Page 4 of My Cowboy Freedom
Wow.
Oh, wow.
Elena glanced up at him with fondness. Then she frowned back at me. She really, really didn’t seem to like the looks of me.
“You know this guy?” she asked the giant. “He don’t look much like a ranch hand to me.”
“Aren’t you Elena?” At that point I was inspired by desperation. “Do you still make doughnuts on Christmas morning? The kind with a cinnamon-sugar coating that gets your hands all sticky?”
She squinted at me. “How’d you know that?”
“I’m Skyler Brody. My dad worked here. Mike Brody? I couldn’t have been more than five or so when we left, but I still remember those doughnuts.”
“Oh...” Her face registered real sorrow. “I was sorry when he passed.”
She didn’t try to close the door again.
“He was a good man.”
“He was.” I agreed. “The best.”
What else had she heard about? My mother’s disastrous second marriage? Had she heard about me? I could see by her narrowed eyes she had. I hurried her away from the topic of family. “Maybe there’s something needs doing while the boss is on the road? I can help out with most anything.”
She hesitated.
“I’ve got this, Madrina.” Okay, so she was the giant’s godmother. A big, yellow dog wearing a blue service vest peeked out from behind his leg. “It’s okay, since he has a letter offering him work. I’ll look it over, and if it seems legit, I’ll take him out to the bunkhouse and get him settled in. Introduce him to Tad and the guys.”
“Thank you.” I sagged with relief and tipped my soggy gimme cap to Elena. “Later, ma’am.”
“This way.” I followed him and his dog out to one of those little mini trucks, curious how he’d fit his big frame inside it. The dog jumped into the bed, but before I could get in, he held his hand out. “Can I see the letter the boss sent you?”
I gave it to him. He took a few minutes to read it over—longer than I’d have thought he’d need—but then he folded it up with a nod.
“Looks in order.” He lifted his massive hand to his neck to give it a rub. “I don’t know what Mr. Chandler’s hiring you to do, is all.”
“Anything. I can be pretty useful. Just point me to anything, and tell me what you want done.”
“Boss fired a couple of hands this week.” He frowned. “Or they quit. Depends on who you ask, I guess.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so when he gave a jerk of his chin, I just got into that little truck. He got in beside me and the whole deal shifted with his weight.
“Damn thing gets smaller after it rains, I swear.” He started up the engine. “So. You new to this part of Texas?”
“I ain’t been here in a long time.” I glanced back and found a pair of warm brown eyes giving me the once-over. “Nice dog.”
“She’s a sweetheart. Name’s Maisy.”
“Cute.” I’d never met anyone with a service dog. It didn’t seem polite to ask what she did, because I’d only met the guy five seconds ago.
After that, the conversation lagged while we bumped over the trail. You don’t say shit in prison if you want to be left alone, but he looked like a good kid, and for whatever reason, I was making him nervous. Something defensive in the way he hunched over the wheel drew my eye.
The silence dragged out between us.
“You got any tips?” I asked. “I need this job.”
“Boss ain’t an easy man, but he’s better than most. He doesn’t expect you to do anything he wouldn’t do himself. The men who left us worked with the horses so I’m sure I can start you out there.”
“I know my way around horses.”
