the room that had once belonged to him. Maybe she should have arranged to meet at his place.
“I have my papers here,” he said, shifting his attention back to her.
“Your papers?” Ellie asked with a lift of her eyebrows.
“Yeah. Ryan said that you’d want a rundown of what I do.”
“Oh, yes. Of course. Thank you.” She reached out for the papers, watching to see if his hands shook at all. Nope. Steady as a rock. He’d written out his job description on plain white computer paper in careful block letters—all caps. No sign of unsteadiness in his handwriting, either, and since he had to have written this today, after being warned by Ryan, she decided not to jump to any conclusions about him being an alcoholic.
But he had been drinking heavily recently. His red-rimmed eyes, shining vividly blue in his lined face, gave testament to that. That and her hypersensitive sense of smell, thank you very much, progesterone.
“I, uh, put down everything I could think of, but might have left some stuff out because I didn’t know what you wanted.”
Ellie smiled, remembering her vow to keep an open mind. “Of course you didn’t. I’d planned to let you know what I wanted when we met, but apparently Mr. Madison beat me to it.”
“Ryan’s efficient.”
Ellie ignored the plug for Ryan and took a minute to read what the old man had written. He gave detailed information about cattle breeding and lineages he favored. He outlined the cattle-production schedule and had a section where he listed prizes and awards he’d won with his bulls.
“So your expertise is cattle breeding.”
“It’s what I do.”
“And around the ranch, what are your management responsibilities?”
“Well, Ryan takes care of the pastures and grazing. Francisco does the mechanic-ing, keeps all the equipment running, maintains the buildings and roads and such. We’re all on duty during calving.”
“And you run the breeding program?”
“I do.”
“Do you and Ryan and Francisco meet?” The old man wrinkled his forehead and Ellie said, “How do they know what to do and when?”
“Common sense is a big help.”
“So you don’t outline jobs for them?”
“If I see something that needs done, I mention it, but these guys are pretty much self-starters.”
“Describe an average day for me.” Another frown and Ellie explained, “I worked for a large software company until recently. I’m not familiar with ranching.”
“Then why are you here?” he asked pointedly.
“To get familiar.”
Walt took a deep breath, as if calming himself, then said, “On an average day I help feed the cattle. I might check fences. I might dig postholes. I might run the tractor or muck out the corrals. I might deal with irrigation.” He gave a frustrated movement of his hands. “It all depends on the day and the season.”
“I see.” She decided to shift gears. “As the supervisor, are you satisfied with Mr. Madison’s and Mr. Garcia’s job performances?”
“They’re still here, aren’t they?”
She looked down at the paper Walt had given her, then back up at the old man. “My job is to collect information about how this ranch is run and organize it so that my aunt and uncle can see what present practices are in place and move forward. When the consultant arrives—”
“What consultant?” Walt snapped, his eyebrows coming together fiercely. “I’ve heard nothing about a consultant.”
Probably because you aren’t very good at communicating with your boss and are therefore skating on thin ice.
“Later this summer a ranch consultant will be evaluating practices at the Rocky View. I’ll act as liaison between him and my aunt and uncle.”
“Who is it?”
“The consultant? I don’t know his name.” Although that was on her list of things to talk to Milo about once she’d settled in and could get hold of him.
Walt shifted in his chair, his expression tight, threatened.
“When’s he coming?”
“Later this summer and, before he comes, I want to be well familiar with the ranch. To do that, I need some idea of the hierarchy,” she explained patiently. “How decisions are made. When they’re made and by whom.”
Walt let out an exasperated breath. For a second she thought he wasn’t going to answer, then he said, “Ryan makes the decisions on the pastures and grazing. Francisco handles the maintenance and I handle the breeding program.”
“That sounds like three separate entities rather than a team being managed by one person.”
“Look, Miss...” He frowned as he fought to remember her name and then gave up. “This system works. Now, I’ll admit to hitting some hard times, but after Ryan came on...things changed and we’re making money again.”
Some, according to Milo, but not a lot. “A business needs one manager,” Ellie persisted. “Not three people working independently.”
“It has one. Me.”
Ellie sighed. He wasn’t getting it and it looked, judging by the expression he wore, that he was thinking the exact same thought. They both jumped when a knock rattled the back door.
“That’d be Francisco,” Walt muttered. “He has some business in town tonight and wanted to get this over with before he goes.”
“Maybe we can talk some more later,” Ellie said as Walt got to his feet. Obviously in his mind the interview was over.
“Yeah. I’ll just tell Francisco to come on in.” He was moving toward the door so fast that Ellie was surprised that she didn’t get the Doppler effect.
Milo was correct—this guy needed work on his communication skills. And Ellie needed to keep an eye on him to see if his drinking was a problem.
* * *
“SHE’S BRINGING IN a ranch consultant,” Walt repeated as he paced along the cedar rail fence behind the bunkhouse. He stopped to glare at Ryan. “You know what happened to the Vineyard Ranch when they brought in George Monroe to consult. That asshole.”
“Nothing saying it’s going to be George.” But Ryan had a bad feeling it was. The Bradworths and the Kenyons, who’d bought the Vineyard a few years ago, were friends. The Kenyons were probably the reason the Bradworths had bought the Rocky View.
“It’s George,” Walt growled.
Ryan coiled his rope. There’d be no focusing
