Page 57 of Love, Lies, and Whiskey

“You gotta be stupid to do drugs or end up in prison.”

Doc shook his head. “No, you don’t. Sometimes it’s the circumstances you were brought up in. It’s stealing to put food on the table, or growing up in a house full of drugs, where there’s no escape, or suffering a life event that throws them over the edge, like grief or losing their job and their house. You can’t know what someone has been through until you’ve asked.”

“Well, you said they fell right back into old habits. What does that tell you?”

“The important thing is what it told my parents.” Doc picked up another load of wood. “My father realized that many of the people he was hiring had no family or friends. No support system. They’d lost their support while their lives were in turmoil, so after they left the ranch each night, they had no one telling them they’d done a good job, or they were better than where they came from. They had no purpose.”

Lucas tossed the wood he was carrying into the truck. “What does that mean?”

“It means they were working to make ends meet, but they had no connection to that work. It was just a job, and it wasn’t helping them heal the relationships they’d lost or find their way back into society. Luckily, my parents realized those people needed more than money. They needed help and guidance. They needed a purpose for the work they were doing on the ranch, and they needed a reason to work on themselves, too.”

“I don’t get it.” Lucas tossed another plank into the truck bed.

“After my mom graduated and did all the things she needed to do in order to open a practice, they expanded Redemption Ranch to help people as well as horses. They added therapeutic services and came up with programs to help people of all ages. Even kids your age.” As they grabbed a few more planks, he said, “Our clients live and work on the ranch, and they attend therapy to work on themselves. But if you ask me, one of the most important things that our ranch does is give them a sense of family.”

“But they’re paying you, right? That’s not really family.”

“Clients don’t pay a penny. We run on grants and donations.” He tossed the last board into the truck. “They become family because when you live and work together, that’s what happens. I can’t remember a time when there weren’t twenty or thirty people around our tables at mealtime.”

He crossed his arms. “You eat with them?”

“Our whole family does, and so does everyone who works or lives there, and some people who don’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Birdie comes by when she can, and my cousin Rebel is there all the time. And anyone who works at the ranch or goes through one of our programs is family by the time they leave, and they’re always welcome back. Even if only for a visit.”

“That’s so weird.” They headed over to get drinks.

“It’s not traditional, that’s for sure.” Doc grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and tossed one to Lucas. “But we’ve helped hundreds of people find a new lease on life, and many have stayed on even after they were done with the program.”

“So, your mom and Dare are therapists on the ranch?”

“That’s right. Ezra, too.” He took a drink. “He went through one of our programs as a kid after his mother abandoned him and his father. He became a therapist to help other kids, and he and his little boy, Gus, have lived on the ranch for years. Now Ezra’s engaged to my sister Sasha. She’s an equine rehabilitation therapist, which means she helps the horses heal.”

“What does Cowboy do?”

“He manages the ranch hands. Our team also includes a residential manager and a cook, two on-call physicians, and a handful of other staff, and they’re all family.”

“That’s a lot of people to call family.”

“It is, but it’s good to have family. You should come by sometime. I’ll show you around, and you can decide for yourself. We work hard, and we give each other shit, but we play hard, too. We’ve got a paintball field, and everyone plays. Even my parents and Gus, who’s only five.”

Lucas choked on his water and coughed. “You let him play paintball?”

“Heck yeah. We never leave anyone out. We’re all careful with him, of course.”

“I wasn’t allowed to play until I was thirteen.”

Doc grinned. “We run things a little differently at our place. If you come by, you can meet Dare’s wife, Billie. She teaches kids your age to ride motocross. She’s got a racetrack on the ranch.”

Shock shimmered in his eyes. “No way. Do you think she would teach me to ride?”

“Probably, but you’d have to get the okay from your mom.”

“She lets me ride bulls. She’ll probably be thrilled about me riding a motocross bike.”

Doc knew Juliette might have hesitations because of what happened to Eddie, but Lucas didn’t need to hear about that. Billie would keep him safe. Doc would make sure of it. “You’re probably right.”