“Can you recommend a place to stay?”
“Sure. See that cabin over there? It’s what we call a two-fer. Got two sides to it. One is occupied by the lady Red’s off fishin’ with. We try not to book the other half, so she can have her privacy, but seein’ how she’s gone anyway, you can bunk there for the night.”
The man shook his head. “It’s damn sad.”
“What’s that?”
“She showed up here over a week ago, on some sort of sabbatical. That’s why we don’t book the other half of the cabin. You can hear her cryin’ somethin’ fierce sometimes, mostly at night. Lost her husband a while back, in the war. I doubt she thinks anyone hears her, but we do. Red took her under his wing right away. They spend a lot of time fishin’.”
“Who is this Red guy anyway?”
The man waved his hand in a sweeping circle. “Red owns every bit of land as far as your eye can see. He owns this place, too.” He laughed then. “Folks would pay good money to have Red as their fly-fishing guide for even a couple of hours, but he refuses to do it. For her, he does it for free.”
“Why?”
“Can’t say, but he seems to be enjoyin’ himself, so who are we to tell the boss to stop.” The man kicked at the dirt. “Red lost his wife about a year and a half ago. We been worried ’bout him since. He’s a generous boss and all-around good guy. If he feels like fishin’, he can fish. Name’s Wyatt, by the way.”
“Jace Rice, nice to meet ya.”
“Trail ride later on, with a damn good chuck wagon dinner if you’d like to join us.”
“Appreciate it.”
“Meet me at the main barn at six, and I’ll get you seated on a horse.”
“I spent a few summers working a dude ranch,” Jace told Wyatt as they saddled the horses.
“Oh yeah, where at?”
“In Colorado. A place called Black Mountain Ranch. Ever heard of it?”
“No, can’t say I have. Nice place?”
It was nice, but nothing like this place. Idaho Rocky Mountain Ranch was situated in the Sawtooth Valley, with a spectacular view of the mountains by the same name. The front porch of the main lodge offered a view of Heyburn and Horstman Peaks as the backdrop to Pettit Lake, where their sunset ride would take them.
Jace gorged himself on applewood-smoked baby back ribs and soy-glazed local salmon, which were served at the fanciest chuck wagon dinner he’d ever seen.
“Damn, this is good,” he said to Wyatt.
“Red likes the best.”
Jace looked forward to meeting Red more than seeing the bull he had for sale.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Ask away, Bree. Ol’ Red Dugan only keeps his fishin’ spots a secret, everything else is fair game.”
“You aren’t very good at keeping those a secret either.” Bree smiled. “You’ve spent almost every day of the last week playing my fishing guide. It isn’t that I don’t appreciate it, but are there things at the ranch you’re supposed to be doing? I mean, other than babysitting me?”
“First of all, what makes you think you aren’t babysitting me?”
Bree raised an eyebrow.
“And second, they’re pretty good about lettin’ me do whatever I want over at the ranch. Ain’t like I’m much of a hand anymore at my age.”
“You could probably run laps around any of the other cowboys over there, and you know it.”
Red laughed and threw his arm around Bree’s shoulders. “You’re good for this ol’ guy’s ego, but I know better.” He stopped and opened the door for her. Bree put her hand on his shoulder and climbed up into the truck.