Follow a Wild Heart: A Christian Contemporary Western Romance Series

phone number on a napkin.
“Thank you. That’s very kind. We know where the ranch is. We used to go there for Christmas cookies when the kids were little. I’ll call you.” She handed Carli a scrap of paper in return and said, “Here’s my name and number.”
“Great. Hope to see you out there.” Carli turned to Nathan. “Are you ready?”
Carli gathered her bag and followed Nathan to his truck. “I really miss working with kids. Did I ever mention I was part owner of a horse training business back in Georgia? I gave lessons and took kids to horse shows. I’d like to start a riding school here. What do you think?”
“I gotta say, you were really good with that girl. I kinda wanted to mind my own business.”
“Too many of us look the other way. It’s easy to do. I am drawn to that girl, Nate. I completely understand what’s going on in her head. Maybe I should start giving lessons again.”
With a kind smile, he said, “You’re right, of course. You just want to take on the world, don’t ya? I’ll help you with whatever program you want to start, but have you considered the liability of kids riding the ranch’s horses? There’s so much to consider. And thanks for having coffee with me, by the way.”
“The coffee was good, but I’m gonna need something a bit more substantial for lunch, cowboy. Like a hamburger. Aren’t you starving?”
He laughed. “Actually, I could eat. It’s been a long morning already. I thought you were some kind of health nut, like protein powders and vegetables I’ve never heard of. Stuff like that.”
“Not always. Today, give me some good Texas beef.”
Nathan’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and then clicked it off.
“Answer that, if you need to,” Carli offered.
“It’s just Dad. Whatever it is can wait because I don’t want to go back.” With that he put his cell phone into the middle console of the pickup cab and closed the lid.
Nathan pulled into the Dixie Maid where they ordered greasy burgers and shared tater tots, hot and crispy.
Conversation during lunch was lighter, but still friendly. They drove back to the ranch in silence as Carli kept thinking about the troubled young girl. She wanted to do something to help that family, but was it too bold to butt into their business?
Just before Carli could open the door to step out of Nathan’s pickup truck at the Olsen headquarters, he put his hand on hers. She thought for a moment he might lean in and kiss her. He wore a deep frown etched on his face with a look of concern.
“What if you find him, then what?”
“You mean my father? Then nothing. I haven’t thought that far.”
“This is huge, Carli. You have to take it slow.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks for the coffee and lunch, and for listening. It was a nice morning.”
“You never told me his name.”
“Miller. The family’s name is Miller, and the name on my birth certificate is Taylor.” She took a deep breath to still her heart. “My birth father’s name is Taylor Miller.”
Saying his name aloud caused a reaction. Was it nervousness? Scared anticipation? Eagerness? Fear of the unknown or sheer terror of opening this door into her past?
Never in a million years had she ever considered the possibility of knowing that name.

Chapter Four
At the back of her grandparents’ ranch house was a small room with a corner fireplace and two walls lined with bookshelves. The other walls were covered with faded photographs of people smiling and laughing at various horse events, shadow boxes holding tarnished silver buckles, and award plaques from various rodeos. The framed artwork featured several black and white penciled sketches with original signatures, some autographed “To Jean and Ward”. In this room Carli set up a home office.
She moved a small, solid oak table from the master bedroom and took the decorative chair covered in cowhide from its spot next to the fireplace in the front room. Surprisingly, her grandparents had a satellite and Internet connection at the headquarters, so she was in business. She liked the coziness of the room as logs crackled in the corner wood burning stove, and evidence of her grandparents’ lives surrounding her on all four walls. This one room reminded her of her small home in Georgia, cozy. The sprawling ranch house she had inherited overwhelmed her at times.
Right now, she had a mission. After saying the name of her birth father out loud to Nathan, she was ready to dive deeper into finding him. Maybe God would guide her. Was this something she should pray about? Remembering what Lola had told her, to “pray without ceasing”, Carli whispered a prayer, hoping she was doing the right thing. She was unsure in her newfound journey of faith, but she was trying to give her worries to God as Lola kept reminding her. Her ranch foreman’s wife was not only a good cook, but she had turned into a valuable spiritual guide as well.
Carli couldn’t deny the aching need to know more. Since she found the birth certificate and learned his name, the mystery surrounding the circumstance of her birth parents was on her mind constantly. She opened her laptop and clicked on the heritage website to begin the search. With a yellow pad and pen beside the computer, she felt organized and confident which gave her courage to learn more about her past.
The same questions kept swirling through her head. Who was Taylor Miller? Where had he gone? Alive or dead? There must’ve been tens of thousands of people in the United States with the surname Miller and first name Taylor, male and female. Carli would have to narrow it down. She knew the names of her birth mother’s side but wasn’t sure she could find the right Miller family.
“Okay. Male. Texas. Over forty years old,” she said aloud, and with a deliberate gesture, hit Enter. There was no middle name on the birth certificate, maybe