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talk right. Kinda got the impression he looks down on us.”
    “I’ll have a talk with him. But in the meantime, take it easy on him, okay? Which horse did you give him anyway?”
    “Tornado.” I couldn’t help laughing. Tornado certainly wasn’t a “wild devil horse” and was named because he was about as far from rough as possible.
    “Well, he was the one that kicked ol’ Tornado several times yelling ‘giddy up’.”
    Realizing that I was fighting a loosing battle, I changed the subject.
    “What do you and the boys have planned for tonight, since it’s Friday?”
    “José suggested that we take turns doin’ lookout duty up by the forest service roads. Pedro pulled first shift. José and I are gonna go into Wenatchee. Haven’t seen Wayne all day, and don’t know about Mike.”
    “Well, have a good time. But not too good; I don’t want to come and bail your sorry asses outta jail.” Josh just laughed at that and headed out toward the bunkhouse.
    I headed upstairs to where Robert was soaking in the tub, stopping at the medicine cabinet to get some aspirin. I gave it to him and poured him a glass of water.
    “How’s about we go into Winslett and go to One Eyed Jack’s for dinner?”
    “Okay. As long as none of those assholes go with us.”
    “It’ll be just us. It’ll be a nice chance for us to get caught up on the last two weeks and visit.”
    An hour and a half later, we were seated in One Eyed Jack’s Saloon.
    My friend Sandy, who I went to school with, was our waitress. It struck me again just how pretty and nice she was. She always seemed to have one or two straight dudes sniffing after her, usually without any success. She had one of the most engaging smiles I’d ever seen. We’d always been close through school.
    “Hey, Sandy, how ya doin’?”
    “Hey there, Jeff, no complaints, how about you?”
    “Fair to middlin’.”
    “I hear your ranch got hit by rustlers.” Sandy looked at me quizzically.
    “Yeah, Sheriff told me we aren’t the only ones.”
    “No, the Nelsons got hit also, off Wild Horse Road, and the Flannigans off of the other side of Lucky Jeff Bluff. Too bad they still don’t hang cattle thieves, but they gotta catch ’em first. So what will you boys have to drink tonight?”
    “I’ll have an Alaskan Amber Ale. Sandy, this here’s my friend Robert up from California. Robert, this is Sandy; she and I went to school together, and we were always real good friends. Her dad is the sheriff.”
    “Hi Robert, what can I get for you?”
    “I’d like a hot chocolate.”
    “I’m sorry; we don’t have hot chocolate, coffee maybe?”
    “ No hot chocolate ? It’s cold out! How do people up here warm up?”
    “People up here warm up with beer.” Sandy rolled her eyes at me.
    “I’ll have a cup of tea then.”
    “Okay, an Alaskan Amber Ale and a cup of tea.” I was treated to hearing Sandy mutter under her breath something about an uppity pansy, and Robert mutter something about cretins. The evening was shaping up to be a lot of fun.
    “Well, Jeffrey, just what is good here?”
    “They got great burgers, and you can’t go wrong with one of their steaks either.”
    “I’ve stopped eating red meat. And don’t suggest the chicken or fish; I don’t want anything deep fried.” Just then Sandy came back, and delivered our drinks, and took our orders—a bacon cheeseburger and fries for me, and a veggie burger and a small side salad with no dressing for Robert.
    “So Jeffrey, just when are you coming back home?”
    “I told you I’m thinking on it. Don’t push. Are you feelin’ any better after the soak in the tub and aspirin?”
    “I ache all over.” I had never realized just how whiney Robert was. He seemed to realize it also. He did backpedal a bit. “Jeffrey, I appreciate your helping me clean up, checking me over, and everything else. I’m grumpy and bitchy because I hurt.”
    “I understand Robert; after dinner and a good night’s sleep, you’ll