Chapter Two
Previously:
Carson came out of his thoughts once he was inside the Cattleman's dining hall. He looked around for a few moments. While he didn't see the man he was looking for, he did see Jarrod Barkley sitting at the corner table. 'Wonder if he'll dismiss what he might see in me the way Fred did once he realized I was 'mute'.' Carson silently wondered as he passed one table after another in order to approach Jarrod's table.
Jarrod saw the stranger enter the building but paid him no mind. That is, until he realized the man was heading for his table. He sat up a bit straighter when the man stopped next to the table and pointed towards the empty chair and gave him a questioning look.
'He's deaf.' Jarrod thought -even as he nodded, even as the gentleman pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to Jarrod. It was actually the paper the stranger had written on when communicating with Tobias and the sheriff. Carson figured there was no need to write out the fact that he was a mute yet again when he still had that particular paper on him. By the time Jarrod had finished reading the paper, Carson had pulled a chair out and sat down.
Jarrod might have said something only a young, brunette haired waitress in her early twenties had approached the table and was asking Carson if he wanted anything. Soon, she too found herself reading Carson's reply.
"I'll get you the sandwich and drink you want, Sir." The young woman turned around and walked away.
While Carson had been writing out his order, Jarrod had been taking a closer look. Like the sheriff, Jarrod found himself looking at the man's eyes and; like Fred, he was troubled by the fact that he felt strongly he should know the man. 'I know who I think of when I look at those eyes' Jarrod mentally shook his head. "Only he is dead and-with the exception your height and eyes, you look nothing like him. Who else would I have met that has those eyes?' Out loud, he asked if there was something he could do for Carson. There had to be something...there were plenty of empty tables, yet the man had made a point to join Jarrod. "I don't know if I can help you or not, only I will do my best. That is, if I can indeed be of help."
Carson turned the paper he'd been using over and starting right once more. He then handed the paper to Jarrod.
Jarrod took the paper and read. "No- well, not unless you know a ranch that will hire a mute."
Jarrod felt strongly there was more going on than the stranger looking for work. However, with no proof he didn't feel like he could debate the issue with the stranger. The fact that something was off, and he didn't know what, almost had Jarrod wishing the man good luck in finding something. However, he could still hear McColl talking to Barrett; the two employees – who would be gone on the spring round up before Jarrod arrived home- had been talking as Jarrod rode out of the yard.
"We need more help. We're just too short handed." Barrett was talking to the Barkleys' foreman. "This round up is going to be murder with as little help as we have. Wish they'd find some more men."
"They'll find more help." McColl grinned as he added, "Just not for this trip."
"Hardy-har-har," Barrett feigned disgust at the comment only to shake his head and chuckle. McColl was always stating the obvious if it meant getting even the slightest reaction from any of the men.
'Guess the best way to find out what else is going on is to hire you,' Jarrod looked up from the paper and told Carson about the shortage of help he and his family had. "My brothers just left for the spring round up only I promised I'd keep my eyes open when it came to finding more help." He went on to tell the man what the pay would be and, if he needed it, he could live in the bunkhouse. "Though, if I'm not out of line, I have a suggestion."
'Your ideas were always good, no reason to think that's changed.' Carson thought as he wrote I will listenon the paper Jarrod had handed back to him. 'Going to have to get more paper' Carson thought as he slid the paper back to Jarrod.
"A dear friend of my family and her young ten year old daughter are living with us. That is, until they can find a place here in town. The child, Ava, is deaf. We have been learning sign language in order to communicate with her. I know you're not deaf only why not learn that language? Granted, the person your talking to would have to know the language as well. Still, it might save you some paper and pencil along the way." Jarrod said just as the waitress brought the food Jarrod's visitor had ordered.
Carson smiled as the young woman put the food in front of him. He quickly wrote THANKS on the napkin that now set in front of him, making sure the young woman saw it.
"You're welcome." She smiled before walking away.
Once the waitress had left, Jarrod asked if Carson minded meeting him at the sheriff's office once Carson was through with his meal. "I have to go talk to either the sheriff or his deputy for a few minutes before I head home. Afterwards, we could ride to the ranch together. No need for you to spend the night in town."
While Carson knew it would be the deputy that Jarrod would find in the office-unless Fred had returned to the office for some reason, he wasn't about to write that fact out on paper. After all, Jarrod would want to know how Carson knew it was Fred's house the sheriff had gone too. That being the case, Carson simply nodded and continued eating as Jarrod turned and walked away.