Wyatt thought grumbling beat leaning and decided he was going to aim for the foreman job. His first act would be to get these two to clean out this barn, and if they didn’t work fast, they’d be heading down the trail.

Wyatt knew Molly was waiting for him near the back door of the house, so they could go in together. He stepped back out into the ranch yard. The pine and snow were the scent of winter to Wyatt. He wanted to be home at the RHR with its massive fireplace. He wanted the winter days, when the cattle were on good grass, and the branding, roundup, and cattle drive were all done.

Instead, he was about to try to talk his way into a job for a possible murderer. Wyatt had probably done more half-witted things, but he couldn’t remember when.

“You’re hired! Both of you!”

Wyatt expected the man to jump up and down clapping.

Hawkins tore his eyes away from Molly to glance at Wyatt. “It’d be great if you’d take the foreman job, Wyatt.”

Then he looked back at Molly. “I’ve had the word out in town for more men and a few have come in. But no one’s applied for the housekeeping job.”

Though he didn’t say a word wrong, Wyatt didn’t like the way Hawkins’s eyes lingered on Molly. The idiot seemed more interested in the house than the ranch. And why not? He never spent time working his own land, his own cattle. He probably didn’t even know how to judge how things were going.

But the house, well, clearly the man could see dust and feel it when he struggled to get his own meals. The kitchen was filthy, dirty plates and burned-up pans everywhere. Half-eaten meals. Hawkins could clearly see his need for a housekeeper. He might’ve seen his need for better cowpunchers if he’d ever looked outside.

“I appreciate it, Oliver.” Wyatt stuck out his hand, and Oliver Hawkins looked back at Wyatt as if he’d forgotten Wyatt was there.

He narrowed his eyes and said, “I like those working for me to call me Mr. Hawkins.”

Wyatt only hesitated a moment. Now wasn’t the time to kick up a fuss. But by golly that time would come.

“I’ll remember that, Mr. Hawkins.”

Hawkins shook Wyatt’s hand briefly as if he were granting the help a favor. Yes, sirree, that time would come soon.

When Wyatt had come in asking for work, lacing in his complaints about his family, Hawkins appeared not to have one speck of trouble believing that. He accepted Wyatt’s story of being furious about his own ranch being taken over by greedy relatives almost like a man who had that story in his own life.

Of course, that could just be Wyatt being suspicious.