Free Cowboy Sandwich by Reece Butler Page A

as if the few extra inches would bring him home that much faster. They’d made a quick stop at Sue’s for Candy to pack a suitcase and grab her art supplies, another at the mercantile in town for groceries.
    “We’ll empty the truck then check things out,” said Bryan, eyes straight ahead. He rested his left palm on the wheel, leaving his right hand ready to shift gears. He’d turned on the all-wheel drive after they left the highway.
    “There’s our welcoming committee.”
    Candy caught an impression of a large farmhouse, windows spilling light, before a pack of dogs rushed from the porch, yipping and howling. From the doggie-style grins and wagging tails, they were certainly friendly. But…
    “Is that collie hurt? It’s limping.”

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    “Nah, Sally always walks like that. She’s only got three legs, but it doesn’t slow her down,” said Bryan. “Adam’s never been able to turn down a hurting animal. The cats are also rescued but they own the railings.”
    Sure enough, at least four cats trolled the porch railing. She could see one had a tail with a thirty-degree kink at the end, but the rest would have to wait for another look. Any man who’d take in broken animals had a piece of her heart. She had a few wounds to heal herself, and she needed peace and time alone for that.
    Bryan pulled up to the porch near a door, cut the engine and sighed. Adam had offered to trade places half way but he’d refused, saying Adam would owe him.
    He’d leered and said he’d collect tonight. Candy figured she’d be the one paying, something she looked forward to.
    The door opened and a man hobbled out, grinning and waving.
    The porch light caught his face, highlighting lines of age.
    “Don’t mention anything about Johnny’s leg. The stubborn old fool won’t retire. Says we’ll toss him off the ranch if he can’t work,”
    said Bryan.
    “Tell him Candy only cooks for us. Not the bunkhouse,” said Adam.
    “Johnny’s the camp cook,” explained Bryan. “Takes care of the men and, with a bit of help, the chuckwagon spring and fall. He’s great over a camp oven, but can’t cook much indoors except biscuits.”
    “Cattle fed?” Adam barely opened the door before he questioned the old man.
    “We listen to the weather, same as you. Joe got in thirty minutes ago. They’re okay for two days.”
    “Good.” Adam looked toward the barn, obviously chafing to check it out personally. He turned back to face the man. “What’s for dinner?” He stepped closer and clasped the older man’s gnarled hand.
    “Beef stew and biscuits. Stew’s still warm and I’ll finish mixing the biscuits soon’s you like.”

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    Reece Butler
    “Want you to meet someone,” said Adam. He turned to the truck where Candy waited, the truck door open. She shuffled her bottom to the edge of the passenger seat.
    “She followed us home. Honest,” said Bryan. “We tried to say no, but….”
    He sounded so much like a little boy with a lost kitten that Candy had to laugh. She clutched her coat around her and reached for Adam’s hand to step down. Instead, he grabbed her around the waist with both hands and swung her onto the porch, forcing a surprised squeak out of her.
    “Johnny, this is Candy. This little filly wandered in from Boston, looking for God’s country. She’s visiting for a few weeks to live life the way it should be. We tested her cooking, but you might have to teach her the way we do things on the Double R.”
    She tried to look eager, though it wasn’t hard to fake. Suddenly she wanted her charcoals. She’d capture this dark man’s face and title it ‘Father Time’. Each wrinkle told a story, one she wanted to hear.
    He sniffed and rubbed his nose, looking sideways at her.
    “Boston, huh?”
    She nodded. “I escaped just in time.”
    Johnny’s lip twitched. Not much, and she’d have missed it if she wasn’t memorizing him.
    “You taking over the indoor chores?”
    “Yep.”
    “You make