2

The answer was waiting for him back in the cabin as he sat for a cold breakfast while his horse gazed at the side of the cabin. A newspaper was sitting in the woodbin and he plucked it up, checking the date and finding it was only a month old.

This cabin was popular. Even more need to move on.

Jack settled to read it and came to the classifieds.

"Wanted: One Ranch Hand for general duties and light maintenance. Genuine enquiries only" Jack read it out loud and leaned back to consider, wondering if it was still available. Not that far, barely two day's ride and the area named was a pretty expanse with homesteads speckled across the landscape like freckles, the grazing so good.

He made a decision and was soon packed ready to go. He turned Barry in the direction of the new … whatever… and headed off hoping John would find himself somewhere to hunker down as well.

.

.

.

.

The house was simple and expressive as Jack pulled the horse to a halt and looked up. Two large stories, square windows and a nice porch with a wide veranda accessable from the second story windows that you could sleep on and stargaze. The gardens were well tended and he was relieved to see that, he didn't feel like he could do that without killing the wrong plant. Killing came too easy these days. He was still looking up when he felt eyes on him so he straightened his back and struck more of a pose.

"Is that gun real?"

Jack looked down with shock at the high pitched question and found a small child standing patently by his stirrup waiting for an answer, her hair the colour of dark honey her lips a little out and the scar on the side of her face tragic. He found himself swallowing anger.

"Daisy, come"

Jack looked back up to the porch and the man standing there, slapping his hip like she was a fucking dog and he felt his anger rise more as the child scuttled to him then … he picked her up and kissed the scared face as he whispered "Go tell Mamman you are allowed the milkshake now."

"Yes Sir" she squealed with glee as she was placed on her feet and she shot off inside like a bat out of hell as the man straightened to stare at Jack again, the aloof stare of a man high in the service of others.

"Tell your master I seek a word" Jack demanded and something shifted in the man's face before he turned and stalked inside, the tight arse mincing so delightfully. The man who followed him back out as large and … well … cuddly looking with a confused expression.

"I'm here about the job. I can do general fix-ups, know animals and can keep the Others off the stock" Jack said without preamble, "I've travelled the length and breadth of this world and am not afraid of hard work."

They stared at him.

It felt weird.

Then the suited servant turned and headed inside, the Master nodding as he looked Jack up and down, "You'll do then."

Jack noted that he had the same melodic voice of the other man, only rougher and he wondered where they had come from, exotic beasties. He then had a thought, "The girl. What happened to her face?"

"Her previous owner, stabbed the mother who was holding the child. The mother died and ...well … she came here." The man replied, "I'm Rhys. Welcome to Torchwood Home. Hope you are also not afraid of the stables. There is accommodation above it."

Jack walked with him towards the immaculate looking building, "So … you purchased her from the scoundrel?"

"No" Rhys said before stopping to face Jack, "The fucktard died. His entire stables came to us and we released the slaves, freed them. None of them wanted the baby, Ianto did."

"Ianto?"

"His name is Ianto. He is not one to fuck about with, has blades of his own and the ability to display his displeasure" Rhys warned, "there are other kids around here. Runaways, slaves, meaters."

Jack swung to stare at him, "Meaters."

"The Master of the House has purchased several from the meat man over the years. Some are re-homed once they learn manners but some stay. He does not give any away who are not wanting to leave and he follows their lives with deep interest" Rhys explained.

"How many children?" Jack asked as he realised he was not speaking to the Master at all, but another servant.

"Eight at the moment. Could change in a heartbeat" Rhys shrugged, "We love them all. Sweetlings. All are cherished and spoilt. Some so damaged they shy like the horses."

Jack decided he liked it here, this place seems to welcome waifs and misfits.

There might be room for him.

For a while.