Cowboy Heaven by Cheryl L. Brooks

content with his life.
    I respected Rufus. He was dependable and always had the best interests of the ranch first and foremost in his mind, but he was tough. I’d seen him working with young horses. Although he was understanding up to a point, the horses always seemed to sense they were up against a much stronger will than their own, a persistence that would outlast them, and a clear knowledge he would triumph in the end. It was simply a matter of time.
    In the interest of diplomacy, I figured it would be best to introduce Troy to Rufus and then let Rufus handle the rest of the introductions and the orientation to the ranch. I would let Troy decide what to tell the others about himself.
    â€œHey, Rufus,” I said. “This is Troy Whitmore. He was looking for work and Jenny Pennington sent him over since she didn’t need any hands. Dad and I thought he could fill in for Dusty for a while. He’s a rodeo cowboy and grew up on a ranch, so he should know what it’s all about.”
    Rufus stepped forward and smiled as he extended a hand to Troy. “Rufus Bentley. Welcome to the Circle Bar K.” As always, I felt there was something missing from his smile. Warmth, perhaps, or some other quality that would have made it seem more disarming, rather than a dictate of common courtesy.
    â€œThank you, sir,” Troy replied, giving Rufus a firm handshake.
    â€œWe were just about to wash up for dinner,” Rufus said. “Come along to the mess hall and we’ll go over the job with you after we’ve eaten.”
    I decided it was best for me to leave since the conversation would probably be much more interesting if I wasn’t around. “I’ll see you guys later. I’d better go fix dinner or Dad will be down here pestering you guys for something to eat.”
    â€œThat wouldn’t be a problem,” Rufus said, cordial as always. “Not for us, anyway.”
    Good ol’ Rufus. Always perfectly correct, perfectly polite, and perfectly neutral. Marriage with him would be like being married to a cardboard statue. Lifelike perhaps, but inherently lifeless.
    With a nod, I headed back to the house.
    * * *
    The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. Dad didn’t mention Troy, and I deemed it best not to introduce the topic. The way I saw it, the less I said about Troy the better. I didn’t want to run the risk of waxing poetic about his sexy eyes or his cute butt, subjects I knew Dad wouldn’t care to discuss with me or anyone else. I knew Jenny would, though, and I called her right after dinner.
    â€œDoes this mean you owe me one?” she asked after I’d told her about Troy.
    â€œOwe you what?” I was playing dumb even though I was pretty sure I knew the answer. Jenny was fond of men in general, which made it even more surprising she’d never found the right one. Perhaps she enjoyed shopping more than buying. “A favor or a cowboy?”
    â€œI’ll take either one,” she replied. “Although I’d rather have a nice, handsome cowboy. You know…big and tall with a handlebar mustache?”
    â€œYeah, I know the type,” I replied. “Haven’t seen one around lately.”
    Unless I were to count Bull Russell, our resident know-it-all, done-it-all cowboy. Bull had no hair on his head to speak of, but he did have a rather dramatic mustache. I’d never been able to figure out why a man who was so well versed in everything wound up working on a ranch. I could only assume it was because he truly was all bull, which might also have explained the nickname.
    Bull never failed to have a story to tell about any topic that was mentioned. No matter the job, he’d done it, and no matter the person, he knew their cousin. If asked whether he’d completed some task or other, he never replied with a simple yes or no, but with, “Well, I’m gonna do that when…” or “I didn’t do that