Cowboy Dad

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Aaron unzipped his duffel bag and removed a plastic sack. He added dirty clothes to his growing pile. “Is there a laundry around here?”

“Behind the dining hall.” The guy hitched his chin as if the laundry were right across the road rather than a good mile up it. “By the way, I’m Randy. That there is Skunk.”

“Skunk?”

Randy shook his head. “Don’t ask. You’ll just make him mad.”

If Skunk knew they were talking about him he gave no indication. Head resting on the back of the couch, he listened to his iPod with closed eyes. He might have been napping except for the beer he raised to his lips every other minute like clockwork.

“I’m Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you.” Randy toasted him. “Where you from?”

“Laveen, originally,” he answered, naming the small rural community southeast of Phoenix where he was born and raised. “I’ve been traveling a lot since I graduated high school.”

“Yeah, haven’t we all.”

“Which bed is mine?” Aaron didn’t suppose either of these two would make a bad roommate. Randy appeared agreeable enough and Skunk was quiet.

A slow smile spread across Randy’s face. “Me and Skunk got the room to the right.”

“Who’s in the bedroom to the left?”

Randy’s smile expanded until it stretched from ear to ear. “Terrence.” He said the name with both reverence and amusement.

Aaron got the distinct impression he was the brunt of some joke only Randy was in on. He decided to go along with it for now. Nothing wrong with a little sport among friends.

“What do you and Skunk do on the ranch?” he asked.

“Skunk’s with maintenance, and I’m with groundskeeping. He keeps the rental ATVs running for the guests. I pick up their litter.” Randy took another swig of his beer. “It’s not such a bad living I reckon. What about you?”

“Ranch hand, I think. I’m supposed to report to Gary Forrester in the morning.”

“You’ll be working with Terrence then.” Randy’s smile became ridiculously large.

Aaron began to suspect he was in for a real treat when he met this Terrence, and not a good one. He was just getting the rundown on the community tipping pool when a heavy thumping sounded from the porch.

Randy shot out from behind the breakfast bar. “Terrence is home.”

Skunk opened his eyes and removed his headphones, letting them fall onto his lap.

Whoever this Terrence was, he commanded a lot of attention.

The door flew open. A tall, broad, dark figure stopped and stood, filling every inch of the open space. Arms ripped with muscles extended from a sleeveless work shirt. Boots—size thirteen at least—stepped over the threshold and came down with a hard clunk on the bare floor, the spurs jangling. A rattlesnake tattoo wound around a thick, corded neck.

Aaron swallowed, admittedly intimidated. He’d met cowboys who looked more like homeboys, but never a cowgirl.

“Hi, Terrence,” Randy chirped. “Meet your new roomie.”

She stared at Randy as if she might eat him alive for breakfast. “My name ain’t Terrence. It’s Teresa.” She enunciated each syllable while pointing a finger at him with the same aggression some people raised a fist. “And you morons better start calling me that.”

“It’s really nice to meet you, Teresa.” Aaron considered shaking her hand but decided she might inadvertently crush his fingers.

“I don’t room with no one.” She glared at him. “That was the agreement when I took this job.”

“Guess the agreement’s changed.” Randy burst into laughter. So did Skunk. They both shut up when Teresa fixed her glare on them.

“We’ll just see what Natalie has to say about this.”

“Why don’t I sleep on the couch,” Aaron suggested.

“Good idea.” Teresa removed her hat and sailed it across the room. It landed on the coffee table, inches from Skunk’s feet. She wiped her damp forehead and patted her many rows of tight braids, woven with beads of all colors. “I’m taking a shower. Anyone who steps foot in the bathroom is a dead man.”

No one so much as blinked.

“She seems personable,” Aaron said when she’d gone into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

When Randy and Skunk broke into more laughter, Aaron joined them. His good mood lasted up until dinner when everyone in the dining hall turned to stare when he and his bunkmates walked in.

“What gives?” Randy asked, checking out all the gawking faces.

“There’s something I didn’t mention,” Aaron said, wondering if their friendly treatment of him would change after he told them who he really was.

“SO, WHAT’S HE LIKE?” Natalie’s mother, Deana, asked in a whisper that somehow managed to carry over the noisy din of the crowded dining hall.

There were twenty-nine employees currently on the Bear Creek Ranch payroll. By Natalie’s estimation, each and every one of them was there, eating dinner and staying long after they’d finished for another look at Aaron Reyes. Her mother was no exception, sneaking less than discreet glances his way every few seconds.

“Seems pleasant enough,” her father said. He was one of the only people there more concerned with eating his apple pie than Aaron Reyes’s unexpected appearance on the ranch.

“Very pleasant,” Natalie concurred, shaking a rattle in front of Shiloh’s face.

She’d put the baby in a carrier, one that doubled as a car seat, and secured it on the chair beside her. Shiloh had been restless most of the dinner and was getting fussier by the minute. Probably a reaction to the nervous energy abounding in the room, so different from the usual staff meals where everyone joked and told stories and decompressed after a hard day of work.

Meals were served family style at the ranch. Everyone dined at long tables holding twelve to fourteen people, and enjoyed simple, country fare. After the start of the new season, the staff, with the exception of the ranch hands and trail guides, would take their meals an hour earlier than the guests and eat either in the kitchen or outside beneath the ramada. Until then, they all ate together in the dining hall.

“Pleasant? That’s all you have to say?” Deana threw Aaron Reyes another sidelong glance.

“Polite,” Natalie added.

“Right sociable,” her father said.

“Likes kids.”

“Likes kids?” Deana looked inquisitively at Natalie. “How do you know that?”

“I don’t.” Natalie backpedaled. “Just a feeling.” Because he’d complimented Shiloh? Not much to go on, really. “What I mean is he doesn’t dislike kids.” That remark earned her an eye roll from her mother. Shut up, she told herself, while you can still save face.

Natalie’s father came to her rescue. “He knows a lot about horses.”