard by the time he’s finished.”
    “Don’t be tellin’ tales on me.” Max carried a plate, napkin, and silverware to the table. “Greg can outdo me any day when it comes to fried chicken.”
    “But not steak. I love steak, but Max could eat a whole bull,” Greg teased.
    “Not in one sitting, but hey, like the wise man said, a person could eat an elephant a bite at a time.”
    ***
    Emily smiled at the banter. She’d loved that part of holidays and Sundays at Taylor’s place most of all. The big family and all the noise left her knowing that she belonged right there in Happy. But the sicker that Gramps got, the fewer trips they made from one ranch to the other, and she didn’t even realize how much she had missed it until that very evening.
    “So you have a ranch and you’re on vacation?” Greg asked.
    She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “I have a hundred acres. It used to be three sections back before Gramps got sick. It’s hardly enough to be called a ranch, but it’s a starting point to rebuild it. I was born on that land and it’s my home, but right now I’m glad to be away from it for a few weeks.”
    He stretched his legs out under the table and his knee bumped hers. “Sorry about that. I’ve been driving all day and feel like I could stretch to the stars.”
    “No problem. I felt like that yesterday when I drove all the way from Happy to Sherman,” she said.
    Her mouth was dry so she took a couple of long drinks of her sweet tea. Greg Adams might be business on the outside, but those eyes and his smile said there was a sweet, sensitive man down underneath that tough exterior. One that had known pain and suffering as well as joys and happiness and who loved his big ranch as much as she loved what was left of hers. No one could endure the hard work of ranching without loving what they did.
    “I’m glad that we’ve got someone to help us,”