I didn’t tell him that I wasn’t going to be able to afford much lunch, let alone a room. “It’s pretty country.”
“Dry, lots of places. Good views, if you like that sorta thing.”
“What keeps the town going?” I asked.
He coughed. “Orneriness, mostly.”
I couldn’t help smiling, the way he made me think of Joe. “That’s honest.” Not a good sign for finding a job, but honest.
“Was a gold town once.” He took a long swallow from his mug. “Cattle later. There’s still the Bar & Star ranch, and that’s some of the local income. They take in guests in the summer, dudes, y’know, so there’s a bit of tourism. Plus some remote workers. Some retired folks who land here for the cheaper properties, but the cold drives ’em off when they get arthritic. There’s a few artists and such. We’re small and getting smaller.”
“Sign by the highway says a hundred and forty-seven people.”
“Ain’t been updated in a couple decades. The young folk don’t stick around much. Getting soft these days.”
The young woman snorted as she approached. “Right. That’s why. We’re in search of luxuries.”
“You’re the exception, Caitlyn, honey. They should all be like you.”
“Right. Have a grandparent pop off right as they find out they’re pregnant?” She tossed her head.
His “Sorry, honey,” didn’t get so much as a look.
She focused on me. “So, stranger, what can I get you?”
I hadn’t given the menu much more than a glance. I scanned the choices. Most of it was out of reach but I could get the plain burger, or a piece of pie. Burger made sense, if this was the last food I’d have for a while, but I said, “I’ll try that cherry pie.”
“Ice cream on it?”
“No, thanks.”
“Cup of coffee?”
“Just the pie.”
“Coming up.” Caitlyn took the menu I held out to her and headed off.
The old man looked at me. “What’s your name, son?”
I almost told him, but at the last moment, a realization hit me. I didn’t have to be Frankie here. Didn’t have to be Frank Morse, Junior, my dad’s little clone. I could choose. I said, “Austin. That’s my middle name, but it’s what I go by.”
“You don’t sound like Texas.”
“Nah. My grandma picked it. A family name.” Dad’s middle name too, but he hated it, which gave it extra shine.
“You do ranch work? Those boots have some wear on them.”
The old guy had sharp eyes to pick up where the stirrups had rubbed my Durangos. “Have done. I worked a cattle ranch the last year.”
“I was the foreman on the Bar & Star till a few years back. It’s a good, honest life. Not much money in it for the boots on the ground, of course.”
“Truth.”
“Well, you’re young yet. Whole life ahead of you. You’ll get by.”
I wished I had his confidence, but I nodded, then smiled at Caitlyn as she set the pie in front of me. Two days of short rations and I could’ve wolfed that slice down, but I made myself savor it, tasting every luscious bite.
The old guy introduced himself as Pete, and he took my silent eating as an excuse to entertain me with stories of his ranch life. I didn’t mind. It’d been a lonely two days so far, after spending my waking hours working with the other hands. A friendly voice was welcome and he made the Bar & Star ranch sound like a good one, with pranking, not bullying. Although maybe that was seeing things from his side of the prank.
