Читать книгу Finally a Hero - Pamela Tracy - Страница 13

Chapter Five

Currently, there were thirty-two people seated in the dining room of the Lost Dutchman Ranch. Most were already finished with their meals and just sitting around, talking. It was too hot to do anything else.

“We really need more than eighty guests,” Eva fretted, setting her tray on the picnic table closest to the kitchen door. That was another marketing strategy. She wanted enough guests and enough conversation to hide the sounds of clanking plates and Cook complaining about how slowly the potatoes were boiling.

“We have room for more than eighty,” Patti said. “We don’t need eighty. Your father’s not worried.”

“Of course not. He’s sitting with the couple renting our number five suite in the Rawhide section. The man used to rodeo like Dad.”

“Friend of your dad’s?” Patti asked.

“No, but he found our place because he did a Google search for Dad’s name. Apparently he’s putting together some sort of rodeo reunion, and Dad’s name was on his list. When he read about the Lost Dutchman Ranch, he decided to combine work and play.”

“They look rich enough. Wonder why they didn’t reserve a cabin?”

“Maybe they’re rich because they know how to be careful with their money.”

That reminded her. She’d watched Jesse at the diner peel bills from a small, dwindling roll. He was a man who didn’t have much money to be careful with.

“Actually,” Eva said, “they chose Rawhide because of the name. Thought it sounded Western. They plan to come again next year and stay in Boomtown.”

Eva’s father had named the lodging areas at the Lost Dutchman. The five suites were in a section called Rawhide. The five cabins were in Boomtown. The single bedrooms—seventeen of them, motel style—were in Tenderfoot.

“They’re perfect guests,” Patti said. “They already know how to ride, they like to hike without a guide, and the only complaint they’ve made had to do with the temperature going above a hundred and five.”

Eva glanced over at the people. Both were dressed in jeans and long-sleeve shirts, compared with the rest of the room—most in cotton shirts and shorts.

Shaking her head, she went back for seconds. Meals were buffet-style, a help-yourself kind of meal, with only one server walking around and making sure all the guests had what they needed.

The dining room was in the back of the main house. Picnic tables held guests, visitors and employees. The atmosphere was meant to be fun and relaxed. They did not serve a four-star meal. Tonight’s menu was barbecue pork, beans and potato chips. All homemade by Cook, an ex-rodeoer. His specialty was Mexican food, but actually there wasn’t a food type he couldn’t produce.

As Eva returned to her seat, she checked out the back of the dining room where a kids’ area—complete with a television for watching movies or playing video games—hosted about a dozen children of various ages.

At least ten of today’s customers were not guests of the ranch but townies and tourists.

Absent were Jesse Campbell and his son.

Eva knew this because she’d stared down the path to the barn at least a dozen times. The little boy had to be hungry. For that matter, so did Jesse.

“Hey,” Patti said, “you only got a bun.”

By the time Eva came back with actual meat on her bun, Patti had left to close down the front desk, and her father had moved over to join her.

“They’re usually four o’clock eaters,” he explained, referring to the couple renting in Rawhide. “Now they want to go relax. Imagine having time to relax.”

Eva knew what her father’s day typically looked like; relaxation wasn’t on his schedule.

“So, Dad, why isn’t the new hire here?”

“He called and said the little one was sound asleep and they’d be taking it easy tonight.”

Eva leaned in. “Dad, did you get the whole story from him? About how he came to have Timmy?”

“Jesse said his mother showed up at the prison to pick him up. She had the little boy in the backseat. He claims he didn’t even know he had a son, and apparently Jesse’s mother wanted nothing to do with her grandson.”

“He’s telling the truth. I was at the Miner’s Lamp when they pulled into the parking lot. I overheard the introduction.” Eva wasn’t sure where she was going with this conversation. She felt bad for Jesse, of course, and all that he’d gone through so unexpectedly. But what she really wanted was to express to her father was that right now, they couldn’t afford another hand, especially one that came with a second mouth to feed.

“Hard to imagine having a kid and not knowing he existed.” Her dad frowned and looked around the dining room. In the back area, a mother had joined her two children, and together they worked on a puzzle. Near the restroom, a young mother rocked a baby. On the wall above the entrance hung a portrait of all the Hubrechts. Jacob, Naomi, Eva, Elise and Emily. Smiling. Happier days.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Jacob said. “You need to be a little more understanding. Mike Hamm says that of all the men he’s studied with this past year, Jesse is the most receptive. When Mike was working with him, talking about career choices, Jesse kept referring back to his two summers working with horses. Kid had a rough childhood and made some mistakes. Maybe being here will keep him from making more. He needs someone to take his side.”

“Kid? How old is he?”

“A year younger than you.”

“What kind of mistakes? Why was he in prison?”

“You don’t need to worry about it. I will tell you he was more an accomplice than outright criminal, and there’s no record of violence.”

Eva could only shake her head. “He worries me, Dad.”

“Everything worries you.”

“That’s not true,” she protested.

“Think of this,” her dad said, waving a potato chip at her. “Jesse offered to work for free, just have to room and board. Now, really, who should be worrying? You or him?”

“Him,” she said, humbled.

Her father nodded. “He kinda made me think of how the apostles must have felt, entering towns with no provisions, no bread, no money, no extra shirt. I didn’t want to watch Jesse shake the dust off his feet because I didn’t try to welcome him.”

“That’s a stretch, Dad.”

“Is it?”

To Eva’s chagrin, she didn’t have an answer. Playing it safe and selfish didn’t seem much of an argument.

Probably because she’d been using it too long.

* * *

Jesse sat slumped in the easy chair, watching his son sleep, and wondering how his first day of freedom could have gone so wrong.