A Christmas Cowboy to Keep

by Hebby Roman

  “Really?” Kiki snagged her gaze. “Say, I know you live in New York, but I think Gar mentioned you’re from Argentina or some place. They do a lot of ranching around there?”

  “Out in the area called the Pampas. I grew up on a ranch near Corrientes, a small provincial town, until my father died. Then we lost the ranch. Like Aaron, I was an only child. My mother and I moved to Buenos Aires. She took employment as a housekeeper. It was all she knew to do.”

  She gazed at Kiki, wondering why she was so easy to talk with. She’d barely told Liana the few details she’d already shared with the young office manager, and she’d spent several days with her new-found friend.

  It was odd, she’d opened up so easily to Kiki, though it made a strange kind of sense. The office manager had the kind of personality that was an asset in her job, getting people to talk about themselves.

  “So, your father was a cowboy, huh? I’d love to hear about ranching there.” Kiki touched her shoulder. “We’ll have to go to lunch.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Hey, since we’ve got some extra time, want to get the quickie tour?”

  Sofia got to her feet. “Please, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  She was curious about the place. Eric had admitted her son without her consent, and she’d had to ask his New York probation officer where her son had been sent. She’d refused to beg Eric for the information.

  “Okay, follow me.” Kiki waved her through the office door.

  Kiki showed her the offices, a coffee room, and a room for group counseling with smaller cubicles for one-on-one psychologist visits. There were several classrooms, some of them occupied, one that was empty.

  Attached to the office complex by a long, covered walkway, were the boys’ dormitories, three spacious rooms, where the boys were housed according to age. At the back of the dormitories was their TV/rec room, complete with a billiard table, their kitchen, dining hall, and a full-sized gym.

  The place was clean, modern and homey.

  She’d met a couple of the boys’ teachers, along with a young female psychologist, a Dr. Myerson. Kiki introduced her to some of the other staff, too. She’d met Kyle Goodwin, who was the foreman of the ranch, and Sally Ferguson, one of the dorm Moms, along with Juan, the janitor, and two cafeteria ladies preparing dinner in the kitchen.

  She’d greeted and petted the resident dogs, a female German Shepherd and a male Golden Lab. Kiki said there were a couple of cats, too, but they hung out in the barn, chasing mice and other rodents.

  Outside, Sofia glimpsed a swimming pool, tennis court, and a miniature golf course. Behind that, nestled in the trees, was a red barn and a small brown-brick ranch house.

  “Looks more like a resort than a rehab place,” Sofia said. She pointed at the ranch house. “Who lives there?”

  “Gar, he’s on duty, 24/7, wouldn’t have it any other way. As for the resort feel, that’s what I meant. This is a great place for kids. Gar believes the happier the boys are, the better chance they’ll kick drugs.”

  “Smart man, your boss.”

  “Did I hear my name?” Gar joined them at the large, plate-glass window, overlooking the pool.

  “Yep, I’ve been keeping Sofia busy until you were done with the roping.”

  “What were you girls talking about?”

  Kiki flipped her hand. “Ahh, you know, girl talk.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, I get it. Don’t ask.”

  Sofia stretched out her hand and took Kiki’s. “Thank you, it was kind of you to show me around.”

  “You’re welcome. I look forward to seeing more of you.” She released her hand and pointed her finger. “You’re on the hook for lunch. Remember? I’d love to hear about South America.” Kiki’s blue eyes glowed.

  Sofia laughed. “Well, South America is a big place, and I’ve never traveled much outside Argentina, except to some of the eastern port cities. But what I do know, I’ll be glad to share.”

  Gar held up one hand, as if to cut off their chatter. “Kiki, I’ll take over from here.” He glanced at the file folder. “Papers all signed?”

  “Yes, sir,” both of the women said together, exchanged looks and then giggled.

  Kiki gave her fingers a wiggle and disappeared into her office.

  Gar took her elbow. “Thanks for signing the papers. Let’s talk in my office. Okay?” He held the door open for her.

  She followed him and took a seat. “No problem about the papers. I’m impressed with your layout.”

