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They’d had good luck with hiring on Hugo Turner and Michael Pearce this past year, but one of their longtime hands, Alan Denning, was having his own string of bad luck. He’d broken his left hand last spring and taken a leave of absence, and now he’d apparently broken the same hand again, leaving the ranch a man down.
Again.
They’d get through it like they always did, but right after Christmas was a hard time for a lot of folks. Money was tighter after holiday spending, and working at Woods Ranch meant a commute, since they knew or had once hired most of the capable hands in the county. And the ranch’s switch to all-organic, grass-fed beef had been a risky one that turned off some folks from applying.
So far so good with the ranch’s finances, though, thanks to Brand’s good business sense, and a side investment in wind power, but God knew things could turn on a dime. Especially for farmers of any sort. Hoof rot, Q fever, or even a bad storm could hurt the herd and their combined livelihood.
“How long’s he out this time?” Jackson asked.
“About the same,” Brand replied. “Eight weeks, give or take. Maybe a little longer since it’s the same hand. Trust me, Alan’s pissed off about this. I don’t think I’ve ever heard the man sayfuckso many times in a three-minute conversation.”
“I don’t blame him. He’s a working man who likes to work, same as me.”
“Well, then do me a favor and don’t break anything.”
Jackson grinned. “Don’t worry, boss, the last thing that broke in this body was my heart, and no, it was not because you called off us fucking around last spring.” His teasing seemed to go over fine, because Brand smiled back at him. He and Brand had begun fucking each other years ago, about three months before Jackson was hired onto the ranch by Brand’s father, Wayne. The relationship had continued in a casual way for ages, until Brand began a serious relationship with Hugo last summer.
Jackson had been jealous for about five minutes, and then he’d wished the pair well. He’d always known what he and Brand had was casual, because Brand had also been fucking a bartender named Ramie who worked at a local dive. All three of them had been very aware of the arrangement from the start so feelings didn’t get hurt, and while Jackson was still friendly with Ramie, that was it.
“So does this mean we’re hiring again?” Jackson asked, his brain skipping back around to Alan no longer being able to work. Even the worst of the busywork, like mucking stalls or tacking a horse, took both hands to do right.
“Yeah, and shockingly I had an application in my inbox this morning before I even posted the help-wanted memo. Young guy, only twenty, but his work experience looks decent. Not ranching specifically, but he says he knows horses and he’s willing to relocate. I’ve got an interview with him later today.”
Only twenty, just like Wilson. Hopefully this other kid had a bit more life experience under his belt.
“That’s good,” Jackson said. “I mean, between you, me, Hugo, Michael, and Rem, we can stretch the shifts for a while, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful.”
“I know, especially with Dad stepping back.”
Family patriarch and ranch owner Wayne Woods had been trying to scale back a bit in recent years, but still stepped in when they needed help. He was the kind of gracious, supportive family man Jackson genuinely wished his own adoptive father had been, and he was grateful to work here for this family. Even if Wayne didn’t completely understand something, like Brand being bisexual and happy with Hugo, Wayne listened. He tried.
“Well, I was supposed to be out with Michael today,” Jackson said. “He here yet?”
“He texted he was running a few minutes behind but should be here in a bit. His dad was having a slow morning.”
“Got it.”
Last year, Michael’s father, Elmer Pearce, had suffered a stroke, and while Elmer was doing well, some days he required extra help to get started in the morning.
“I’ll go get our horses tacked,” Jackson said. “Good luck with your interview later.”
“Gee, thanks.” Brand winked on his way out of the break room. While Brand had an incredible mind for business and investing in things that would be profitable for the ranch, he wasn’t the type of guy who’d ever manage a human resources department. But a handful of employees who were as dusty and used to the rustler life as himself? Good fit.
Dog was waiting for Jackson in the big barn’s main corridor, her shaggy tail already wagging when she spotted him. “Ready for a new adventure, girl?” he asked.
Dog sneezed.
Jackson had his preferred horse, Juno, tacked and ready and No Name out of her stall when Michael and Rosco arrived. Jackson had been initially nervous about adding another dog to the ranch. Brand’s own dog Brutus, while aging and still healing from an animal attack last spring, was still protective of the property, but he got along great with Dog. Rosco was an attentive pit bull mix who’d come back into Michael’s life about two months ago and, after very careful introductions to both Brutus and Dog, was now welcome on the ranch. Rosco wasn’t much of a herding dog, but he was gentle with the animals, and Jackson had never heard the dog growl.
“Your dad doing okay?” Jackson asked as Michael ambled down the barn to the tacking area, Rosco on his heels.
“Yeah, he’s all right. Cold weather leaves him a little stiff in the morning, so sometimes he needs extra help to get going. Sorry to be late.”
“The cattle don’t care. Let’s get out there.”
“Sure, man.”
Michael finished tacking No Name, and then they were out in the winter sunshine, running the fence line and making sure none of the herd had wandered off. At first, Jackson hadn’t been sure what to make of Michael, who’d come to them after spending the past twenty years in the city, playing with computers. But he’d grown up in the ranching life and had acclimated quickly, and he’d also helped Brand completely update the ranch’s website and social media. He might not be a lifer, but he was around for now and did the job.
