A Cowboy at Heart

by Roz Denny Fox

  “A wage?” Greg’s head shot up.

  “How much?” Eric reluctantly asked. “I didn’t know we’d get paid. Maybe it won’t hurt to stick around. We can build a nest egg that’ll let us book time in a real recording studio. That’d be cool.”

  Linc held up a hand. “I don’t care what you do after you leave the ranch. But while you’re here, I’d rather you spend your free time reading or learning more marketable skills than strumming a guitar.”

  Eric snorted. He might have objected had Jenny and Shawn not both talked at once. Shawn, being louder, won out. “So, Eric, you’re saying we can stay and pool our funds? There’ll be time later to put together a plan for our music.”

  Eric swallowed half his meal and washed it down with a full glass of milk while the others waited, silently darting him glances. They all cheered when he eventually gave his consent to stay for a while.

  Linc, too, breathed a sigh of relief. He knew why Greg hadn’t said much. The boy had a different goal. But Randi had been surprisingly quiet. Did that mean she was toying with the idea of leaving sooner rather than later?

  His breakfast was suddenly hard to swallow.

  CHAPTER SIX

  LINC PAID for their breakfast. Outside, he gathered the kids to talk about the shopping that needed to be done. “I’d like you older boys to handle buying feed.” He peeled off several hundred-dollar bills and told them how much to order. “Ask the clerk to have the bags stacked in the loading bay by three. We’ll drive the Excursion over there and load them ourselves.”

  “Are Jenny and I buying groceries and cleaning supplies?” Randi asked. “Oh, but if we all go, what about Scraps? We can’t take him into the store.”

  Linc glanced over the list yet again and handed it to her with a wad of cash. “You take Cassie and Hana. Leave the dog. Roll the two back windows down far enough so he’ll get plenty of air. We’ll be coming and going. He’ll be fine.

  “Jenny, here’s what I thought we’d order in the way of bedding and housewares. The department store is directly across from the market. Wolfie, you tag along with Jenny and help her carry things to the car. I hope we can park centrally. I’m keeping one key and I’ll give Eric the spare. Once you boys finish at the feed store, give Randi a hand loading groceries. Remember we need to pack wisely, so there’ll be room for all of us and our purchases on the trip home.”

  Accepting the key, Eric shoved it in a baggy pocket near the bottom of his wide-legged pants. “Man, what are you gonna be doin’ while you have us toting and loading?”

  “Ordering heaters, mattresses and a dishwasher. I also hope to stop at an employment agency. We need a housekeeper-cook in the worst way.”

  “We sure do. No problemo. Me and the guys can walk to the feed store. Shawn needs to wear off a dozen pancakes, anyway.” Eric gave his friend a poke to the midsection. Shawn cuffed his arm in return.

  Linc watched their clowning with some trepidation. He wondered if he’d made a mistake expecting so much from them. But he had a second errand. One he’d rather handle alone. As well as the employment agency, he wanted to drop by the office of Social and Community Welfare Services.

  They piled into the SUV with a lot of good-natured bickering. Wishing he had earplugs, Linc drove along the main shopping street in town and easily found a parking space between the grocery and department stores.

  “Do any of you own a watch?” Surprisingly, all five of the older ones did. “Good. It’s ten-thirty now. Is everyone comfortable meeting here at one o’clock? Maybe while some of you load supplies, someone else can walk Scraps in the park. See it there in the next block?”

  “What are we gonna do for lunch?”

  Linc laughed outright. No one else seemed surprised at Shawn’s focus on his stomach. Except that Greg made gagging sounds.

  “Jeez,” Shawn complained, “since when is there a law against asking about food?”

  Linc studied the clearly disgruntled and overweight boy. “I thought we’d grab a bucket of chicken and some side orders before we leave town. But I think I saw a barbecue on the patio back home. If you’d prefer, we can toss something on the grill. I’m fine with either.”

  Wolfie, who’d been remarkably quiet up to now, drew their attention to an ice-cream parlor sign midway down the block. “I’d give up lunch for ice cream. Hana and Cassie, too. Right?” He, of course, got the reply he wanted.