  “Thank you, we want the best for the boys. I guess that means you approve of the place Mr. Van Wyck picked.”

  She lifted her head and looked at him. Before, she’d noticed he was tall and broad shouldered, dressed as a cowboy, but she’d not paid any attention to his eyes. He had the most piercing light blue eyes, like a hot day when the sun has burnt off most of the sky’s color. But his irises were indigo, a blue-black. Unusual.

  She gulped. “Yes, I like your place. I think it might be good for Aaron.”

  “I’m happy to hear it.” His gaze lingered on her, sending her a silent message. She wasn’t certain what the message was. But in some deep-down, primitive part of her, she liked the way he looked at her.

  “So, have you settled in?” he asked.

  “Yes, I hooked up with the former model, Liana De Léon. We have the same business manager. She’s been kind enough to welcome me into her home.”

  “De Léon, Liana De Léon,” he repeated the name. “I think I’ve heard of her.”

  “She’s from San Antonio originally.”

  “And she has something to do with the Alamo. Am I right? I think I read an article about her in Texas Monthly.”

  “Yes, that’s correct. She restored her great-grandmother’s legacy, helping to save the Alamo from being turned into a hotel in the early part of the twentieth century.”

  He thumped the desk. “That’s it!” He nodded. “Great. I’m sure she’s given you the grand tour.”

  “Yes, she has. How did you know?”

  “Typical Texan, we’re all pretty proud of where we live.”

  She stifled a grin. “Oh, I see.”

  “Well, I’m happy you’ve settled in and have a friend. And Kiki seems to have taken a shine to you, too.”

  She nodded. “Kiki is… how do you say it, a breath of fresh air?” She shook her head. “Who doesn’t like Kiki?”

  “Yep, she’s invaluable. A great people person. Her filing and accounting skills are limited, but I didn’t hire her for that. I wanted her personality. No one is quite like her.”

  “Then you’re lucky.”

  He frowned and looked away. “Yes, in some ways, I’ve been very lucky.”

  At his unhappy look, she recalled Kiki mentioning his daughter. She wished she knew more about him. But she knew he wanted to know more about her, too.

  “You said you’d try to come up with ways I could connect with my son.”

  He frowned again and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been giving it some thought, and it isn’t going to be easy. He’s going to know what we’re doing.” He lifted his head and gazed at her with laser-like sharpness. “Have you ever been on a hayride, Sofia?”

  “Uh, no. I don’t even know what that is. Though, Liana mentioned something about dude ranches and hayrides.”

  “Well, usually,” he drawled with the same accent Kiki had. “It’s a co-ed function.” He coughed and cleared his throat. “That is, it’s a romantic venue for couples to… ah, frolic in the hay while riding around at night in a big wagon, pulled by a team of draft horses. With only boys, it’s a little different.”

  He looked her over, as if considering. “For variety, we take hayrides at night, but it’s an all-guy thing. Aaron and his age group are slated to go out tomorrow. We visit the pastures and the boys fork hay from the wagon for the cattle. It’s another way to teach them to care for animals.” His eyes flicked to the
closed door. “I’ll bet Kiki mentioned them having their own horses. It’s one of her favorite things.”

  “Yes, she did mention it and I’m glad you’re teaching Aaron to care for animals. I was surprised to see my son, that first day, currying his mare. Reminded me of my childhood.”

  “Good.” He nodded. “I’m glad you approve. You’re welcome to come along on the hayride.”

  “And do what, Gar?”

  “Well, that’s the part I’ve been thinking about.” He caught her gaze. “You wouldn’t be willing to share any details about you and your son’s particular situation, leading up to his using. Would you?”

  She ducked her head and knotted her hands in her lap. “Uh, not right now, maybe tomorrow.” She lifted one shoulder. “I’m working on it.”

  “Okay, no problem. But with so little to go on, the only thing I can come up with, is for you to hang around. That’s why I’m asking you along on the hayride. You can sit up front with me. I’ll be driving the team.”

  “I can do that—if you think it will help?”

