Page 6 of From Rivals to I Do

to head up to the office and do some paperwork I’m behind on while I wait for this guy. But you two need to get to feedin’ and

muckin’”

“Yeah, we got it,” Noah sighs as he finishes his plate, washing it quickly and putting it in the drainer to air dry. “Good luck with the new hire.”

“Thanks,” I say as I head out, hop into my beat-up ol’ truck, and head toward the office, which is toward the front gates of the massive

property I own. Not to toot my own horn, but out of all the ranches in the area, my grass is the greenest, and my animals seem the

happiest, which is something I take massive pride in.

Not everyone seems to have the same dedication that me and the boys do, but that seems to be how it is these days. Working hard

has dwindled down to hardly workin’, and as I walk into the office to work on some quarterly tax papers, I wonder if this guy coming in

is going to be another dud. I’ve had plenty of ranch hands come and go, and some of them were great. But the last one—

unbeknownst to the kids—had been a felon, and he’d tried to rob my accounts dry, which is why the interview is important to me.

While I believe that everyone deserves a second chance, I can’t risk it again on my land. It probably sounds a bit prejudiced, but if

someone looks like trouble, I’m not about to hire them on. This ranch is my life’s work. My blood, sweat, and tears are in its soil, and I won’t let anyone mess with what I’ve built. No way, no how.

“Excuse me, I take it this is the office.” I hear a man say.

“Oh jeez, I didn’t even hear you knock,” I say as I look up to see a man a little younger than me wearing a black cowboy hat, a black

dress shirt, and Wrangler jeans. He’s a bit scruffy, but I don’t mind so much. Being a bit scruffy doesn’t mean you’re bad news.

“It’s alright,” he says with a smile, his teeth almost blindingly pearly white, which is a good sign, I suppose. Means he takes care of

himself, despite not shaving. “I’m Mitch,” he says as he steps into the office, leans forward, and juts his hand out toward me.

“Nice to meet you Mitch, I’m Eli, the owner of the ranch,” I say, and his eyes widen a bit.

“Oh wow, wasn’t expecting the owner to be giving the interview,” Mitch replies.

“Yeah, well, we are a family business,” I say as I motion for him to sit down in the seat in front of my desk. “So, Mitch, I guess my first

question is how long have you been working ranch jobs?”

“As long as I can remember,” he replies. “My daddy was a farrier, and we had our own ranch growing up.”

“Oh really? Where?” I ask.

“Amarillo,” he replies.

“Oh really? I got a cousin living over in Amarillo.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice, but I’m originally from Kansas,” Mitch says with a smile. “We moved to Texas when I was five or so.”

“Some good ranches over in Kansas,” I say.

“My uncle runs River Rose,” Mitch replies.

“Oh wow, that’s in Topeka, right?”

“Westmoreland, actually.”

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