Nobody ever said life on a working ranch is exciting, and the Sunday Ranch was no different than thousands of others. Billy raised and sold cattle for both local consumption and for shipping off to market, as well as breeding purposes. In addition, he practically had a lock on the local market for pigs, and he supplied all of the cafes, diners, restaurants and cantinas with fresh eggs. The ranch was incredibly diverse and ran efficiently, partly due to the systems in place and partly due to the employees he had. His foreman was an older man named Clint Evers, and he'd worked for Billy for almost twenty years. Clint was the only one that knew about Billy's health problems.
Evers reminded me of Jess Wilson, Caroline's and now Samantha's foreman. Calm and quiet, he was all business with a friendly smile, just the kind of man you wanted in charge of everything. It ran economically and smoothly, and there really wasn't a lot for Billy or anyone else to do but show up and make decisions. Clint had long been the man in the valley you went to when your son or daughter was ready to learn not only how to ride but how to handle and care for a horse, and he had begun teaching Evy the skills she would need to carry on the effort. She liked helping the little ones learn, and had taken to it naturally. I wanted to make sure that she was able to continue.
I wasn't concerned with how many beds were full in the bunk house; that part was up to Clint. I just wanted to be sure that the ranch hands we employed were the right ones. As Billy had predicted, we were done with the days concerns right around lunch and headed back to the house. I went straight to my room to catch some shut-eye. Just as it had been ever since arriving in Las Cruces, my sleep was undisturbed and nightmare free. When I woke I lay in bed for quite a while, wondering just what was going on in that head of mine. Or, rather, not going on in my head.
I had regular dreams, just like everybody else. But on occasion, especially when there was something unusual going on in my life – and when wasn't there? – I had more than my fair share of what I would politely call nightmares. No, not like the hallucinations I'd had up on Lakota Mountain (those were organically induced), but the dreams I'd had about wives, families, brothers, fathers, and dozens of other people, places, and things that were peculiar. The nightmares had started when Momma died, but suddenly they seemed to have quit. As Brother Bret would say, "Odd, Bart. Very odd." And I had no explanation for the change.
I finally got myself out of bed and presentably dressed and wandered on out into the kitchen to see what Tenora could put together to fill my empty stomach. Once that problem was solved I found myself headed for Billy's study, where a game of billiards was in progress – between Billy and Evy. I watched the two of them, fascinated. The girl was every bit as good as her father, maybe even better. After she'd beaten him, she turned to me. "You next?" Evy asked.
"Oh, no," I protested. "I'm just a beginner – ask your father."
Billy nodded and laughed. "That he is daughter, that he is."
"What if I agree that Daddy can help you with your shots?"
"Seriously? Any kind of help?"
"Any kind of help," she giggled.
"Alright, I'm game." So I found the cue stick I'd used the other night, and we started. Needless to say, it was a massacre. Even with Billy's help she beat me so bad that it was just pitiful. Kind of the way I expected that I'd do to her in poker. By the time that game was over Lee Frazier had arrived to see Billy, and he and Billy played the next game while Evy and I went for a walk outside.
The moon had risen and all the stars were out; it was a beautiful night. We walked over to the corral and watched the yearlings run in the grass and dirt and play. Evy seemed to be in a relatively good mood, and I was feeling pretty fine myself. I rested a boot on the lower rung of the corral and lit a cigar, taking a long enough draw on it to get it lit. "What do those things taste like?" Evy asked.
I held it out to her. "Taste it for yourself."
She took it and took a draw herself, and in doing so she almost choked to death. "Awww! Awful!" she spit out, and I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing. "How do you stand it?"
"It's an acquired taste," I told her, and looked down into those dark black eyes. There was no more distrust or distaste in them, and without thinking twice about it, I leaned down and kissed her. For just a moment she kissed me back, then she pulled away and slapped me. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, then did my best to explain. "You were just so . . . so damn beautiful. "
"I was? I am? That's no excuse," she chastised me, and I threw the cigar away and pulled her in close, and kissed her properly. This time there was no slapping, and no pulling away. When the kiss was done, I stepped back and let go of her. "I thought you weren't going to court me?" she asked, almost breathless.
"I'm not," was my only answer.
"Then what do you . . . "
"A kiss, Evy, it was only a kiss. Not a marriage proposal. Can you accept it for what it was?"
"I . . . yes."
"You remind me of my sister . . . sort of."
"I thought the Mavericks only had men-children."
"She's actually our cousin. Jody. Lives in Montana. You don't look like her. But your personality . . . "
"Is that good or bad?"
"It's good. Jody's a great girl. We're really close, more like brother and sister than cousins."
"Did you kiss her, too?"
"No."
"Then why . . . ?"
"Let's just go back inside," I answered, too confused myself to explain. We settled down in the main room, and it wasn't long before Lee and Billy walked to the front door. Whatever Lee had come to discuss was handled, and we all bade him goodnight. Billy turned back from the door and looked straight at me.
"Tomorrow's Sunday."
Like I didn't know that. I nodded my head anyway. "So it is."
"You goin' with us?"
I nodded again. "I said I would."
"Just wanted to make sure you hadn't changed your mind."
"What time do you leave?"
"Around half-past eight."
I glanced over at Evy. "And you, Missy – I owe you a dinner. Tomorrow night at seven. Alright?"
Evy nodded and threw my impertinence right back at me. "I said I would."
"Touché."
"I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Bart. Night, Daddy," and she walked over and kissed her father on the cheek.
"Nothing for me?" I asked playfully.
"You already got yours," she insisted, and slapped me on the arm as she walked by me. I caught a peek at Billy just in time to see him wiping a grin off his face. Once Evy was gone I pulled out another cigar and lit it, offering one to Billy. He accepted, and we sat in silence and smoked for a few minutes. Finally he got up and stubbed out the rest of the cigar.
"You too?" I asked.
Billy let loose with a soft chuckle. "You haven't heard Reverend Wilcox preach yet. Better be well-rested when you listen to one of his sermons."
"Alright. I can take a hint. Goodnight, Mr. Sunday."
"Goodnight, Mr. Maverick."