“Dang,” she said putting the wheelbarrow down and turning toward Henry. “Must not want a job that bad, eh?”

Henry stopped, turned halfway toward her, and looked her in the eye. “I could use the job, ma’am. But to be honest, I’m just too tired to jump through hoops to get it.”

The statement struck a chord with Jessie. She knew about being tired and jumping through hoops. She had done it day in and day out when she lived in Denver. She knew what it was like to be at the end of your rope and be looking for one safe place to stop and take a breath. Standing there in the late morning sun, looking into Henry’s tired eyes, and against her better judgment, she suddenly found herself considering giving this cowboy a job. “That’s fair enough, Mr. McBride. What kind of work are you looking for?”

Henry was a little taken aback by the woman’s seemingly abrupt change in attitude toward him, but there was something in her voice that struck a chord with him, as well. There was suddenly a genuine kindness to it that caused him to turn the rest of the way toward her. “I can turn my hand to most anything,” he said quietly. “So I guess I’d take any honest job you’d have to offer.”

“We do need some help right now. But I doubt it’d be anything you’d be interested in.”

“Much as I hate to say it ma’am,” Henry forced a smile. “I ain’t in much of a position to be choosy. I’d be happy to take whatever you got, especially if it meant a steady paycheck for a while.”

“I’ll be honest with you Mr. McBride,” she said moving closer. “The job doesn’t pay much. $100 a week. But we can give you a place to sleep and three meals a day. After all, you don’t look like you eat too much.”

“Actually, ma’am, I’m a pretty good eater. I just ain’t had much of a opportunity to prove it, here lately.”

“Well,” Jessie nodded. “We can’t have that, now can we?”

“No Ma’am,” Henry smiled. “I guess not.”

“Just one more question, though,” Jessie stopped just short of getting ahead of herself. Her father had always told her to never hire any cowboy who smoked or wore gloves. Cowboys who smoked were always off somewhere having a cigarette when you needed them, and if they wore gloves, they were always putting them on before they could get anything done. As much as she hated to admit it, he had been right…at least with the cowboys she’d hired in the past.

“Do you smoke, or wear gloves when you work?”

Henry thought the question a little strange, but answered it anyway. “No ma’am,” he said. “Neither.”

“All right,” Jessie smiled reaching her hand out to shake his again. “Why don’t you go ahead and unload your gear in the bunkhouse, then come see me and I’ll show you around the place.”