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Michael did not expect to have an interview with Brand and Wayne Woods at ten o’clock the next morning. But, since Dad wasn’t coming home until tomorrow, Michael had the free time and drove to the Woods Ranch with a few minutes to spare. They had a vast, sprawling acreage that included a lot of grassland, a few dry gulches, and two herds of cattle. The regular heads had maybe one slaughter left, if Michael’s casual head count was correct, because the family was transitioning over to fully grass-fed, organic beef.
He didn’t see the larger herd as he parked, so they were probably grazing far out on the land, filling their bellies and keeping the grass height down. Growing up, Dad had hated mowing the lawn, calling it a waste of time and manpower, so he’d bought a few goats to do the work for him. And it had been fine until the goats started eating the side of the house and garage. Dad had sold them to another farmer one county over.
After that, Michael stopped naming anything that lived on their farm, even the two mutts they’d still had around when Michael left town.
His eyes burned, and damn it, he was not going to cry again about Rosco right before a job interview.
Wayne Woods greeted him by the main house with a firm handshake, and instead of going into the house, they walked over to a smaller building between it and the barn. From what Michael remembered, it had been a bunkhouse for hands once upon a time, but when they walked in, the place looked more like someone’s living room/kitchen. The door to the left was shut, but the one to the right stood half-open, and Wayne went that way.
Three sets of bunk beds still stood against the walls, but Brand sat behind a wide desk smack in the middle of it. His office as ranch foreman, Michael suspected. He was proved right when Brand shook his hand, then asked him to sit in one of the two wooden chairs across from the desk. Wayne took the other.
“It’s nice to see you again, Michael,” Brand began, “I have to say that web app development isn’t something we’re really looking for in a hand, but your experience might be useful as we go forward and expand our brand of organic beef.”
“I can do any sort of software work you need, of course,” Michael replied. “That’s not even a problem, but I’m most interested in full-time work. I haven’t been on a horse in twenty years but I remember how to tack and ride, and I know how to herd cattle. I’m here to help my dad get better, but I also need something to do with my time.”
And the paycheck is a perk, too.
“Understandable,” Wayne said. “I’ve known Elmer most of my life and he’s a good man. I remember when you barely came up to my hip, son, and I’ll always do what I can to help out a neighbor. Seeing as your skills are a bit rusty, we can offer you a trial period of employment. Say, four weeks?”
“I’d appreciate that very much. Thank you.” Josiah’s tentative smile flashed in his mind. “And I don’t mean to be a pain in the ass before I’m even hired, but I’d do really good with a regular schedule, because I’ve hired an in-home nurse to care for Dad while I’m not there, and I need to coordinate his schedule.”
“I think we can work with you,” Brand replied. “Days usually start at eight thirty and end at five. Our guys are pretty flexible, so if certain days work best for you and your caregiver, I can schedule you those days.” His lips twitched. “As long as you survive the trial period.”
“I’ll do my best not to disappoint. And I’d love to take a crack at revamping your online presence, if that’s something you’re really interested in. I always had a knack for coding and computers but...things didn’t work out. Got into business with the wrong person. I regret some of my choices but I’ve also learned from them.”
“We all have, Michael. Regretted and learned.” Brand’s hand drifted across the front of his shirt to rest over his abdomen—probably the place where he was stabbed a few months ago.
Not likely a memory Brand wanted to revisit today.
“If I’m not being too nosy,” Wayne said, “do you have your caregiver lined up, or do you need help?”
“A social worker at the hospital already has someone lined up, and we chatted for a while yesterday. Josiah Sheridan.”
Wayne glanced briefly at Brand. “I know the boy a bit. He helped save Brand’s life the night Hugo’s sociopath stepbrother attacked them.”
“Oh.” Josiah had told him about that incident, but he hadn’t mentioned he’d been there. “Well, I’m glad he was there to help. I think my dad will like him a lot, and he seems very focused on his work. A lot of glowing recommendations from previous clients and families.” Michael had taken a few minutes last night to actually read the papers Josiah had given him, and it was all solid stuff.
“Josiah would argue he’s no hero and was just in the right place at the right time,” Brand said. “We tried to invite him and his roommate over for supper to thank them, but they turned us down.”
“They?” Josiah hadn’t mentioned a roommate, but his living arrangement wasn’t Michael’s business as long as Josiah showed up and did his work.
“Yeah, he’s been living with Sheriff McBride almost since he got to town two years ago.”
“Sheriff had a spare room,” Wayne added, “and there’s probably no safer place to live than with the county sheriff.”
Brand’s expression flickered, as if he disagreed with something his father had said. Now didn’t seem like the time to bring it up, though. Their conversation switched back to the ranch. Brand talked him through the standards for the organic beef, and then led him over to the barn for a tour. It had a break room with a table, microwave, and fridge. The ladder to the hayloft was opposite it. Michael met the horses he’d be riding, saw the tack and feed rooms, and by the time they’d finished, a man on horseback was approaching from one of the fields, two dogs loping along beside him.
One dog, a scarred German shepherd, took off in their direction and went straight for Brand, who scratched the big dog on his head. “This is Brutus,” Brand said. “The best dog we’ve got.”
Brutus sniffed in Michael’s general direction but didn’t posture or growl.
The cowboy slowed and climbed off his horse. The other dog stuck close, some kind of gray and brown mutt. “Howdy,” the stranger said. He was probably close to Michael’s age, with the tanned skin of a man used to working outdoors. “Jackson Sumner. This here is Dog.”
His dog’s name is Dog? Okay.“Michael Pearce.”
“We’re bringing Michael in on a trial basis,” Wayne said. “Four weeks to get his sea legs back under him, so to speak.”
“Welcome to the team.” Jackson pulled off a leather work glove, then stuck his hand out to shake. Had a nice, firm grip.
