some unknown reason, those photos alone had survived when everything else in the house was auctioned off.
In the evenings, after the tourists had left, the ranch would become eerily quiet. He and Annie would sit in the rockers or at the long oak table in the kitchen or lie on the squeaky mattress and box spring in the master bedroom and dream about the future.
If old Mrs. Litey, the longtime curator of the Gold Nugget, had caught them, she’d have skinned them alive.
And now, the ranch was Sam’s, thanks to the former owner deciding it was easier to sell the place than make the necessary repairs and upgrades.
A quick glance around revealed the ranch still needed a lot of work—starting with the corrals. The pine rails were broken and rotted in place and wouldn’t contain the horses he’d purchased that morning for very long. Fortunately, the construction contractor and his crew were arriving on Monday.
Sam walked over to greet the young cowboy emerging from the cab of the truck, a large shepherd mix tumbling out after him. Sam and Will Dessaro had spent a good two hours together, during which Sam inspected each horse in the High Country Outfitters’ string and negotiated the price. The deal was closed when he delivered the cashier’s check he’d obtained at the neighboring town fifteen miles away.
“You made good time.” He shook Will’s hand. The man’s grip was firm, his features strong and appealing. “Thought you might have some trouble loading all these horses by yourself.”
“Not likely.”
“Should we back the trailer up to the gate?” he asked.
“Don’t need to.”
This would be interesting, Sam thought as he watched Will open the rear of the trailer and lower the ramp. Only then did Sam realize all the horses stood loose, except for the first one. He alone was haltered and tied.
“Don’t you think you should—”
Before Sam finished his thought, Will was leading the haltered horse down the ramp. The nine others followed out of the trailer, one by one, nose to tail. The dog trotted along beside them. To Sam’s surprise, all ten horses stood quietly as Will opened the corral gate and then pushed inside, eagerly exploring their new home. Will swung the gate shut and latched it.
“I’m impressed,” Sam said.
“Not a contrary one in the bunch.”
Sam was a believer and convinced he’d made a good investment.
Together, he and Will unloaded bags of feed from the trailer’s front compartment and stacked them under the lean-to. Next, they ran a hose and filled the water barrel.
“Be back in an hour with the rest of them.” Will had promised he could deliver all nineteen horses in two trips, and it looked as though he was a man of his word.
“Any chance you can stick around afterward and maybe tomorrow? Help me with the horses?”
“Sure.”
“I’m not interfering with your job?”
“High Country Outfitters is out of business. You just bought what was left of my job.”
“Sorry about that.”
Will shrugged. “I noticed some of the horses have loose shoes.”
“Is there a farrier in town?”
“I did most of the shoeing for High Country.”
“Any experience with cattle?”
“My grandmother raised me. She ran near a hundred head.”
Will was looking better and better by the minute. He also knew the mountain trails.
“You’re not by chance good at cross-country skiing?”
“Have all my own gear.”
Well, well. “Anything you can’t do?”
“Cook.”
That made two of them. Lyndsey had already complained about breakfast and lunch.
Sam pushed his hat back and grinned. “You by chance in the market for a new job?”
“You offering me one?”
“I need a livestock foreman and someone to supervise the trail rides. Take guests on guided skiing excursions in the winter months. I’m thinking you have the experience.”
“Okay.” Will started toward his truck. His dog, resting in the shade of a bush, sprang instantly to its feet.
“Is that a yes?” Sam called after him.
“You need something in writing?”
He laughed. “We’ll talk details when you get back.”
“Fine by me.”
Sam decided he liked the Gold Nugget Ranch’s first official employee. The female guests were bound to like him, too, though Sam suspected Will would keep to himself.
Pressed for time, Sam went over to the corral and checked on the horses. Several bunched at the railing for a petting. The rest stared at him as if wondering why they hadn’t been given any pellets.
“When your buddies arrive.” He patted an overly eager black-and-white paint that could easily break through the railing if he weren’t so docile. “And when I figure out what exactly I’m going to use for a feed trough.”
By all accounts, there’d been no horses on the ranch since The Forty-Niners ceased production. He’d considered himself lucky to find that old water barrel in the barn.
There must be something else kicking around he could use. If not, he’d ask Will. The man struck Sam as being the resourceful type. And there was always the feed store.
He was halfway to the barn when a rusted-out sedan pulled into the ranch and stopped, the exhaust spewing a cloud of gray smoke when the engine was cut. Seconds later, a woman with an assortment of children spilled out of all four doors.
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Mr. Wyler? My name’s Irma Swichtenberg. These here are my children.”
The tallest, a teenager, tugged nervously on her hair while the shortest, a toddler, snuggled a stuffed toy.
“What can I do for you?” Sam asked.
“Miss Hennessy sent me your way.”
“Annie?”
“No, sir. Fiona. I worked for her. At the inn. Housekeeping. She said you might be looking to hire someone.” The woman swallowed nervously. “I’m a hard worker. Honest and dependable. Carrie watches the little ones for me so I won’t ever miss a day.” She placed a hand on the teenager’s shoulder.
Sam