  Linc noted the sparkle in all three pairs of eyes—an excitement that was dashed when the teenage boys shouted down Wolfie’s idea. They were all for the chicken.

  “A little ice cream won’t ruin your appetites,” Linc said. “In fact, if you kids finish your chores before I get back, one of you will surely have enough money left to treat everybody to cones.”

  Randi got a collective agreement from the others. Linc could no longer lump her in with the teens, and while he understood her leadership role, he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

  He hadn’t bargained for the age discrepancies among his tenants. The first thing he had to do after ordering the appliances was find out if Social Services had a solution to the Oasis Foundation’s screwup. Those poor little tykes. He wasn’t qualified or prepared to work with children that young, so there was no way he could let them stay on at the ranch. But dammit, kids deserved to be wanted.

  Randi perused her list again and again, alternately checking the ones Eric and Jenny had. “We’ll never fit us and all these things into the Excursion. There’s not a lot of cargo room.”

  Linc opened the hatch. He and all the kids eyeballed the area. “She’s right,” Linc said, slamming it shut again. “Now what?”

  “You’ve got a trailer hitch.” Eric kicked it with a toe. “I bet you could rent a trailer.”

  “I wonder if they sell them at the feed store,” Linc mused aloud. “I foresee plenty of times we’ll need to haul larger stuff. Will you three investigate that possibility? Jot down prices. If you find a decent size for a good price, tell them I’m interested.”

  “Will do.” Eric wrote himself a note.

  Linc watched them scatter. He felt good about the way they all seemed to accept responsibility.

  It took less time than he’d figured to place his order and arrange for delivery. The employment office was a different matter.

  “I realize my ranch is secluded. But I’m offering room and board plus a salary. Surely there’s some nice woman around who can cook, likes kids and needs to supplement her retirement income or something.”

  The counselor had begun to sound as exasperated as Linc felt. “There’s more to employing someone in this day and age, Mr. Parker.”

  “I explained why I can’t give two days a week off, Mrs. Sievers. I’ll have teens there seven days a week. Kids don’t eat just five out of seven days.”

  “Well, there’s also the matter of health insurance. And transportation. Those are perks we guarantee our clients, Mr. Parker.”

  Linc got to his feet. “It’s funny. In all the Western movies I’ve seen, ranchers hire loyal cooks who practically become part of the family.”

  “You said you’d lived and worked in Hollywood, so I should think you’d know how much they exaggerate.”

  “Would you just look at your applications again and see if you missed anyone?”

  “I know who’s in my files. I’m sorry. Perhaps if you stop at the newspaper and advertise privately, Mr. Parker, you’ll have more success. I’m not promising it will be different, though. To be honest, domestic jobs are almost impossible to fill. Most women wanting to work outside the home are seeking a break from kids and kitchen. Hence the high turnover in those jobs. That’s the main reason our agency doesn’t actively go in search of household positions.”

  “But you’re the only agency in town. Are there no poor grandmotherly types living here?”

  “Modern grandmothers are busy playing bridge or golf. Or else they’re traveling the world to keep from getting trapped raising their grandkids.”

  Th
inking back, Linc wondered if his grandmother felt trapped when the juvenile-court judge asked her to serve as guardian for him and his sister. Flamboyant, freethinking Grandmother Welch. Money slipped through her fingers with the ease of sand sifting through an hourglass. He didn’t want someone like her or the Tuckers. He needed a person who liked kids, had a work ethic and would consider the ranch home.

  If the agency couldn’t help him, he had no choice but to advertise. The trip to the newspaper office took quite a while. He walked quickly back to the Excursion to tell the kids he had one more errand. All that greeted him was an overzealous dog with muddy paws. He knew the kids had been back. Also, the Excursion overflowed with packages. Grocery bags were stuffed between the rows of seats. He could see a cookbook in one bag, and that made him smile. Yet the kids were missing—unless they’d gone for ice cream. He checked his watch and hoped that would occupy them another twenty minutes. “Stay,” he told the dog.

