Page 8 of His Fresh Start Cowboy
“So far, so good. We’ve only had one slaughter so far and we did okay. This new herd will set the tone going forward.”
“And it’ll be a great tone,” Mr. Woods said with a broad smile. “Brand’s been putting that business degree of his to good use, and I have every confidence in him.”
The way Brand’s smile wobbled made Hugo wonder if Brand had that same confidence in himself. “Thank you, sir,” Brand said.
“No more work talk tonight, gentlemen,” Mrs. Woods said. “I have a pecan pie cooling in the kitchen, if you men have any room for dessert.” She rose from the table without waiting for answers and disappeared into the kitchen.
Hugo was stuffed from dinner, but he did agree to take a slice of pie home for later. Home being a glorified camper he’d yet to see. The sun was setting low on the horizon by the time Rem agreed to drive him—with his scooter in the bed of Rem’s truck—into town for a quick trip to the grocery store. The protein bar selection was sad, so Hugo made a mental note to check online, and bought what he could, along with fixings for basic sandwiches, and a few frozen dinners to tide him over for a couple of days.
With his supplies set, Rem drove him to Elmer Pearce’s property. Hugo remembered the eccentric old artist, mostly because the entire roadside fence of his property was lined with metal sculptures of all sorts, including several different renditions of Elmer Fudd. He was a folk artist of sorts, and from the gossip Hugo had gleaned, had a grown son who never visited, but that was about all Hugo knew.
The gloomy yard was somewhat lit by the occasional floodlight, and Rem pulled up past some sort of T-Rex built out of car parts to the fifth wheel. By the time they had the scooter parked and Hugo’s meager groceries put away in the tiny kitchen area, someone knocked on the front door. Elmer came inside without an acknowledgment. The man was in his late sixties or early seventies, Hugo wasn’t sure. But he stood with assurance and gave Hugo a long look up and down.
“So, you’re the new tenant,” Elmer said. “Elmer Pearce. Good to meet you, son.”
“Hugo Turner, sir,” Hugo replied. He shook the man’s gnarled, burn-scarred hand. “I appreciate the place to stay. I promise no late-night parties.”
“Shit, you want to have a party, I better be invited. Threw plenty of ’em back in my day. And if you ever need weed, I got you covered.”
Hugo glanced at Rem, who just grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind, I guess. But I’m here to work.”
“Sure, sure, you youngins. Trailer is hooked up to gas and water, but don’t go crazy using either. But being one man, I can’t see you doing too much of that.”
“No, sir, I won’t. I’m a very basic cook, and I’ve lived with a lot of roommates, so I’m used to quick showers.”
“Good, good.” He looked from Hugo to Rem, then back to Hugo. “You two rascals used to run around and get into trouble when you were teenagers, didn’t you? I don’t recall the name Turner, but I never forget a face.”
“We sure did get around,” Rem replied with a grin. “But Hugo’s family lived out in Daisy. And Turner is his mother’s maiden name. They both changed it back after her divorce.” He snapped his mouth shut, as if realizing he was telling a lot of personal things about Hugo to a near-stranger. Hugo wasn’t mad, though; Rem always did have a motormouth, and that apparently hadn’t changed.
“We definitely got into our fair share of trouble,” Hugo said. “But what teenage boy doesn’t, right? I’m sure you’ve got your own stories to tell, Mr. Pearce.”
Elmer laughed. “Don’t Mr. Pearce me, son, just call me Elmer. And if you ever want to sit on my porch one evening and share a joint, I’ll probably tell you some. Don’t worry, it’s medicinal.” The wink he flashed at Hugo suggested otherwise.
Hugo hadn’t smoked weed in years, but he had a feeling a visit with Elmer would be worth it just for the stories. He was so curious about the various sculptures decorating his yard, and the man’s actual work history. Couldn’t remember anyone ever mentioning what he’d once done for a living. Considering the acreage he seemed to own, he might have been a rancher once upon a time. Hugo actually looked forward to getting to know his landlord.
“Well, I gotta get home,” Rem said. “Need to kiss Susie goodnight before she goes to bed.”
“Of course.” Hugo shook his hand, then gave Rem a friendly bro-style hug. “It was great seeing you, and I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow. First day actually working your ranch, instead of just pissing around and getting into trouble.”
“See you in the morning. Hey, you drink coffee? I can bring a thermos from the house.”
He’d grabbed a jar of instant coffee at the store, but that would taste like bitter water compared to what he was used to Patrice making for the staff. “That would be great, actually, until I can buy a coffeepot of my own.” He actually needed to take a quick inventory of the place and see what else he might need, in terms of plates, pots and pans, and such.
At least he’d thought to buy a package of toilet paper.
“I won’t keep you, either,” Elmer said. “I’m sure you want to settle in. Sorry there’s no TV, but there’s a card in that drawer there with the Wi-Fi password, so feel free to use that for your phone or whatever gadget you’ve got.”
“Thank you, sir,” Hugo replied. He hadn’t really thought ahead about how to entertain himself in the evenings, so now he’d be able to stream things on his phone. And use his reading app.
“Sure, sure. You need anything, feel free to knock on my door.”
Once both his guests left, Hugo glanced around his new digs for, well, however long he stayed. It had about as much square footage as the cabin he’d once shared with Winston, but now all this space was his. No roommate for the first time in years, and the rent was really reasonable. Might only have to touch his savings once until his first paycheck from Woods Ranch came through.
He’d actually done this. Made the move back to Texas. Had dinner with his old crush at their family home. Moved into a fifth wheel with a plan to start a brand-new job tomorrow. He wasn’t sure how things would turn out with the ranch or Brand, but he’d abide by his promise to work hard and do his very best to make Woods Ranch a success.
Smiling to himself, Hugo hauled his suitcases into the tiny bedroom area and started to unpack.
Instead of waiting for her to call him back whenever she got a break, Brand drove into town to the Roost, the bar he preferred drinking at the most, because it was cleaner and had better music. Also, Ramie worked there, and he really needed to talk. Seeing Hugo again was fucking with his head worse than Brand imagined it might in the two weeks since Dad announced Hugo had been hired.
