Maybe he’d hire a couple of maids.
He could afford it.
Rudolpho limped into the barn, obviously in pain, and Cameron smiled, feeling pleased with himself.
Life was good.
FIVE
“So,” Dave asked as they ate dinner, “what are your plans for the holidays?”
“I don’t know,” Ross admitted. “I haven’t thought about it. Why? Do you need me to go?”
“No!” Lita put a hand on his shoulder. “Of course not!”
Dave laughed. “Exactly the opposite. If you’re going to be here to hold the fort, we thought we might get away for a few days, visit the family.”
“Sure,” Ross told them. “I’ll feed the chickens, horse, goat, whatever you need me to do.”
Lita kissed his cheek. “Thank you! That would be wonderful! That is the best Christmas present you can give us!”
“You know,” Dave said, “every New Year’s Eve, there’s a sort of community get-together, and we have, like, a big potluck at one of the ranches. It’s your basic New Year’s party. Drinking, music …drinking. It’s a lot of fun. We’d love to have you with us.”
“Maybe,” Ross said. “We’ll see.”
For Christmas, Lita and Dave drove to Las Vegas to spend the holiday with his mom and dad, who had retired there. Ross could have gone back to Chandler to be with his own parents, but Rick and Alma had that covered. This year, he actually had an excuse not to see his family, and he took advantage of it, telling them that he needed to remain in Magdalena to take care of the ranch, although he did call them early in the morning to wish them Merry Christmas. Long about noon, however, after finishing his chores, he started feeling a little lonely, despite the various football games and marathons on TV, and as he reheated the roasted chicken and rosemary potatoes Lita had left for him, he found himself wondering what the daughter from the beauty salon was doing. He should’ve gotten her name, he thought, then chastised himself for being such a loser that he was spending his Christmas day fantasizing about the girl who’d given him his crappy haircut. He considered calling or texting some of his friends in Phoenix, but they were probably all with their families, and he didn’t want to disturb them.
Maybe he should have gone to his parents’ house.
No. That was the one thing he’d gotten right, and he spent the rest of the afternoon listening to tunes and reading the Steve Jobs biography that Lita and Dave had given to him for a present.
It was unseasonably warm for December, and that night he sat outside, drinking beer and looking up at the stars. The chickens seemed unusually quiet, their background clucking lower in volume than usual and occasional rather than constant. Several times, he thought he saw something in the sky, something black and silent, gliding over the ranch, bigger than a bird, yet smaller and lower than an airplane. The temperature had dropped, but he remained outside, looking up, trying to figure out what the flying thing was, until he saw its strange shadowy form pass directly overhead and realized that he didn’t want to know what it was. Feeling uneasy, he went inside, pulled the shades over the windows and turned on the TV, watching the end of The Sound of Music as he tried not to think of what might be in the sky above.
He dreamed of monsters. He was on a flat arid plain, hardpacked dirt with no rock or vegetation, that stretched endlessly in all directions. There were creatures in the air, creatures on the ground, abominations whose like had never before been seen or imagined, and they were all after him. He had come from nowhere, was going nowhere, and his only purpose was to avoid the monsters and survive.
In the morning, Ross awoke to a bright, cloudless, unseasonably warm day. The concerns of last night seemed foolish and childish as he went out to feed the chickens, but he still could not help glancing up every once in awhile—just to make sure the sky was clear.
SIX
Lita didn’t want to go out on New Year’s Eve. She knew why Dave wanted to do it. Magdalena was a small town, and if they hoped to survive with their little business over the long haul, they had to not only cultivate relationships but be seen as part of the community. This year, though, Ross was here, and since he’d decided not to go, she thought it would be more fun to buy a big old tub of ice cream, stay in and order some movies on demand.
Dave was adamant, however, and she put on her most western-looking skirt and blouse, dragged out the cowgirl boots she wore exactly once each year, and brought out the lemon pie she’d made earlier in the afternoon. She’d made an extra smaller one for Ross, and she brought it over to him in the shack. “You sure you don’t want to come?” she asked. “Last chance.”