How many horses?
How often did shipments leave?
How far was the nearest doctor?
How difficult was winter access?
The cowboy answered every question directly.
One hundred eighty-seven cattle.
Four permanent hands.
Nine usable horses.
Shipments varied.
Doctor in town.
Winter access depended on snow.
Then she asked, “Why did you need a bookkeeper badly enough to hire someone you’ve never met?”
The cowboy looked straight ahead.
“My former bookkeeper stole from me.”
The ranch woman blinked.
“Oh.”
“He was my cousin.”
“That seems worse.”
“It was.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
She watched him.
“You trust me?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
The ranch woman stared.
The cowboy continued driving.
She began laughing.
He glanced over.
“That funny?”
“A little.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She tucked loose hair behind one ear.
“You hired me but you don’t trust me.”
“I hired you because your references were good.”
“That isn’t trust.”
“No.”
“What would earn it?”
He considered.
“Time.”
The ranch woman nodded.
“That seems fair.”
The cowboy looked at her again.
Most people, he would later admit, became defensive when he spoke so bluntly.
She simply accepted it.
That unsettled him.
The ranch appeared an hour later.
A sprawling collection of weathered buildings sat beneath the hills.
Main house.
Long barn.
Stable.
Bunkhouse.
Corrals.
Blacksmith shelter.
Storage sheds.
The entire place looked rough but strong.
Built to withstand storms rather than impress visitors.
The cowboy drove toward the house.
Two ranch hands emerged from the barn.
One stopped walking when he saw the woman.
The other whispered something.
The cowboy heard it.
“Back to work.”
Both disappeared immediately.
The ranch woman looked amused.
“Do they always obey that quickly?”
“No.”
“Why today?”
“They’re trying not to laugh.”
“At what?”
“Me.”
She smiled.
“Why?”
The cowboy set the brake.
“Because I hired a woman.”
“For bookkeeping?”
“Yes.”
“That’s funny?”
“To them.”
“Why?”
He looked directly at her.
“Because they are idiots.”
The ranch woman laughed again.
The cowboy found himself wanting to hear the sound a second time.
That concerned him.
He carried her trunk upstairs.
Her room overlooked the barn.
It was simple.
Bed.
Washstand.
Wardrobe.
Chair.
Small writing desk.
Fresh sheets.
A folded wool blanket.
The ranch woman walked to the window.
“You prepared this?”
The cowboy stood near the door.
“The housekeeper did.”
“I thought the ranch didn’t have a housekeeper.”
“It doesn’t anymore.”
“So who?”
The cowboy hesitated.
“I did.”
The ranch woman turned.