She could hear his heavy footsteps, the jingling of the spurs on his boots. Cowboy, she thought and wondered where he fit in. He was tall, too, almost as tall as her father, or her ex husband.
He came closer and she got a better look. He was stocky, but looked like he hadn't gone to fat. She didn't know if he was clothed all in black, or if it was a trick of the light. His hat was black, though, and he would have presented an intimidating figure if he hadn't been for her ex. No man was going to intimidate her again—ever.
"Can I help you?" his voice was on the deep side, but it was a pleasant voice, almost soft. He had asked politely but he clearly meant "what are you doing here, you don't belong here."
A challenge she liked. Puppy was growling softly, and her hackles were up. She told her to sit in a quiet voice, but she could tell her dog was on edge.
"I saw an ad in the Bozeman paper, you're looking for a ranch hand who would be willing to work their way up. If this means I start out shoveling shit that's fine with me. I don't mind cleaning stalls, it's peaceful work. I love horses, I'm not a great rider but can ride well enough to stay on the back of a horse and I like riding. I'm also a pretty good cook."
"I'm sure that will be appreciated. Have you had any experience working with cows" he asked. She had him a little piqued and that was a good sign.
"No, my dad inherited a ranch but couldn't afford to run cattle so we lived there and leased the pastures. I talked them into letting me help in exchange for them teaching me to ride. We got a couple of horses later on and my dad and I used to go riding."
"Where's your dad now?" he asked. Well, why are you asking me about that, she thought, it has nothing to do with giving me a job.
"My dad died of a heart attack a year ago. I got tired of Texas, too many memories, so I decided to see what Montana was like. So far, I like it." She started to tap her foot, a thing she did when she was getting impatient.
"What about that dog of yours? I don't like dogs running after the cattle or bothering the horses. I don't like dogs, period."
"Well," she said, looking him straight in the eye, "I don't imagine she cares much for you, either. But she's a German shepherd, she was bred to be a working dog. She can also be trained to be a watch dog, she kinda comes by that naturally. Either way, she and I are a package, if you have a problem with my dog, you have a problem with me."
In the dim light she could see the smile he was trying to suppress. "You got some ID and a social security number?" She handed him her "Amy Perez" ID. "Guess I should have figured you for a Mexican, although you'd fit in with the Native American population here. Would you be willing to learn to herd cattle? And are you sure you can ride a horse?"
"Yes, didn't you know that Mexicans can ride? And I mean it when I say I don't mind cleaning stalls"
"Well, Amy, you're at the right place at the right time. I'll pay you three hundred dollars a week to start. That's less than the hands but you'll have room and board. You'll have to pay for your own dog food. Let me take you to the bunk house and introduce you."
She was elated but dare not show it. She followed him as he led her to the hands' living quarters, a large room that held bunks and had a kitchen that could needed cleaning.
"This is Amy Perez, she's our new shit shoveler. She also tells me she'd a pretty good cook, maybe if you're nice she'll fix you dinner tomorrow." He left without saying anything else.
She was relieved to see that there were two other girls. That would go a long way towards helping her settle in. Laramie, a beauty with long blond hair, was engaged—maybe—to a tall Texas cowboy named Walker.
"Did you say you were Mexican?" he asked and picked up his guitar and started playing "El Paso", by Jimmie Rodgers. Her father used to sing it to her, and she knew every word. She began to sing along and harmonize with him.
"Well," he said as he put down his guitar, "At last, someone who has a musical ear," he said, "Guess the singing won't all be left to me now."
There was Kolby, an unlikely African American cowboy who had a big grin. Ryan, Lloyd, Jake and Ethan were the other names she remembered, but everyone was laughing and friendly and made her feel welcome.
It was clear the puppy would be spoiled, Everyone was petting her and fussing over her. It was obvious that she would have to watch and make sure that she didn't gain too much weight.
"Who was that big galoot who hired me? He didn't even offer his name. He's obviously boss man, right?"
"That's Rip Wheeler," the other female hand, Teeter, said, "Stay away from him. There's a blond hellion that lives in the big house, who has her claws sunk deep into him. He lives there with her and her father, the one who owns this outfit."
"Well, he's not my type so I'm not so worried about that. Which of you fools is supposed to be doing the dishes?"
"Jake, it's your turn, be nice or she might not cook for us. Are you good at making Mexican food?" asked Laramie.
Anicka decided to be a little boastful, "I grew up on it, I can make you a meal that is better than you'll find in any restaurant. I can make Cajun too, though I think I'd have trouble finding shrimp. All I ask is that if I cook for you, you clean up."
"You heard her, Jake," teased Laramie, "If you want dinner tomorrow night you better get those dishes washed."
