Chapter 14

While en route to the hospital to visit Vince, David's cell phone rang. With Patty on his lap, and both of them strapped in by the same seatbelt, he didn't have enough time to move Patty, get his cell phone out of his pocket, and answer the call before it was transferred to voice mail. The phone's memory, however, gave him the number. He didn't recognize it, but hit the callback button anyway. Ridley said hello.

"Sorry," David said. "Couldn't get to the phone soon enough."

"No problem, young fella. Got a cook for you, a man named Del Gilead. Homeless but don't like bein' called homeless. Says he's a hobo. The distinction escapes me, but who am I to argue with a man about what he wants to call himself."

"If he's a hobo, he likes to move around. The position is permanent, Ridley."

"I know that, young fella. Don't take the hobo label serious. Del's homeless, pure and simple. Some years back, he owned a fancy restaurant. A woman did him wrong, and he got into the hooch. Lost his fancy restaurant. Then lost his home."

"Is he ready to end his homelessness?

"Yep. Started at CASS but had a setback. Hit bottom again. I got him into AA and talked Darrel at CASS into giving him another try. Worked that time. He's been sober for about a year."

"Where is he now?"

"Cookin' at a mission on Van Buren, but still livin' on the street. Takes a good man to live on the street and stay off the hooch and drugs."

"Okay, we'll hook up tomorrow, and I'll talk with him."

"Good. Got a stable hand, too. Maybe. Would a cowhand fit the bill?"

"Maybe," David said. "Homeless?"

"Not yet, but he's out of work. Met him at a nursing home visiting his daddy. If the nursing home don't get paid, they're gonna put the daddy on the street. The nursing home says they'll work with him if he gets a job. Tom Jensen — that's the cowhand's name — says he's worked ranches all over the West."

"All right, I'll talk to him, too. What were you doing at a nursing home?"

"Loaded up some of the old folks in that nifty van you bought me and took 'em to the theater in the round in Chandler. A musical. Oklahoma. They had a blast. I figure old folks having some fun in their life is as important as giving someone a ride to a clinic. Used up the last of the cash money you gave me buying the theater tickets."

"I agree, about old folks having fun, I mean. I'll give you another bundle of cash when I meet you tomorrow."

"You're a good man, young fella."

And I'll spend part of the night checking out Tom Jensen and Del Gilead, David thought as he ended the call.

When David described the new candidates for jobs at the ranch to the occupants of the limo, Joe surprised him.

"I know Tom Jensen," Joe said. "He was working a ranch in Nevada when the owner hired me to fix a cantankerous horse. Tom's a good man."

"How old is he?" David asked.

Joe pondered David's question and said, "Forty-five now, give or take a few years. Why?"

"If he's a good man, I wonder why he can't get a job," David said.

Joe snorted. "The way ranches are run nowadays, jobs for cowhands are getting as scarce as hen's teeth."

"Will he accept the way we are?" David asked.

"Don't know," Joe said.

"If he can't or won't, I'll pay the past-due bill at the nursing home anyway," David said.

Joe nodded. "Do that. Tom's... he's a dying breed, David. If he's down on his luck, I'd like to give him a leg up. He's a proud man, though. He won't accept charity kindly. Keep that in mind."

"If we can hire him, you should go with me to talk with him," David said.

Joe nodded and said, "I will."

When David and the crew entered Vince's room, he had the MP3 player plugged into his ears and was drawing in a sketchbook with a pencil. When he saw everyone, he quickly closed the sketchbook.

Instead of a hospital gown, he wore the pajama set Darla had purchased for him, and he was sitting in a chair, not lying on the bed. He also wore a hat. Had the bandage on his head been removed?

The boy smiled, obviously happy to see them.

"Vince," David said, "we brought a couple of people you haven't met yet." He pulled Joe forward. "This is Joe Paterson, my father-in-law. He's a horse whisperer. Do you now what that is?"

"Like in the movie?" Vince said.

"Sort of," Joe said and stuck out his hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you, Vince. I hear you're getting out of this joint next Tuesday."
Vince nodded. "Ms. Prince, my caseworker, says there'll be a hearing on Tuesday, and a judge will assign me to a foster home."

The boy didn't look happy about the prospect. David, Nora and Darla had decided not to get his hopes up by telling him that they were petitioning the court to have him move in with them. Now they had their ducks in row, Darla planned to tell him that night.

Next, David pushed Patty forward. "This is Patricia Wilson, Vince. She goes by Patty. Patty, this is Vincent Crawford. He likes to be called Vince."

Darla said, "Patty lives in the compound with us. Her mother is our cook. Do you think you and Patty can become friends?" When Vince didn't respond immediately, Darla added. "I sure hope so, because we've asked the judge to let you move in with us."

The boy looked dumbfounded. Tears misted his eyes.

