The third guy hung back in the shadows a bit. She could use all the help she could get, and she had no business being picky whatsoever.
“Looks like your little internet trick worked.” Sam turned in time to see Joe grab his head. “Aghhh.”
“Better go put some ice on that chin,” Toren muttered, continuing his walk toward their company with a lethal purpose in his step.
Sam remembered she lived there and needed to act like it. She hurried her own steps to introduce herself. “You guys are here to answer the ad?”
“I am.” The rodeo queen fluttered her fingers. Shit. She really was the damn rodeo queen from several years of state competition. What pot fucking luck.
“I believe I know you.” Sam stretched her hand for a shake.
The girl shook her hand and rattled off at the mouth. “Yeah, yeah, Skye Blue, that’s me, I’m trying to forget about it if you don’t mind.” Sam looked down at her the non-stop handshake. “I’m here for a job, and I’m praying you still have openings. I can cook, clean, train horses, care for animals, I can do diesel mechanics, I’m also proficient at working the land, I—”
“You were hired at cleaning.”
The woman let out a light gasp of relief and fluttered slender fingers through her long, just stepped out of the salon, brunette hair. If she didn’t like the reputation, then why the hell did the woman dress the part? “I'm actually Skylar Thomas. Sorry for being sarcastic but I've gotten sick of being thought of as a pretty airhead. I'm trying hard to live it down, but it’s been a rough few months.” Deep shadows in her eyes gave truth to her words. She nodded and eyed Toren with an appreciative gaze. “I was worried somebody would’ve filled the position.”
“Well, I’ve got a lot of sick men down. So, I can use all the help I can get.” Sam glanced at the guy just behind her, the army stud. “You here for the ad too, I assume?”
“Yes ma'am.”
He didn’t spout his resume like the woman had. “You good with anything?”
He cast his blue eyes down then bore them right into hers. “I’m good with anything.”
She nodded, not liking his vague attitude. But desperation said it was good confidence. “This is Toren and…” Sam looked around for Joe. “Guess he had to go. That was Joe, the guy just here. I’m Samantha, the owner of the ranch.” Sam looked at the third guy. “Excuse me sir? Are you here for the ad?”
He came forward in a strange scuttle kind of way, almost like he was nervous. “Yes'm. Here for the ad. I can work with horses n’ stuff. And cows n’whatnot.”
Okay, a dumb one but he seemed to pack plenty of horsepower. “Much appreciate you all answering my ad. You’ve come at a desperate time. Nearly every hand on the place is down with the flu and with the storm, there's plenty of extra work to do for a fit crew.”
“Maybe we can have a talk with them,” Toren cut in, looking at her. “Maybe we can talk back at the little shack I’m staying in?”
“Well, I was thinking we—”
“Good, we can all ride together, come up with a plan to save the ranch from…becoming run over with more catastrophe than it already has been.”
Oh yeah. Sam had forgotten about the whole angel coming to town down from heaven seeking out the human couple standing before her in order to save the world. Not her ranch. She struggled to shove twenty years of responsibility that had etched its way into her pores and psyche, telling herself that saving the world was just a tad more important.
“I’m ready when you are.” The determination in Skylar's voice seemed a little familiar, but Sam couldn't place it.
“And who are you?” Sam asked the army guy, realizing he hadn’t said.
“Ezekiel Beshara.”
Sam nodded and glanced at the dirty man off to the right with the greasy looking goldilocks. “Got a name?”
His dark eyes flitted all around and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. You’d think she’d asked him to recite the constitution before a huge audience. “Rufard. Ruffard Lam-Lam-berg.”
Sam looked at Toren. “Guess that’s that.” She looked at the three people. “You can hop in the truck, I just need to touch base here.”
“I’ll come to help.”
“It’s not necessary, I can—”
“I’m coming.” Toren seemed to realize his harshness and softened his voice a touch. “If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” She flicked her gaze over him then tossed a look over her shoulder. “Climb on in my junk bucket, we’ll be back in a moment.”