Carrillo's Cowboy by Tee Smith (classic novels to read .txt) 📗

from America. What brings you to Harlow’s Bend?”

“Money . . . mostly.” He leaned against the door frame, his eyes dancing around the room. “Don’t get me wrong, I had a wow of a time in the states, but Australia is home. And with great adventure, comes great spending,” he let out a laugh.

His deep voice sent vibrations through the room and made Callie’s skin prickle a little. It had been a long while since she had heard a decent laugh. The locals did little more than grumble. There was never enough rain, never enough tourists, never enough of anything. Perhaps having someone around that knew how to laugh might not be such a terrible thing.

“So why here?” She pointed to the floor. “Why Carrillo?”

“As I said, ma’am, the old codger at the store told me you might be looking to hire,” he held out his palms, “so here I am.”

Callie mused for a moment, assessing him. “What skills do you have?”

“What do you need? I’m up for it. A bit of horse work, cattle, fencing?”

“I have a show coming up in two months. I can use you until then, after that, I don’t know.”

“Fair enough, ma’am. I’ll take whatever you can offer me.”

“Callie,” she stated, holding out her hand to shake his.

“Thank you, Callie.” Cody offered her a wide grin and took her hand in a firm, strong shake.

“You’ll be needing accommodation?” she asked but continued talking. “You’ll find the workers’ quarters across the way.” She waved in the direction of the homestead and dwellings. “There’s a communal kitchen, and each room has its bathroom. It’s empty at the moment, but with the show coming up, it will get pretty rowdy in there.”

Cody nodded his understanding, and she figured if he had been around the rodeo circuit, he was probably familiar with shared accommodation.

“All the beds are made. There is fresh linen in the storeroom near the laundry. I expect the area to be kept in reasonable order. You will have to take care of your cleaning. I don’t have a housemaid.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

“I’ll need your working documents so I can add you to the payroll. I’ll draw up a casual contract and have it ready for you to sign in the morning.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it. You won’t regret it.”

“Oh, and Cody,” she called to his back as he made his way through the door. “Please, don’t be picking my children up from the bus stop.”

He stopped still in the doorway, turning back to her.

“I’m sorry. They said they thought you had forgotten them, and I didn’t think . . . I didn’t mean any harm by it.”

She had forgotten them, or at least the time, but she wasn’t about to admit that to him. “You didn’t do any harm. I’m trying to teach them they can’t accept lifts from strangers.

“I understand,” he nodded.

“Good. Report to me in the morning to sign your contract, and I’ll have a list of jobs for you.”

“Thank you,” he repeated.

She watched as his jean-clad butt left her office, taking a rare moment of indulgence to check him out. Cowboys weren’t her thing, but there was nothing wrong with appreciating a fine-looking man.

Chapter Two

Stepping out of the shower, Cody reached for the towel he’d draped over the rack. It felt good to have a real shower, and spending a night in a real bed had been a high priority too. He’d been couch-surfing since his return from the states. Had expected to pick up some work in the city, but his contact had fallen through, leaving him high and dry.

Harlow’s Bend wasn’t exactly Eden, but a place to crash. Some dollars to line his pockets might get him back on the road again. The fact his new boss was easy on the eye wasn’t going to be too much of a drain on him either.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he reached for a second and scrubbed it through his hair before making his way into the kitchen. The quarters were old; the kitchen could do with renovating. It was usable, but the bright orange bench tops screamed seventies. The building itself was not unlike the homestead, which he guessed was built around the early nineteen hundreds, but the inside had clearly had work done over the years. He’d speculate it had initially been servants’ quarters, then laughed to himself, in a way it still was. With his stomach rumbling, he opened the overhead cupboards, then the lower ones, then finally the fridge.

“You’ll have to get your own supplies.”

The voice startled him, and he spun on his heel to find his new boss, Callie Carrillo, standing in the doorway.

“I see you found the towels.” She nodded at his bare, sculptured chest, her eyes wide as she took him in. He knew he had that effect on women; it was good to see that his new lady boss was no different.

“I, ahh . . .” she held up a stack of fresh white towels between her hands. “I just brought these over. I didn’t think there were any in here.”

“I found these on the bed. I hope that’s okay.” He indicted down the hall, where he had set up camp.

Her eyes followed his as if she didn’t know where he was talking about before returning to him. Her dark hair was pulled tight into a low bun; just a few strands framed her petite face. She wore a button-up shirt over black trousers, and dust-covered shoes finished off her look, giving away the fact that she didn’t spend all her time holed up in her office.

Dirt and dust were somewhat inescapable in these parts; drought had long set in Harlow’s Bend, as in much of the country. This made it harder to find work. Once upon a time, farmers were crying out for decent stockmen to help them on the land. These days, they were selling up their stock, and many moving on. It just wasn’t viable anymore.

“Yeah, no problem,” Callie finally responded