  The welfare office was approximately two blocks away. He jogged there and arrived out of breath. Linc peered through the window, smoothing back his wind-tossed hair. He straightened his shirt cuffs before going in. A couple of families sat in wood chairs ringing the waiting area. A very young woman rocked a new baby. A creaky senior citizen occupied a seat across from a stern-looking woman in a glassed-in office. The director, Mrs. Bishop? With any kind of luck.

  Another young woman sat behind what must be the reception desk. She wore a hands-free phone headset and chewed gum a mile a minute as she talked to someone on the line.

  Linc crossed to stand before her. She was giving someone directions to the office. He glanced worriedly at his watch. He’d used up seven minutes so far.

  Finally she said goodbye and turned her attention to Linc.

  “I’ve recently bought a ranch in the area,” he said. “A place formerly owned by the Oasis Foundation.”

  She gave him a blank stare. Linc tried again to forge a link. “Oasis ran a group home of sorts for children awaiting adoption. Little children,” he added. “I’m converting the facility to house teenagers, former street kids.”

  “Yeah? So where is this place? Are you here to apply for a state license?”

  Linc delivered a patient smile. “I have a license. What I need is to talk to your director about finding homes for three children Oasis left behind.”

  “No kidding? You mean they just left them?”

  “Exactly. And I’m not providing services for anyone under the age of thirteen. These children are ten, seven and four.”

  “And your ranch is where?”

  Linc withdrew a business card he’d had made up with his name and the address. He didn’t list the property as Rascal Ranch since he planned to rename it. Only, he wasn’t sure what was involved in that, either. Anyway, at the moment he had more to worry about.

  “This property’s not in our jurisdiction. Sorry.” She handed him back his card.

  “But…but…” Linc stuttered a moment before collecting his thoughts. “Susanville is the nearest town.”

  “Can’t help it.” The girl cracked her gum loudly and depressed the key on a phone panel, which had begun flashing. “Over on the north wall is a jurisdictional map. The green stars show where the branch offices are. Find the one closest to your address.”

  Linc whirled to look at the wall. “Uh…thanks.” He lost no time making his way there. To reach the wall, however, he practically had to climb over another family who’d come in and taken seats directly below the map. “Excuse me,” he muttered.

  It took several minutes to decipher which stars designated which service areas. Red lines intersected roads, state parks and recreation land, plus rivers. He wasn’t certain, but as near as he could tell, Rascal Ranch sat between a river, a recreational property and a star denoting the Social Services office west of the ranch.

  Excusing himself to the family again, Linc returned to the reception desk. This time, the girl was dispensing information about food stamps. When she saw him, she covered the mouthpiece and frowned. “This may take a while. Is there something else you need, Mr. Parker?”

  “I think my ranch falls within the boundaries of the service area directly south and west of you. Is there a list of office phone numbers and addresses?”

  She ducked down and rummaged in a drawer, eventually coming up with a page of numbers. She circled one, then dismissed him perfunctorily and picked up her conversation where she’d left off. Linc mouthed a thank-you as he folded the paper and pocketed it. He’d call later. Right now, he needed to get back to his charges. He figured he’d left them alone long enough.

  AT THE ICE-CREAM SHOP, Miranda took charge of buying cones for the three younger children. Eric paid for the others. Miranda didn’t want one. What she did want was a few personal items from a drugstore. Parker hadn’t put shampoo, Band-Aids or any health-care products on the grocery list. Nor had it dawned on her until they’d gone back to the SUV and Jenny asked about shampoo.

  “Jen, I have money left over after paying for the ice cream. If you’ll watch the little kids a minute, I’ll dash across to the drugstore and grab what we missed.”

  “I want to go, too,” Jenny said. “I need some, uh, really personal stuff, like tampons,” she whispered.

  “Tell me what kind and I’ll buy them.” Miranda started for the door.

  “Wait. I don’t see why we can’t both go. Eric!” Jenny grabbed his arm. “Randi and I are going across the street to the drugstore. If you finish your ice cream and decide to go back to the van before we get back, be sure to take Hana and Cassie.”

