Page 12 of Running to the Cowboy

“No,” I answer, nibbling on a green bean.

Ennis lifts a skeptical eyebrow and stabs some potatoes and finally eats.

Wylie grunts. “As far as I can tell, you’ve got no identification and no references. You’ll be hard-pressed to find a job.”

My heart sinks, but I try to keep a brave face. “I’ll figure it out,” I say, taking another bite of the delicious food.

The pitying look on Wylie’s face makes my cheeks flood with heat. “Olivia. You have to be honest with yourself. You’ve never left the compound; how do you think you’ll fare out there in the wide world?”

I do my best not to let my annoyance show. “I don’t know. But I’m good at lots of things. Surely, someone will give me achance. I’m good with animals and children. I can cook. I can clean. I’m a crack shot with a rifle, too. Somebody somewhere could use me.”

Weirdly, all eyes go to Wylie.

He looks defensive and clueless. “What?”

Ennis smirks and mutters something under his breath, then shovels more food into his mouth.

Curly sits back on two chair legs, rubbing his full belly. “Well, heck. If all you need is references, I suppose you could get some experience right here at Sterling Ranch.”

“It’s too soon to be talking about work,” Wylie says. “She’s still recovering. And…you know, traumatized and shit.”

I don’t care for someone speaking about that on my behalf. Whatever might be wrong with my head is nobody’s business. “I’m fine,” I say to Wylie. Then I turn to Curly. “I’d love to help you around the house, Curly. Anything you need.”

Curly laughs. “What I need is a few days off. Heck, I haven’t taken vacation time in years. Thinking about going fly fishing.” Jake pipes up with, “You’ve never been fly fishing before.”

“Maybe I’d like to start. You don’t know everything about me.”

I smile as I finish up my meal. I like the way these four men exchange lighthearted barbs with each other. It makes this house feel like a home to me.

Then I catch myself. Don’t get attached, Olivia. You’re not staying long. You’re a fly in their ointment, and they’re just being charitable.

“I’d love to earn some money cooking and cleaning for you all,” I say.

“Olivia,” Wylie says.

“I’m fine,” I repeat, cutting him off before he reminds me that I’m still injured and sick.

“You heard the girl; let her work if she wants to,” Curly says.

I clap my hands. “When should I start?” I ignore Wylie’s surly look.

Curly says, “You can start tonight. And you can use my room while I’m away for a few days.”

After dinner, Curly goes to his room to strip the bed and pack for his impromptu vacation. Jake and Ennis head outside to check on the animals again while Wylie stays behind to help me with dishes and clean up.

“We have a dishwasher that does that,” Wylie says as I fill the sink with hot soapy water. I note the irritation in his voice, but I begin washing the drinking glasses anyway.

“Are you upset with me, Wylie?”

He doesn’t answer yes or no. He only answers with a grunt.

“I know. You think I’m too weak or whatever.”

He continues loading plates into the dishwasher. I rinse out the glasses one by one and place them in a dish rack, thankful for the hot water that warms my hands.

“But I’m eager to move on. And I don’t want to be a burden. One thing to know about me is I bounce back fast. And there’snothing that I can’t do if I put my mind to it. So I’m sorry if you think I’m too fragile and weak, but that’s not the case.”

When I finish, I notice that Wylie has stopped loading the dishwasher. I turn to see him leaning with one hand on the counter, watching me. His wandering eyes snap up from somewhere below my waist.

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