The next morning after the boys went to school, Frank plopped into the chair in his father’s study, waiting for Peter McClain to look up from his spreadsheet. Their father was still involved in the running of the ranch even though Adam sat in the official chair in the main office.
Peter made a final notation, then set his pencil down and looked at his son. “And what can I do for you today?”
“Tiffani says a reporter’s coming out here to do a story on the ranch tomorrow. You approved that, right?”
“Of course. Tiffani cleared it with me as soon as she got the call.”
“I figured she did. I just . . . I don’t know. It’s such an odd thing for us to do, letting the press wander around.”
“I don’t think of one reporter as being ‘the press,’ do you?” Peter smiled. “I believe this article will do a lot of good for the ranch. It will showcase what we do here and tell people that there’s always hope in the world, even when we think there’s not.”
“But how do we know that’s how the article will be written?” Frank leaned forward on his elbows. “I hear bad stuff all the time about the negative spin journalists like to put on things. They’re interested in selling papers, not in telling the truth. If they make us out to be a bunch of crazies, how does that help the ranch?” He ran his hand through his hair. “Is your precog telling you anything?”
Peter sat back and regarded his son. “No, but my regular human being intuition is telling me that it’s going to be all right. Not everything has to come through a gift, son. You know that.”
“Yeah, I know,” Frank replied, but Peter continued as though Frank hadn’t spoken.
“Take your mother, for instance. She doesn’t have any gifts—at least, not the kind we have. And yet I’d put her intuition and her ability to love unconditionally right up there with Benjamin’s ability to grow things or Ephraim’s way with animals. That comes from the soul of a person, and everyone has a soul. You don’t need a gift for that.”
Frank nodded. He’d heard his father say as much before, but he still found it comforting when they could turn to their gifts for strength or verification. “I told Tiffani I’d stick around while the reporter is here so I could help her stay calm. She’s pretty freaked out, being shoved in the spotlight like this.”
Peter chuckled. “Yeah, that’s the thing about event coordinators. They do their best work behind the scenes so everything in front of the scenes looks good. This will turn out, though, and it will give her some of the credit she deserves. We’re still months out and yet she’s got this fundraiser more organized than any we’ve ever done.”
“And she makes me pretty happy, too.” A new voice spoke from the doorway, and Adam came in the room. “I heard you singing the praises of my new wife and I had to come chime in.”
“You heard us from your office?” Frank asked.
“No, I was grabbing cookies from the kitchen. My hearing’s not that good.” Adam took the other spare chair and crossed one ankle over his opposite knee. “So, where are we going to bury all the bodies while the reporter’s here?”
Peter shook his head with a smile. “We really don’t have anything to hide. We just won’t read anyone’s thoughts or have any visions or heal any broken bones while she’s here, that’s all.”
“Sounds pretty boring to me,” Frank said with a grin. “How long will she be here, anyway?”
Adam shrugged. “I don’t remember if Tiffani said.”
“I hope it’s not long. Otherwise, things are gonna be dull around here.” Frank stood up. “Catch you all later. I’ve got some fences to mend.” He left the house, detouring through the kitchen to grab some of those cookies Adam had been talking about, and deciding to pay one more call before heading out to the fence line.
“Knock knock,” he said, sticking his head into the office. Brittany looked up, her face relaxing when she saw him.
“Hey,” she said. “How’d you know I needed a cookie?” She took the one he was holding out to her. As soon as she bit into it, he sent her a wave of calm. He’d let her think the chocolate was making her feel better.
“In my experience, everyone always needs a cookie.” He leaned against the wall and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “I heard you talking to Natalie about your brother and sister yesterday. You seemed kind of stressed.”
“Yeah, I am. I know they’re just being typical kids, but they’re so irresponsible. They don’t do their chores and they seem to think I’m picking on them when I insist. This whole being a parent thing is hard. Especially when I’m not really their parent.”