  “I will,” Wolfie informed her. “I’m used to lookin’ out for them.”

  “See that you do, okay?” Jenny snapped. “And somebody tell Mr. Parker. We don’t want him driving off and leaving us.”

  “Like I’d tell him to wait for you.” Wolfie sneered. “I won’t let him forget Randi, though.”

  Eric obviously saw that Jenny was spoiling for a fight. He intervened. “Mr. Parker won’t forget. Especially not Randi.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Shawn stopped licking his cone.

  Eric acted smug. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen how the guy watches her.”

  “Watches her…how?” Jenny forgot her argument with Wolfie, just as she forgot that Randi stood outside the door waiting impatiently for her.

  Eric shrugged. “You know the look. Jeez! I noticed last night at dinner. This morning he showed more interest in our Randi than in his breakfast.”

  Shawn, who rarely countered Eric, did so now. “You’re just trying to make trouble. Mr. Parker knows the score. Why would he screw up what he’s trying to build at the ranch by getting too chummy with jailbait?”

  Jenny nodded. “Yeah, Eric. I know you don’t wanna stay at the ranch this winter. But don’t be ruining a good deal for the rest of us. You saw all the stuff Mr. Parker let us buy. He’s going to feed us and give us a warm place to sleep.”

  Greg, not to be outdone, chimed in. “Not only that, Eric. He handed you his car keys and a lot of cash. Name somebody else who’d do that. And you pay him back by calling him a dirty old man?”

  Eric simmered. “Go on, Jenny, get outta here. By the way, Shawn and I need disposable razors.”

  Jenny jerked a thumb. “Randi’s the one with money left. I’ll tell her.”

  Armed with the information, Jenny burst out the door. “Have you got enough money left to buy the guys a few things?”

  Randi narrowed her eyes skeptically.

  “Not what you’re thinking,” Jenny rushed to say. “Not condoms. Shawn and Eric asked for razors and Greg says they all need deodorant. That’s good, especially if we’re all going to get cozy in the house until Mr. Parker installs heaters in the bunkhouse.”

  Randi laughed. “I only have fifty dollars. But I suppose Parker—Mr. Parker—would thank us for spending it wisely.” She broke off laughing abruptly and took a deep breath. To get to the drugstore they had to pass a well-known ch
ain music store. Skidding to a stop, Miranda almost shrieked. In one window stood a life-size cutout of her as Misty. It was an ad for a brand-new CD. The one in the works at the time she left.

  Jenny, who’d scampered ahead, glanced back. “What’s keeping you? We probably don’t have much time left.” Jenny stared at Miranda, who had her nose pressed to the window.

  Thoroughly shaken, but not wanting her friend to see the likeness, Miranda forced her feet to move forward.

  Jenny did notice the store, however. “Gosh, you wouldn’t be considering using Mr. Parker’s money on CDs, would you? I mean, he’d shit a brick.”

  Miranda hustled Jenny on. “No, I wouldn’t. Use his money that way.”

  “I didn’t think so. Did you hear Mr. Parker say he’d pay the boys to till his fields?” She sighed. “It’s not fair to let them earn money and not us.”

  Breathing somewhat easier as they entered the drugstore, Miranda feigned interest in the shelves. All she really wanted to do was get what they’d come for and hope to heaven Parker was ready to leave town.

  “You’re acting funny.” Jenny had paused at the perfume counter where she tried in vain to capture Randi’s attention.

  Still shaken, but determined to avoid potential pitfalls, Miranda snatched up a basket and addressed Jenny’s remark about earning money. “Maybe he’ll hire us to work with the boys. That way we can earn money, too.”

  “Plowing is hot smelly work, I bet. I’d like to earn some bucks, but I don’t think I’d be any good at clearing fields.”

  “We could cook and keep house. I wish we’d thought of it earlier. Didn’t Mr. Parker say he was going to stop at an employment agency?”

  “Are you nuts? I told you I can’t cook. I mean, I actually burn water. Ask Eric.”