The next day she made good on her promise and cooked a pan of beef and cheese enchiladas and beef chalupas. She found a Southwest Salad mix at the store, packaged salads were not cheating as far as she was concerned. Her dinner made her friends with the hands, and she knew she found a place she could call home, at least for a while.
She had decided to call the pup "Candy" and like the loyal companion that she was she followed Anicka as she cleaned stalls. The pup kept a respectful distance from the horses, though they would poke their noses over the stall doors to look at her. She was there at her heels as she filled the feeders with hay, then when they returned to the bunkhouse she plopped down on the floor.
So far she felt safe. No one asked her questions she couldn't answer with a half-truth. The hard part was to remember to not let her guard down. Who knows, one of them might hold the secret of what happened to her brother.
It was hard to remember to answer to "Amy". Although she practiced in secret it was not always easy to answer to her alias. They'd tease her, calling her a space case, but she didn't mind, it was all done in fun.
She felt like she was being accepted far more quickly than she thought. She and Laramie were talking one day, "I thought people up here would be cold to outsiders, but you all are treating me like I'm one of your own. Especially the guys."
"Well," said Laramie, "We're kind of isolated on the ranch, so we tend to stick together. You're pretty, so of course the guys like you, and you're a great cook. Remember, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and that's especially true for cowboys. They're even doing the dishes."
It was Rip she was having the hardest time figuring out. He didn't speak much but when he did his soft voice sounded louder than she'd thought possible. She would catch him watching her and it bothered her that she didn't know why.
She worked hard, Lloyd told her that she did a better job of mucking stalls than anyone else that who'd worked for them. She made sure that the ranch horses were fed, making sure that she gave them the right proportion of mash and hay. And the water buckets were always clean and full of fresh water. In short she was doing everything she could to avoid rousing suspicion.
And still Rip watched her.
Ramon had given her a list of people to use as references, and if they were all Mexican it couldn't be helped. If Rip tried to check the background of "Amy Perez" what would he find? Amy Perez didn't exist except to help her when she needed an ID. She'd used it to get a mobile phone and internet service for her laptop. Ramon had promised her that would be enough.
She was fixing breakfast for the gang, the morning was cold and she wanted to send them off with a hot breakfast. If anyone complained about her waking them they wouldn't be complaining by the time they sat down to something more than cereal. She'd fixed bacon and eggs and even made homemade biscuits.
Rip came in as they were sitting down to eat. They had plenty of time to eat, she had made sure by waking them up.
He looked around, "Looks good, do you have any more?"
"Sure," she said and handed him a coffee cup, "Sit down and I'll fix you a plate." She wanted to ask him why he wasn't eating at the big house with his farmer's daughter.
She put the plate in front of him, "There's butter and jam or honey for the biscuits. Ketchup, too, for those of you who can't eat eggs without it."
She loaded up a plate for herself and gave the puppy a piece of bacon. Even with the boss at the table she wanted to make sure that she finished and was in the barn at seven.
"This is good," said Rip, "It's been a while since the bunkhouse had someone who could cook like this, no offense, Jake," Jake looked up briefly and shrugged his shoulders.
"The reason I'm here," said Rip, "was to ask you if you'd like to ride with the hands today."
"I'd love to. What about the stalls and feeding the horses?" she asked, not believing her luck.
"Shouldn't take you long for that. Teeter will stay behind and help you pick out a horse and saddle it. She'll know where we're going."
"I'll help her, sir," Teeter said in her thick Texas accent. It was almost as good as being home to hear her and Walker talk.
Not all the stalls needed cleaning, and she left hay only where it was needed. Teeter saddled her horse and held out the reins saying, "Come on, you gave me a bit of a break."
She hadn't been on a horse in a while, and it felt good to be riding again. Teeter started out slowly, making sure she could keep up, then slowly increased their speed to a gallop. Anicka wanted to whoop and yell, she loved the way it felt to have her hair stream out behind her.
They reached the herd too quickly for her taste, she could have kept on riding. The hands began to help her out, showing her how to spot steers that had gotten away from the herd and how to use her horse to send it back.
Rip was busy, but she saw him watching her when he had a chance. What was going on, she didn't resemble Benito that much, she looked more like her brother Ramon. Maybe he was just overcautious, or suspicious but why? She did her job well, she made sure of that, she wanted to make sure he just ignored her and let her do her job.
Though there was little chance they'd discover her secret, she still worried. It was important that they didn't find out, and although she didn't think her ex husband would think to come all the way to Montana to try to find her, she still worried.
She had thought that she knew the man she had married, but a year and a half of dating she realized just how little she'd known. She wanted to be safe, she wanted to stay away from him, it was important that he did not find her.
She felt safe living in the bunkhouse, as safe as she could be knowing that something bad had happened to Benito, and it happened here. She wanted to talk about her brother, but she couldn't, she had to make sure that she kept her secret. Maybe one day there would be someone she could trust