“But you’re the very next-best thing, and you’re giving them a life they wouldn’t have without you.” Frank sent her another wave and watched as her shoulders relaxed. He’d love to pull out all the stress at once, like he had for Tiffani the night before, but there was a big difference—Tiffani knew he had that gift, and Brittany didn’t. He had to go slow with Brittany or he’d send her into shock or something.
She took a deep breath and sighed. “You’re right. Thanks—I don’t know what it is, but I always feel better after talking to you.”
He grinned. “Now that’s quite a compliment. Thank you.” He took a step toward the door, then paused. “You know, you can always come talk to me if you need to.”
“I would, but you seem to find me first. It’s kinda creepy. But in a cool way. Creepy cool. That’s a thing, right?”
He laughed. “I’m pretty sure it is.”
He was still chuckling a minute later as he crossed over to the barn to grab a horse. Creepy cool. He kind of liked that. He’d have to ask Ephraim if that could be his nickname.
***
The difficulty with Frank’s gift was that he didn’t have a specific job on the ranch. Adam was the psychiatrist—that one was a no-brainer. Every brother had their place, and then for some reason, Frank’s was to be in limbo. Gideon was being trained to do everything because he had each gift, but that was different—learning everything for a specific reason. Frank just did what he was told and went where he was needed. Good thing he’d been taught each ranch skill so he’d have that flexibility.
After the boys got home from school that afternoon, Frank and Gideon swung them by the main house so their mother, Lillian, could give them each a cookie and Hunter a pear, and then they headed over to the barn. The day before, they’d been helping Benjamin with the spring crop chores, so they were looking forward to a break from all that hard manual labor.
Ephraim met them with a grin. “Hey, boys. Ready to shovel some manure?”
Tyler’s eyes grew wide. “I thought the ranch hands shoveled the manure.”
“They do, and they will after this, but it’s something you should at least be familiar with. You’re not too good to get a little dirty, are you?”
Six faces looked up at him. “Uh, I don’t have a problem with dirt, but the smell . . . that’s something else,” Jose said, and everyone else nodded.
“Ever wonder why cowboys wear bandanas?” Ephraim asked.
“Because without them, they wouldn’t be cowboys?” Nick replied.
“Well, there’s that, but they’re also really useful. When a cowboy ties one around his neck, it keeps the sun off so he doesn’t get a bad sunburn there. Then he can pull it up to cover his nose and mouth when his horse is kicking up a lot of dust, and he can use it to block out bad smells. So here.” Ephraim went down the line, handing each boy a new bandana. “This was Maria’s idea, by the way. She thought you could all use a little more cowboy culture.”
“That’s because she has a thing for cowboys,” Michael muttered as he tied his on.
“Oh, yeah? Well, she’s helping raise the next generation of cowboys for girls who have a thing for them, then,” Ephraim said, chuckling.
“Don’t I get one?” Frank asked, holding out his hand.
“You’re going to shovel?” Ephraim lifted an eyebrow.
“Of course. Anything the boys can do, I can do,” Frank said, knowing all six boys were watching.
“Well, here you go, then,” Ephraim said, putting a bandana in his brother’s hand. “Although, I didn’t think you’d need one, considering that you already smell so sweet.”
“Ephraim,” Frank said in a warning tone.
Gideon chuckled. “What? Is that going to be a problem, Frank?”
“Just let it go, please.” Frank tied on his bandana. “Let’s do this thing.”
“Wait,” Jose said. “What does Ephraim mean, you smell sweet?”
Gideon jumped right into the conversation. “You know that old movie Lillian’s always watching? The one we get our names from? Well, in that movie, Frank was actually named after frankincense, which is a perfume.”
“And my brothers seem to think that’s so hilarious.” Frank clapped Gideon on the shoulder. “Thankfully, Lillian wasn’t that cruel and just named me Frank.”
The boys were laughing at the interplay between the brothers, egged on by Gideon, who was pointing at Frank and making cry-baby motions with his hands.
“Manure, anyone?” Frank asked, picking up a shovel and walking toward the first stall. Dealing with animal doo-doo was going to be a lot more pleasant than what he was currently experiencing in front of the barn.