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They were an odd group. Keeping to themselves and far from civilization. For twenty-four years they had lived as recluses. Rumor even had it they married their own. He wondered if that was where the boy came from. One thing for sure, the boy needed food and a good clean bath.
Putting down the rifle, he spat out the tobacco in his mouth before saying, “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today, boy. I won’t report you to the constable on account you pay for that chicken.”
A look entered the boy’s eyes and Wade quickly offered, “I don’t mean money. I mean work. You can work, can’t you?”
He nodded slowly and Wade felt a sense of relief. He was beginning to wonder if the boy was simple-minded. What with Chuck already on staff, he didn’t think it would be a good idea for two simpletons to be at the homestead when Kathleen arrived.
“Can you speak, boy?”
There was a moment’s pause and what looked as if the boy was about to say something, then instead shook his head.
Wade nodded in understanding, even though he really did not. He had no idea how to communicate with a mute. “Joe here will show you what to do, and when you’re done you can join us for supper.”
He left the barn without expecting a thank-you or look of gratitude, knowing he wouldn’t have received one. Instead, he pulled Joe aside and assigned a job for the boy. “Make sure he gets a bath and a clean set of clothes as well.”
His ranch foreman nodded and Wade made his way back up to the house. Kathleen was expected soon and he didn’t want to smell like the backside of a horse, but before he could submerge himself in a tub of water he needed to light the fire in the hearth and get the house warm before her arrival. Prescott, he knew, was already up at the house drawing his own bath but would forget to tend the fire.
Sure enough the coals lay cold in the hearth so Wade wasted no time gathering some logs and placing them in the fireplace. It didn’t take long before roaring flames filled the oversized stone hearth. Satisfied the fire needed no more feeding he turned toward the grand staircase that led to the bedrooms on the top floor.
The home was unusually large and outlandish for this part of the country. Their mother’s doing. When Louis Haddock brought her from the bustling streets of London to the remote outback of the Rocky Mountains, she insisted their home be as lavish as the one they left behind believing it would make living conditions more civilized. In an ironic twist, she hardly ventured off the homestead in all the years she lived there. It had eventually become her self-imposed prison.
Outside, there was a sudden loud commotion as footsteps pounded on the wooden porch. The front door swung open and a frustrated Joe stuck his head inside. “Sorry to disturb ya boss.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s the boy.”
Startled, Wade frowned. “What about him?”
“It seems he’s afraid of water.”
“Damnation.” Wade sighed angrily before checking the fire once again to ensure it was well under way before following Joe outside. Under no circumstance was he going to let anything ruin Kathleen’s arrival. He wanted everything perfect. “Where is he?”
“He’s trapped himself in the bullpen.”
Wade came to an abrupt halt. “You’re joking.”
“‘Fraid not.” Joe made a face and led the way to the back of the barns to the paddock where the bull was fenced.
Sure enough, Joe was not kidding when Wade saw the boy huddled beside a tree with the blanket wrapped protectively around him. A bright orange blanket. Hell, what was he, suicidal? Lucky for the boy, the bull looked disinterested as he lay in the opposite side of the pen watching the humans with distant interest.
“What the hell are you doing kid?” He positioned himself closest to the fence where the boy was. “Trying to kill yourself?”
For a reply the boy drew the blanket closer and slithered further behind the tree away from the men but more in view of the bull. Wade gritted his teeth. Christ, this was the last thing he needed. A few of the ranch hands had come over to watch, but Wade was not amused. This was hardly entertainment.
“Listen, kid, I have little patience. That’s something you should know. So I suggest you get the hell out of there before I change my mind and call the constable after all.”
He was surprised to see his words had no effect. Kathleen was expected home soon and he had no time for such idiotic behavior. “Listen, it’s your life. Mac, my bull over there, would gladly enjoy you as a plaything. It’s your choice.”
When he didn’t move, Wade felt the anger build up inside. “Hell.”
“Whatcha goin’ do?” Joe asked as Wade was about to storm past him.
“Nothin’.” And he meant it too, that was until he saw Mac stir and slowly get to his feet. Groaning with anger, he spun around and growled at the kid. “You either get that scrawny little ass of yours out of my bullpen right now or I swear I’ll rip into you a lot worse than Mac.”
The result was the complete opposite from what he had hoped. The boy looked even more frightened and refused to budge. Frustrated, Wade through his hands into his scraggly chin-length hair. How the hell could this be happening? Life at the ranch was always calm and uneventful. Just the way he liked it.
Taking a deep breath, he slid a look over at Mac and took note of his slow movements, calculating the estimated time before the bull decided he no longer wanted to share his pen.
