Breathless(14)

Kent understood. When a long-time owner sells, or as in this case dies, a new regime often brings change to the old employees along with a level of uncertainty as to how the place will be run. “Is it cattle or horses?”

“Horses mostly but he has a small herd of longhorns.”

“What about the other hands? How many are there?”

“Small outfit so only five counting the foreman. Blanchard used to break wild horses to supply the army but demand’s faded. He now buys from an outfit up near Prescott and sells to individuals. He also maintains the mounts our guests ride.”

“So no riding up to Montana or Wyoming for wild mustangs.”

“No. Is that a problem?”

“Not really. Spent almost a decade chasing and breaking stallions and mares. After busting my collarbone twice, my wrists too many times to count, and my leg in two places a few years back, being a gentleman foreman may be just what I need at my age.” The leg break had been so severe that, though healed, it still pained him in damp weather.

Rhine cracked, “You are getting fairly long in the tooth.”

“Yours will always be longer.” The shared grin reminded Kent just how much he’d missed having him in his life.

They spent the next few minutes talking about salary. Kent thought the figure Rhine offered to be fair.

“As I said, Portia’s been handling Blanchard’s books and payroll, and I don’t see that changing once I’m the new owner. She’ll also take care of ordering of any supplies you can’t get in Tucson.”

Kent wondered how she’d feel about his taking over as foreman. He found himself looking forward to interacting with her on a regular basis.

“You’ll need to sit down with her and go over how the dude ranch visits are handled, too, since she’s the one who coordinates it all. Any questions on anything we’ve talked about so far?”

“No. I would like to ride over and take a hard look at the buildings and the stables, but out of respect for his passing, I’ll wait until after the funeral.”

“The wake will be at his place, so you’ll be able to see some of it, if you want to go.”

“I only met him at the party last night but I liked him, so I would like to pay my respects if that’s okay.”

“That would be fine.”

“Are the other hands staying on?”

“They said they’d let me know after the funeral.”

“Did you tell them you were bringing in a new foreman?”

“I told them there was a good possibility.”

“Were any of them hoping to move up to foreman?”

Rhine considered that for a moment. “I don’t know that either. I probably should have considered that.”

“Yes, but then I wouldn’t have a job, so we’ll wait and see what happens. If they all decide to move on, we’ll hire new men. It may take some time but the work will get done.” Kent was accustomed to putting in a full day’s work so if he had to run the place shorthanded for a while he would. “Anything you want me to do in the meantime? All this sitting around is wearing on me.”

“As a matter of fact, I do. How are you at chopping wood?”

Kent shrugged. “I’ve chopped a few piles in my life.”

“Good. The kitchen always needs wood and Eddy says they’re running low. The man who usually does it hasn’t shown up for the past week or so. Not sure if he’s quit on us or what, but there are enough logs out by the barn to keep you busy for a few days.”

“Okay. You spoke of the wake. When’s the funeral?”

“In a few days, I suppose. His daughter is his only family so there’s no one else she has to wait for to arrive.”

Kent wondered who’d mourn him when his time came. He assumed his father would see the Pearly Gates first but afterwards? There were no other Randolphs either—at least as far as he knew. Burying the maudlin thoughts, he asked Rhine, “I assume you’ll want me living there as opposed to here?”

Rhine nodded. “He has a nice-sized place so you may as well move into the house.”

“Where’d the old foreman stay?”

“Bunkhouse.”

Kent mulled that over for a moment, too. If the other men stayed, he wondered how they’d feel about him being in the old man’s house, or if they’d care. It could pave the way for some resentment and he didn’t want to start off that way. He supposed he’d have to wait and see. No sense in worrying over something that might come into play. “How about I decide after I talk with the hands, if they stay.”

“How about you simply move into the house. I don’t want it sitting empty.”

He nodded. “Whatever you say.”

“Good. Anything else for now?”

“No. I’ll get started on Eddy’s wood. Where is it?”

“I’ll show you.”





Chapter Four




Carrying the Blanchard ledgers and receipts Rhine wanted her to review, Portia decided to check on Regan before heading to her office. She knocked on the connecting door to her sister’s room and when Regan answered, stepped inside. Unlike her own neat-as-a-pin living quarters, Regan’s always resembled the aftermath of a storm. All the gowns she must have considered wearing last night were lying across the bed and over the backs of chairs, the shoe choices covered the floor, and her vanity table was a chaos of face paints, hair brushes, and combs. Accustomed to the sight, Portia ignored it and concentrated on the sadness in her sister’s eyes. “How are you feeling?”