Monica nodded and sniffed, and he helped her mount up, figuring that at least this final lesson might help her not be afraid to try again, if she ever decided to live out more of her cowgirl fantasies. Gathering Old Blue’s reins in a way he hoped was an example to Jamie how to do it, he clucked to the gelding and began walking. Behind him, leading Gwen in a hopelessly loose manner, came Jamie, kicking up dust as he went.
“Let’s go,” said Leland. “I think the horses have had enough for one day.”
They walked along the dirt road through the trees to the main parking lot, where the Ayers and their driver and their big black car were waiting. From the looks of it, all their luggage had been loaded, for which he was very grateful to somebody. He’d find out who and then profusely thank them. Clay, probably.
“Is she all right?” asked Mrs. Ayers, coming up in a rush, waving her arms. “Tell me, Leland, is she hurt?”
“She’s all right, folks,” he said, pulling Old Blue to a stop.
Monica slid off the horse and ran into her parents’ arms as though she’d returned from a long and arduous journey. The Ayers petted her and cooed over her while Leland waited with the mare.
“Looks like the horse bolted when he got stung by a wasp,” he said. “She had a scare, and I apologize for that, but your daughter is okay and the horse is okay.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tate,” said Mr. Ayers, his face red from drinking.
The wasp nest was a problem, and Leland fumed at himself for having missed it. Usually he took a horse from the barn or the herd each evening, saddled up, and rode around the perimeter of the main part of the ranch. Partly the ride was for his own pleasure, but he took time to check everything out, from the state of fence lines that bordered the property, and along the creek, looking for anything that needed fixing or was out of place.
Still, because of his lack of time to go riding, he’d missed the nest. He’d have to take time to find the nest, now, and destroy it before another one of the horses or one of the guests got stung.
Mr. Ayers talked to his driver as they walked with Monica to their large black car in the parking lot. Meanwhile, Jamie waited with Gwen, letting the horse slobber on his shirt in a way that showed he wasn’t afraid of horses, at least, and knew how to stand still around them.
“I’ll take that horse now,” he said, going up to Jamie with Old Blue in tow.
Jamie handed him Gwen’s reins, and in his eyes was a question about the job he’d asked for earlier. There was an agency in Chugwater for jobs, and Jamie already knew that. Leland had set up hard guidelines about how they would staff the ranch, so even though he felt bad Jamie had a good distance to walk back into town, Leland had to shake his head.
Just before Jamie turned to go, a brisk breeze stirred his dark hair into his sad eyes, and Leland felt like the worst of assholes. But rules were rules, and he needed to keep the ranch running or everyone who worked for him would lose their jobs, and Bill would risk losing his beloved land. With all that at stake, Leland made himself stay silent as Jamie walked away, and walked away himself, leading Old Blue back to the barn.
Just as he got there, up the road came Bill driving his old blue Chevy truck, bouncing to a stop in the small gravel area next to the barn. He strode over to Leland with his half-hitch limp, his felt ranch hat tipped back on his head.
“What’s this I hear,” said Bill as Clay came up and took Old Blue into the barn. “I was just on the phone with Maddy, and she says there was a runaway. And who was that kid?” Bill jerked his thumb over his shoulder to point at the direction Jamie had gone, as though he’d just ghosted into the trees to disappear from sight.
“Old Blue got stung by a wasp,” said Leland. He took off his hat to wipe at his forehead with his sleeve, then put his hat back on again. “The kid was one of the drifters Eddy Piggot’s been sending me this week. Mind you, this one closed the gate in time to keep Old Blue from running off, and then caught Monica before she broke her neck.”
“Sounds like he did us a favor.” Bill looked at Leland with narrowed eyes, as though taking in the story while having all kinds of ideas about it in his own mind. “What did he want, anyway?”
“A job, like the other drifters Eddy Piggot sent us,” said Leland, half-shrugging. “But I sent him away. We go through Templeton’s, you know that.”
“I do know it.” Bill nodded firmly. “But it sounds like he did us a favor. And Maddy says the bid for that groundskeeper contract is a big no, so why don’t we hire the kid and pay him under the table? We’ll save some money that way.”
“You know we can’t do that, Bill,” said Leland. He shook his head because paying under the table was no way to run a business, even if the idea appealed to him, too. What’s more, Jamie had been different from the other drifters, had remained polite even when the answer was no. There’d been such hope in his eyes, such an eagerness to earn his keep that now, standing there with Bill and mulling the idea over in his mind, a sense of regret filled him that he’d not already said yes to Jamie’s request.
“Rules, rules,” said Bill with a rough laugh, eyeing Leland from beneath the brim of his battered felt hat.
“I don’t have a stick up my ass, at least not all the time,” said Leland in his own defense.
“Sometimes, young fellow, you do.”
Bill let this idea float on the air for a bit as he looked out over the slope of the hill and across the river to where the sun blazed on the low plateau and the spring-green hills that seemed to stretch out forever beneath the blue sky. Behind the foothills, Iron Mountain pushed rocky shoulders, cutting a hard horizon line. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and the air was sharp and clear and smelled of pine trees and young aspen leaves.
Leland was lucky to live where he did, lucky to have grown up with supportive parents who loved him, lucky to have a job he adored. He was also lucky to work for a guy like Bill, who knew how to point out what worked and what didn’t, never pulling any punches, but without being cruel. And now, as he always did, he was telling Leland without telling him that he needed to change his mind.
“What if—” Leland felt his heart start to beat a little faster at the idea forming in his mind, which felt new and fresh. “What if we hired him for two weeks, a trial. He could paint the border rocks in the main parking lot, cut the long grasses around the fire pit and beside the river. Groundskeeper work.”
“And the more experienced hands can do the jobs we hired them to do.” Bill nodded, tugging on the brim of his felt hat as though bidding welcome to Leland’s marvelous idea. “We have plenty of room in the staff quarters, as you know. And the kid looked like he could use a few hot meals in his belly, besides. Maddy can get the paperwork together easy, so it’ll all be above board.”
“Now I feel like an ass.” Tightening his jaw, Leland prepared himself for Bill to agree, expressing himself quite succinctly, as was Bill’s way. But even as he regretted again the fact that he’d not offered Jamie some cool water to drink, or a step to sit on while he rested in the shade, Bill was shaking his head.
“You were doing what you thought was right. You’re looking out for the ranch, and the staff, and for me and my place, the way you always do.” Bill patted Leland’s shoulder with a hearty slap. “Nothing wrong with doing what you think is right. Now, why don’t you ride out and bring him back, and I’ll alert Maddy that there will be one more for lunch.”
