"Bring your gear up, take some time to get yourself settled. Starting tomorrow is soon enough. Dinner's in the main house at seven and I can give you keys to this place."

* * * *

Robbie knocked on the door and waited. He wasn't entirely sure what the protocol was here. Back on the station he had been one of twenty-six hands and there was a separate bunkhouse complex with a cook. Jack hadn't mentioned any other staff; it would seem apart from Jack and him there was only Riley and their daughter. There was a small area in his room with a burner and a sink, a small fridge, and a toaster oven. He would be more than happy to keep himself fed. Being at the owners' table was always difficult. He would have to be polite and mind his manners and after a hard day out on horseback that was sometimes hard to do. They in turn would have to be polite back, and act like they were happy to have a hired hand at their table. It was a lose-lose situation. Just tonight then probably. A 'welcome to the ranch' dinner. A shower, clean jeans, and a shave had been the right thing to do.

The door flew open like someone had yanked at it from the other side and suddenly Robbie was face-to-face with a laughing Riley.

"Come in," he said. Leaving the door, he disappeared and after a few moments' consideration of whether he could keep his boots on with a tiled floor he followed where Riley had gone. Straight into the kitchen and slap-bang in the middle of chaos. Hayley was on a chair helping Jack with something at the sink and Riley had joined them.

"We need more carrots," Riley said.

"And broccoli," Hayley added.

"More meat," Jack insisted.

"We don't need more meat. It's not good for you,

Pappa," Hayley remonstrated. Robbie bit back a laugh. How often had his mamma told him he needed to eat less meat and more greens.

"Help me, Robbie," Jack pleaded. "My fellow cowboy, tell me you eat meat with every meal."

"Sure do, sir… Jack."

"Jack has this saying," Riley started. "That if he had to take a pill…" Riley paused and then between laughs he and Hayley singsonged the remainder of the sentence, "'I'd wrap it in bacon first'."

Jack shrugged and then Robbie saw him exchanging a broad grin with Riley.

"Well it's two-all now. So you can keep your greens on your plate and give all the meat to me and Robbie. Agreed, Robbie?"

Jack was talking to him. Asking him something that implied Robbie would be spending more dinners in this worn and cozy kitchen. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that.

"Agreed," he said.

Hayley clambered down and under the watchful eye of both Riley and Jack she came to a stop in front of Robbie who wasn't rightly sure he knew where to stand.

"Come sit down with me," she ordered. She settled into what he supposed was her seat at the large scarred and worn table. When they were both sitting she held out a hand. "Hayley Samuels," she said.

He shook her small hand.

"Robbie Curtis. We met at the wedding, didn't we?" Robbie asked.

"We did," Hayley answered. "It's Daddy's turn to cook tonight but Pappa always says there isn't enough meat in the stuff he makes."

"He does?" What else did you say to a slip of a girl with shiny eyes and the confidence of a kid much older than she looked.

When the men appeared finished with whatever they were cooking, some kind of meat in one pot with potatoes thing, they took chairs at the same table and Jack handed Robbie a beer. They passed the time with talk about the ranch and covered Riley's aims for his exploration company as Robbie listened and learned. These two men had something he had never experienced before. A love so deep that you could see it. In every gesture or touch or word Jack and Riley were what Robbie wished for and had never found. They were happy.

"Tell him what you do." Jack sounded so damned proud and Robbie waited expectantly for Riley to explain.

"I have a small team working on the auctions for exploration rights of undersea minerals in the western Gulf of Mexico. It's a fledgling consultancy and it deals mostly with ethical exploration for oil." Riley spoke as if he had rehearsed it and he said it all while clutching Jack's hand. That was interesting to see. Robbie guessed from that action that Riley needed Jack's support. Jack simply listened and nodded. They were good together. When Jack talked about his quarter horses it had been Riley this and Riley that. Interesting.

"Can you cook?" Jack asked Robbie as the three men and Hayley cleared the huge crockpot of beef stew.

"I like to cook," Robbie answered. In fact he loved to cook but he didn't often get the chance. Either that or he was so engrossed in his job that he'd forget to eat let alone cook. He was ready to cook in his small kitchenette area but it wasn't the same as what he could create if he had a chance in this kitchen.

"Tell me I can add you to the rotation then?" Jack pleaded.

"Rotation?"

"We have a rotation for cooking and since you'll be eating here—"

"Maybe you should ask if he wants to eat with us?" Riley interrupted.

"Do you? Want to eat here with the family?"

Robbie didn't hesitate. He imagined other nights wouldn't be as laid back as tonight, and that there could sometimes be a lot of different tensions at play. There always was in any household. But he felt comfortable here.

"Of course. And I'll take my turn on the rotation."

"Can you cook chicken?" Hayley asked around a mouthful of potato. "'Cause Pappa can't and it tastes bad. Daddy burns it all the time."

"Fried chicken you mean?" Robbie asked. Hayley nodded vigorously. "One of my favorite dishes."

"Consider yourself rotation-ed," Jack said.

"What is Australia like? Is that where you learned to cook?" Hayley asked.

They had finished dinner and Robbie was just considering whether he should be leaving the kitchen and making his way back to his room. The question threw him. To start explaining would mean quite a bit longer sat at the table. Jack pushed a mug of coffee his way and lifted an eyebrow. Clearly he wanted to know as well.

Robbie began.

* * * *

Riley excused himself and made his way to the small office area he and Jack shared. Moving aside the new copy of Quarter Horse Monthly he started his laptop and signed in. There were five e-mails, three of which he forwarded straight to Kathy for dealing with at a much later date—speculative e-mails that offered deals of a lifetime. Kathy was the expert at weeding those out.