  “Not certain. Just trying to get you ‘face-time’ with Aaron.” Then his light blue eyes brightened, and he snapped his fingers. “Sofia, did you have a hobby or pastime you and Aaron used to share when he was younger?”

  “Uh, yes, we did.” She was impressed. Obviously, Gar knew his business. She’d never thought of trying to find common ground with their old lives. But it made sense, a whole lot of sense.

  “Actually, if it hadn’t been for Aaron,” she admitted, “I would have gone to college and got a graphic design degree. When my son was younger, I used to draw all kinds of super-heroes for him. His English was better than mine, back then, so he’d write some of the dialogue.” She couldn’t help but grin. “We used to put together homemade comic books.” Her smile widened, and a feeling of hope flooded her. “He loved them.”

  He snapped his fingers again. “Bingo. Seven p.m. tomorrow night and bring your sketch pad. Don’t be late.”

  Chapter Three

  Sofia sat on the high wooden seat beside Gar. She’d sat to the far right with her sketch pad between them. The team of heavy draft horses, their fetlocks fringed with long hair, pulled the huge hay wagon with a slow, ponderous gait.

  She’d worn a windbreaker, just in case, but the weather reminded her of home at this time of the year. Overhead, the clear, dark sky stretched like a long swath of black velvet, studded with rhinestone stars, surrounding a brilliant topaz-colored full moon.

  She sniffed the air. Hay, horses, and grass filled her senses, turning back the clock. Even though her son had scowled and turned away when she’d shown up, she wouldn’t have missed this for the world. She could hear the boys in the back, jumping and sliding in the hay, squawking, chattering, and laughing.

  How would it have been for couples to nestle back there, as Gar had mentioned? Rustic and romantic. Though, not too rustic; they’d brought electric lanterns to light their way. And behind her and Gar’s backs, were a row of pitchforks, sticking up like a picket fence, one for each boy.

  She’d learned, watching from the roadside and coming along tonight, why this place was expensive. Gar only took between twenty and thirty boys at a time. Tonight, they had a group of six boys, her son and five others.

  “Where are the other boys?” she asked.

  “I try to do everything by age group. It’s not a perfect system, but for the most part, it forestalls trouble. Tomorrow night, I’ll be taking eight of the older boys out.”

  “Oh,” she said, “that’s probably wise.”

  Gar’s attention to detail and his foresight were just-this-short of amazing. She couldn’t fault him for his dedication. The more she knew about his ranch, the happier she was Eric had placed Aaron here.

  With the open land, resort-like appointments, and qualified staff, she knew his costs must be high. They’d stopped already, and the boys had forked hay to about twenty heifers. He’d mentioned there were four more pastures to go. It might be a working ranch, but she doubted the size of his herd was large enough to cover the cost of running the ranch.

  She should know. The sprawling, confederated ranches of the Pampas were what had driven her father to the point of bankruptcy. He couldn’t compete, and then he’d had a stroke. After his death, when her mother had learned how heavily their ranch was mortgaged, she’d had no option but to sell to the highest bidder. Once the loans were paid off, they’d moved to Buenos Aires, so her mother could find work.

  Clutching the rough wooden bench with both hands, she pushed the past behind her. She was here for Aaron and his future. She’d brought her sketchbook but even with the electric lamps, there wasn’t enough light to draw. She hoped they were going to stop where she could dash out a drawing or two.

  The crickets or some insect were making loud and raucous noises, sounding like a machine with too many gears, an almost metallic crunching noise.

  “What’s that awful sound, like an electric mixer, gone crazy?” she asked.

  “You’re probably talking about the cicadas. They’re everywhere in Texas, and they can make a racket. If we have a freeze this year, they’ll go underground.”

  “If you have a freeze? Texas must be a lot like the Pampas, where I grew up. Our climate is temperate, occasionally we get frost, but it doesn’t usually last long. It’s one of the things I miss in New York, the easy winters back home.”

  “Well, you’re right about our winters in the Hill Country.” He glanced at her. “But we make up for it with our summers. We usually have triple digits, Fahrenheit, for thirty days or so during the summer.”

