The other part of his reaction was harder to explain. It hadn’t happened when he spotted the drifter standing in the middle of the road, looking around him like a lost thing, no. It had happened when Leland had gotten close enough to see the flash in the drifter’s eyes, a spark of energy that exploded things in Leland’s chest he didn’t quite know what to do with.
Again, he should have offered the drifter a glass of water, at least, before he’d sent him packing. And maybe he envied the drifter, just a little bit, the freedom he seemed to have to just turn and walk away, going wherever the wind took him.
It wasn’t that Leland didn’t love his job at the ranch, because he did. He loved everything about it, from the time he got up in the morning, to when he went to bed at night. He’d gained even more responsibility while Bill had been recovering in the hospital from his near heart attack, and now, even with Bill getting better and taking back some of his old tasks, running the ranch was what Leland was made for. Bill often said Leland should delegate more. Bill was probably right, but today wasn’t that day, and tomorrow didn’t look so good for that, either.
“Mr. Tate?” said a voice behind him. “Excuse me, Mr. Tate? You got a minute?”
Leland tugged the reins on Gwen’s neck and looked down to see Clay, one of the ranch hands, holding his straw cowboy hat in his hands as he looked up. He was an eager young man, easy on the eyes, and a hard worker, too. He’d only started the summer before, though Leland remembered Clay had graduated from college and was now considering starting a ranch of his own, and was doing everything possible to gain as much experience as he could.
“Yes, Clay,” he said, focusing on the bright-faced young man. “You can call me Leland, don’t forget. What can I do for you? And put your hat back on. It might be only June, but it’s too sunny and hot for such niceties.”
“Maddy said to tell you that the guy from the grounds maintenance company called.” Clay put his hat back on, straightening it with an efficient tug and a bright, cheery smile. “And she said to tell you they’re raising their rates.”
“What?” he asked, going over the figures in his mind as he settled back in the saddle. “By how much, did she say?”
“She didn’t say exact amounts, but she said specifically that the rate for hand scything was going to be double what it was last year and that we probably can’t afford them.”
While Clay looked at him as though he really hoped Leland wouldn’t be mad at him for being the bearer of bad news, he considered the matter. He’d tried to contract out some of the groundskeeping to save more experienced hands for the work that applied directly to the ranch, taking care of the horses and tending to guests. But it wasn’t a good, long-term plan because though the ranch hands and the trail boss and even the blacksmith were able to step up and help when they could, it wasn’t an efficient way to run a ranch.
He’d already talked to Maddy about this, that hiring a single groundskeeper would be better than contracting out to a company. Plus, the work would be done to the higher standards ranch guests expected, so he needed to keep trying.
“Can you take a message to Maddy for me, when you find her?” he asked, knowing already that Clay would be on the task right away. “Tell her to call Templeton’s in Chugwater and ask them to open the position for one groundskeeper again. She’ll know what to tell them about the skills we’re looking for.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Tate, I mean, Leland,” said Clay with a friendly smile. “Is there anything else you need?”
“Yes, please,” he said, returning Clay’s smile. Would that he had a hundred more like Clay on the ranch. “We’ve got new guests arriving tomorrow. Most are staying in the lodge, and some are in the cabins. Can you check with Stella in guest services to make sure everything’s set up? I’m sure it will be, but as the guests won’t all be in one place, it’d be nice to have it confirmed.”
“I’ve already done that.” Clay reached into his pocket and handed Leland a folded piece of paper, reaching up. “Here’s Stella’s checklist. She says everything is ready. And she says, though I’m not supposed to tell you, that she’s glad there're no kids this week, ‘cause she needs a break.”
Clay winked at him, and made Leland wish he was a few years younger to be able to follow up on that kind of flirting. Not that he’d ever get involved with another employee on the ranch. But it was young, vibrant men like Clay who kept reminding Leland he was on his own, and working away toward a future that didn’t involve anyone else. What would it be worth in the end if he had nobody to share it with? But, what with putting in twelve-hour days pretty much every day of the week, he was working too hard to worry about that now.
“She loves kids,” Leland said with a laugh, pushing those darker thoughts away. “So do the wranglers and the cook and the trail boss and even the blacksmith.”
“Jasper, you mean?” Clay tilted back his hat and snorted. “He hates everybody, don’t you know that? Everybody.”
“Beneath that hard exterior lies a heart of butter, I assure you,” Leland said, and though he tried to keep a straight face, it was hard.
Jasper produced excellent work as both blacksmith and farrier, and knew how to shoe a horse like nobody’s business. He was also willing to do demonstrations for local kid’s groups, pioneer re-enactors, Girl Scout troops, and the Fresh Air people that brought city kids from Cheyenne for a bit of country life.
Though Jasper pretended he hated doing the demos, hated donning frontier garb to replicate the excitement of frontier days, he always provided top-notch performances and everybody always came away happy, the clang of the hammer on the anvil ringing in their ears. Leland’s next task with him was to get him to take on one of the parolees from the ex-con rehabilitation program Bill had decided to participate in, on account of the tax break benefits it would bring.
“I doubt that,” said Clay, shaking his head. “Okay, I’m off. There’s a load of salt blocks coming this afternoon and those gently used saddles you ordered. I plan to be at the barn when they get here.”
“Sounds good and thank you,” Leland said, clucking to Gwen to soothe her. “But make sure you take a break for lunch. If there’s a delay in the delivery, have them call me on my cell, and I’ll take care of it.”
“Will do, Leland.”
With a tip of his straw hat, Clay was off, hustling down the dirt road to the office where Maddy was probably back from her errand.
Maddy was the ranch’s administrator, part-time nurse, dance organizer, and a whole host of functions that, once she’d done them, the ranch simply could not do without. She’d usually swing by the local farms once or twice a week to see if they had fruit and vegetables for staff and guests.
Maddy had a thing for farmers, it seemed. Luckily there were a few of them in the area, all vying for her attention and willing to sell her tender young onions and potatoes for pennies. Plus, the guests seemed to like the local produce, and the ranch was known for providing the best at their tables, so he was glad Maddy was willing to go the extra mile. Everybody on the ranch was, it seemed, even if they groused about it like Jasper did. Or didn’t say anything, and just got to work, like Levi, the cook did. Leland was lucky to have them working for him, and he’d do whatever it took to keep them.
5
Leland
Leland trotted Gwen up the road and through the trees to the dining hall where Mr. and Mrs. Ayers were still in residence on the front porch, making the most of their country adventure, as they called it. Staff had been good at keeping the couple well supplied with martinis watered down to an appropriate level, so there was that to be grateful for.