Patty stepped up to him. "It's okay, Vince. It's a great place to live. It has a swimming pool. Do you know how to swim?"

He nodded. "A little." He rubbed his eyes with his fists.

"Me, too, a little. I'm getting swimming lessons. You can take them with me," Patty said.

"Can't get the cast wet," Vince said.

"Oh," she said. She eyed his cast. "Is there a blank space left where I can sign my name?"

"I think so." He looked up at David. "Am I really going to live with you and Darla and Nora?"

"That'll be up to the judge, Vince, but judges usually go with the caseworker's recommendation, and Ms. Prince says she'll recommend us as your foster parents."

"We're not licensed foster parents," Darla said. "But we've applied to become foster parents and to make our compound a foster home. To make sure we had a chance to be your foster parents, we arranged to have a licensed foster parent move in with us and transfer her license to our address."

"Mrs. Gonzales?" he said.

"Yes."

He nodded. "I understand now. She visited me this afternoon. Oh, this is swell!"

Tammy knocked on Janice's bedroom door. She'd driven the pickup truck to the compound, leaving two hours earlier than needed for the dinner party so she could spend some time with Janice. They talked on the phone daily, but nothing's better than having a chat with a friend in person.

When Janice opened the door, Tammy almost didn't recognize her, and the sight of her was brief because Janice threw her arms around her and gave her a hug, happily squealing her name at the same time. Tammy hugged her back. It was nice to be greeted so warmly.

Janice stepped back. "Look at you! You look great, Tammy, all duded up in a fan-dancy Western outfit."

"You look pretty good yourself, Janice. I don't think I would've recognized you on the street. My goodness! What a transformation!"

"Come in, come in. This is my room, at least until they build the new living units, and they say they'll be as nice as these. Oh, Tammy, it's like a dream! Every time I go to sleep I think I might wake up in a packing crate again. But I don't. I wake up in this room. Can you believe it?"

"My digs aren't as nice as these. I'm staying in the bunk house, right where I wanna be," Tammy said. "A bed in a bunkhouse comes with the job, and the job, Janice, that's my dream. Workin' with horses, wonderful Arabian horses. You should see Thee Brigand, our feisty stallion. He's a real piece of work, that one is, but I've got his number, got him eatin' outta my hand." She snickered. "Literally. And Joe, my boss, he talks horse, Janice. I know that sounds crazy, but I swear he does. Never seen nothin' like it."

Janice motioned with her hands. "Sit down, Tammy."

They sat on a loveseat next to each other.

"You're happy, huh?" Janice said.

"Yes! You, too, right?"

"Yeah. Still sober?"

"Yep. How 'bout you? You still takin' your meds?" Tammy said.

"Every day at the same time like clock work. Don't care that they make feel drugged. They keep me from goin' off the deep end. I don't never want to live on the streets again, Tammy. Never!"

"Me, neither. Only thing missing is some lovin', but that'll happen." She looked wistful. "Someday. I hope."

Janice laughed. "I gotta admit I could do with some lovin', too." She gave Tammy a curious look.

"What?" Tammy said.

"Ever made it with a woman, Tammy?"

Tammy blushed. "Yeah, when I was a kid."

"Like it?"

Tammy said nothing.

"Forget I brought it up, Tammy," Janice said. "It's just that... well, I saw Darla and Nora... you know, and..."

"I liked it," Tammy said, interrupting her stammering friend. "I liked it a lot. Too much, so I... what are you sayin', Janice? Are you suggestin'... ?"

"I guess I am, Tammy. You said you needed some lovin', and I need some lovin', and... oh, god, I'm no good when it comes to talkin' about this."

"I think you're doin' just fine, Janice. You ever been with a woman?"

"No, but... well, when I watched Darla and Nora, I... it made me hot, Tammy. They kissed and touched each other and took off their clothes and... you know."

"Yeah, I do know. Are you hot right now, Janice?"

She nodded.

"Do you want me to kiss you and touch you, Janice?"
She nodded.

Tammy placed a hand on each side of Janice's face, gazed into her eyes and kissed her.

Janice moaned into her mouth and pulled Tammy against her. The passionate kiss deepened, and Janice felt Tammy's hand on her breast.

Tammy jerked her mouth off Janice's. "Let's take off our clothes."

"Let's. I'm not beautiful like Darla and Nora," Janice said and started to unbutton her dress.

"Neither am I," Tammy said. "Doesn't matter. You're my friend. When we kissed, Janice, well, it was exciting! I wanted you. I wanted you as much as I ever wanted a man." She turned her back to Janice. "Unzip me, please."

Minutes later, they stood naked in front of each other.

"Tammy," Janice said, "For me, you're beautiful." She reached out and took Tammy's rough hand in hers.

"For me, you're beautiful, too," Tammy said, giving Janice's hand a loving squeeze.