Jessie wasn’t sure about the cowboy she’d just hired. But that wasn’t really a surprise to her. Judging character didn’t seem to be one of her strong suits lately; evident by the way she’d been struggling with making the right choices as far as her help went. The season was only a few weeks old and already she’d fired two wranglers and one housekeeper. As she sat at her kitchen table eating lunch, she was hoping the new cowboy would make it through the season, especially if he ended up being as good a hand as she thought he’d be. It would be nice to have some competent help around the horses for a change. Not that the help she had already wasn’t competent, because they were. Its just that they were all pretty young and not terribly self-sufficient, and as a result, she was spending more time than she wanted overseeing things at the barn—especially when Chad was away, like he was that week. Jessie had gladly sent him out to guide a group of guests on a five-day fishing trip to the Azul River. She was surprised at how good she felt after he was off the property and on his way with the guests. She was starting to think it would be nice when he was gone for good, after the end of the season when she could cut him loose and hopefully never see him again. But for the time being, he was handy to have around the place. Chad knew the workings of the ranch almost as well as she did, and kept things at the barn running smoothly. It was one less thing for her to have to worry about when he was around, but lately she was wondering if the trade-off was worth it.

It was for that reason she hoped the new cowboy would work out. He had the maturity she was looking for in her help, and although he was plenty rough around the edges, there was something about him she liked. He was sure of himself and of his abilities. Not cocky sure like Chad and some of the others she’d had around the place, but rather he had a wise assuredness that only comes from living the life of a stockman. Her father had it, and her grandfather on her mother’s side. She knew the look when she saw it, and knew it couldn’t be faked. She also knew if a cowboy had to tell you how good he was around stock, it was usually because nobody else would. She had seen the look of a stockman in Henry by the easy way he moved around the horses when she took him in the corral, and by the way he handled the ponies, even though it was obvious he didn’t want to be doing it. She hadn’t realized how much she missed having a fellow stockman around the place. Henry McBride was the real deal, and that was something she didn’t know she needed—but she did now.