There was random stuff placed everywhere. Boxes and some newspaper tied up with twine were on one side, and horse gear and work clothing, as if tossed aside and out of the way, were on another side of the room. Although his house was cluttered, it wasn’t downright filthy. But it definitely hadn’t been deep cleaned in… ever.
We stepped into the retro-style kitchen, which surprisingly was cleaner and less cluttered than what I’d seen so far. And my assumption was that this room wasn’t used as frequently. I knew from experience, when I lived with my father and from growing up on the ranch, they worked the majority of the time, and only if someone was in the kitchen cooking meals or cleaning the house did those things get done. More times than not, they just got quick things to eat. The thought of Dalton telling me about his bologna sandwich was all too familiar with how my father had been.
He walked over to the kitchen table, one that looked handmade, carved out of a thick slab of wood. It was gorgeous with detailing around the edges, a very cabin-esque feel to it. He pulled the chair out for me, and I sat down, giving him a thankful smile.
“Do you want something to drink? Unfortunately, all I have is water or some coffee that was made at the ass-crack of dawn this morning.”
I shook my head. “No, thanks.” I set my resume on the table and gently pushed it toward him. “I don’t have much experience from a business standpoint, but my dad owned the Spur Tex Ranch here in Falls View, and I used to do all the cooking and cleaning for him.”
He grabbed the resume and nodded. “Your dad was Wilbur Spur?” He lifted his head and looked me in the eyes.
I nodded and felt my throat tighten from emotion.
“I’m really sorry about his passing. I didn’t know him, but I knew his ranch helped a lot of people in town, not just with supplies but also with employment.”
“Thank you,” I said softly. I didn’t want to get into this, because I knew my emotions would overcome me. I might have moved off the ranch, but I stayed close, always checking up on him, helping when I could. His death had been sudden and hard, but I knew my dad would have wanted me to be strong. He’d want me try to think positively and move forward.
And that’s what I was trying to do.
For the next ten minutes, he looked over the resume, asking me about other experience I had, and then he set the piece of paper down and leaned back in the chair.
“I’ll be honest,” he said, and I felt my heart drop to my belly. “I only had two applicants. You and some college kid.”
I didn’t know if this would end up being good or bad, but I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “I may not have outside of the home experience in what you’re looking for, but I know how to keep ranchers and working staff fed well.” I gave him a smile and held my breath. I needed this job.
Really damn badly.
“And you’re good with cleaning up after a bunch of pigs? ‘Cause that’s what me and the ranch hands are,” he said and chuckled, shaking his head and looking away. “I’m ashamed to admit that, but you worked on a farm, so you know how it is.”
I nodded. “I know how it is, and it doesn’t bother me.”
He was silent for a moment as he watched me. I had my hands on my lap under the table, picking at a thread on my shirt, trying to outwardly appear like I wasn’t nervous.
“Have you given any thought about pay? I could swing two hundred a week, but that’s on top of room and board. Is this something doable, or we can negotiate?”
I cleared my throat and shifted on the chair a little bit, feeling uncomfortable discussing money but knowing it needed to be done. Two hundred a week sounded incredible, plus room and board? Yeah, this would solve a hell of a lot of my problems right now.
“How do you feel about that? Is room and board a good addition to eight hundred a month?”
I didn’t want to seem overly anxious, but it sounded like he was offering me the job. I also wanted to be honest about my situation, so he knew I was in this for the long-haul and wouldn’t flake out on him. “To be honest, having room and board is a major plus right now.” I didn’t want to tell him about all my financial troubles, but I did want to be straightforward. “Because losing the ranch, and the debt my father had, pretty much left me with… nothing.” The sympathetic look on his face was genuine. But I didn’t want to be a sob story, didn’t want handouts. “I’m a hard worker. You won’t be disappointed.” I kept twisting my hands together, because I was so damn nervous.