  “Oh, that sounds terrible.”

  “Air conditioning in Texas isn’t a luxury. It’s a must.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Must be miserable, working out-of-doors during the summer months.”

  “You learn to get up early, eat a light lunch, and work indoors during the hottest part of the day. Towards sunset, you can go back out, but it’s still hot.”

  “I noticed you have a swimming pool.”

  “Again, a necessity if you’re going to have a score of boys in the summer. Takes the edge off when it’s too hot to do anything else.”

  “You think of everything, don’t you?”

  Pulling on the horses’ reins, he said, “Whoa, girls, whoa.”

  Then he jumped down and opened the pasture gate. He came back and climbed onto the wagon seat. He clicked his tongue and slapped the reins, urging the draft horses forward. They pulled the wagon into the middle of the pasture.

  He stopped the wagon and swiveled around. “Jimmy, run back and get the gate. We don’t want any of our heifers getting moon madness and bolting.” He chuckled. “Boys, the rest of you get your pitchforks. You know what to do.”

  He turned to her. “I try not to leave much to chance, Sofia. If their short time in my custody is going to make a difference, I have to be equipped to keep them entertained, busy, and learning about themselves.” He frowned. “I know we don’t reach all of them but we try.”

  “Are you married?” The question popped out of her mouth before she knew it. She shouldn’t have asked, but it was too late to go back now. “I can’t imagine a wife putting up with your hours.”

  His frown deepened. “You’re not far from wrong. I’m not married but I was. And my wife took exception to my long hours. Back then, though, it wasn’t 24/7. I was a juvenile probation officer but the kids still needed a lot of time and…” He shook his head. “I thought we were going to talk about you, Sofia. About you and Aaron.”

  She folded her hands in her lap. She’d asked for it, given him the perfect opening. She noticed he hadn’t mentioned his daughter. Given his confessed inadequacy with girls, she guessed his daughter lived with his ex-wife. Though, she was hard-pressed to understand, based on how caring he was with other people’s children.

  Jimmy came to the side of the wagon. “Mr. McCulloch, I think we’ve forked enough ha
y for this pasture. Don’t you?”

  Gar looked at the pile of hay. “Yep, Jimmy, you’ve got a good eye. Call the others back.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Jimmy is one of my success stories. At least I hope he is. I pray he will stay sober. He’ll be heading home after the New Year and I’ll miss him. If he writes or calls, I’ll respond. His father deserted their family when he was five. He needs a man’s attention.” Gar stroked his chin. “There are hundreds of boys like Jimmy out there.”

  She nodded, realizing what he said was true. And despite Eric’s battle to get control of Aaron, he didn’t really want his son. Aaron was more like a possession than a human being to his father. A trophy to parade around when he felt like it. But when his son put a damper on Eric’s lifestyle, he’d shipped him off to boarding school, over her objections and despite her attorney’s best efforts.

  What a wicked and twisted tale she had to relate. Where to start?

  “I’ve been thinking of how to begin,” she admitted.

  “Why don’t you start from how you met Mr. Van Wyck?”

  “No, I don’t want to talk about that… that part of my life. It has no bearing on Aaron’s upbringing.”

  “Okay, fair enough. How about telling me when you started having trouble with Aaron?”

  “Yes, I think that’s what we should focus on.” She lowered her head and fiddled with the zipper on her windbreaker.

  They’d come to the next pasture. She watched the boys forking hay while she gathered her thoughts.

  Gar didn’t press. The boys finished, and they rolled on to the next field.

  She sighed. “Aaron was around ten years old at the time. Eric, er, Mr. Van Wyck, was going through his divorce. It was pretty acrimonious. Not that I can blame his wife, he’d been cheating on her for…” She stopped and clasped her hands together.

  “Were you and Mr. Van Wyck still in a relationship?”

  “No, we weren’t, not for several years. We’d…” She tossed her head. “I ended it when Aaron was six years old. After Eric’s second daughter was born.”

  “But you’d stayed friends? And Eric had free access to his son?”