Surviving Love - K.F. Breene Page 0,6
About then we stepped back and took it all in. Because of our location—so close to the wilderness with the abundance of wildlife—we decided to outfit for hunting. In the sixties, we took the next step, and built the dude ranch.
“We now entertain hunters, fisherman, survival enthusiasts, vacationers, and all others who want to visit an active ranch. We provide excellent service with safe and hands-on demonstrations. That’s why you are all here. We work together, all of us, to make sure our guests leave happy. A happy guest is a great marketer, not to mention an investment. We have quite a few families that visit every year. We try hard to keep them. Any questions?”
The gathered crowd shuffled and looked around at each other, but no one spoke.
“Great. I advise everyone to read their welcome pamphlet for the various rules. If you have any questions, please see one of the senior staff—”
“Who are you calling old?” a graying woman with an equally white cowboy hat hollered with her hands on her hips. She stood next to Dan’s bale of hay, facing the crowd with a beaming smile.
Dan chuckled and bent down to put his hand on the woman’s shoulder. “This is May, my wife and co-owner. She gets prickly when you call her senior.”
The crowd laughed softly, playing along.
“As I was saying, talk to one of the high-leveled staff”—Dan paused for May to nod, hands still on hips—“and we’ll take care of you. Now, for the volunteers.”
It turned out there was actually a lot to volunteer for. In order to keep costs down, they offered horse riding or other lessons in exchange for the needed help. The problem was, every time something came up that didn’t interrupt Sara’s already assigned duties, it seemed like the whole place had their hands up. Ten minutes in and she hadn’t gotten picked for a single task.
“Okay, get ready to put up your hand!” Christie said halfway into the distribution of duties, excitement bubbling into her words. “They’re doing Mike’s stuff!”
“I’ve been putting my hand up the whole time. At this rate, I’ll have all sorts of downtime.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Christie grabbed Sara’s wrist while staring intently at Dan.
“Downtime—or worse, alone time—means I won’t be able to stop myself from brooding. No good can come of that.”
“Then we won’t let you have downtime. Okay, here we go…”
“Who’s Mike?” Sara asked in a whisper as the chatter died down in anticipation of Dan asking for volunteers on the next chore.
“Next up, we need someone to help Mike clean the horse stalls…” Before Dan could say how often the chore needed to happen, every female hand was waving in the air. The majority of men were raising their hands, too. Whoever this Mike was, he was in hot demand.
“Who’s Mike?” Sara asked again, staring in awe at the hopeful, and sometimes pleading, expressions of the women in the barn.
“Christie mucking stalls? This I gotta see!” Dan chortled.
“I don’t like poop,” Christie explained as Dan jotted her name down.
Sara crinkled her nose. Not many people did.
“Who wants to chop wood?” Dan read off his clipboard.
“Is this still Mi—” Sara’s voice cut off as another wave of hands rose in the air. Christie yanked up Sara’s hand by the wrist.
“But what days does it have to be done?” Sara asked, trying to check her schedule as Christie waved their hands above their heads.
“Who cares,” Christie whispered. “If one of us gets picked, we’ll make it work!”
“We’ll give wood chopping to Simon and Nash. The young always have so much energy.” Dan jotted down more names. “Okay, that’s it for Mike this season. He has a higher enrollment in his survival classes this year, on account of being nationally acclaimed. Let’s give him a round of applause!”
“Oh, the survival guy. Sam was talking about him.” Sara joined the clapping and cheering. A man standing to the side and slightly removed from the other triangle boys shifted uncomfortably.
“He’ll be spending more time on that this year. We had to bring in trailers to house everyone who wants to room and board. Great work! Okay, on to Jake. He’ll need help with fence repair one day a week in the afternoon. The schedule is flexible. I need three volunteers.”
Sara’s hand shot up; she was desperate to be first. She needn’t have bothered—her hand was the only one in the air.
“Oh, our newest staff member. Let’s give Sara a hand for the being the only person not afraid of a