Potee walked through the open door and Pardo followed him.

"Let's go see what's cooking, Potee."

"You just going to leave him out there? In my neighborhood, he wouldn't be there for long once you walk away."

"Horse thieves don't usually bother coming up here. He'll be OK," Pardo said, as they passed a dozen tables scattered around in a room big enough to hold a dozen more tables the same size. There were pictures of horses around the walls. There were a few horses heads, a few horses in a corral, and pictures of horses in a pasture.

Potee stayed a step behind Pardo as he pushed through a door in the front of the room.

Potee found himself in the biggest kitchen he'd ever seen. It was white as snow inside. There were big double door refrigerators and a heavy door that went to the walk in freezer. At the back of the room a man hunched over a sink. He was washing carrots and putting them to one side on the draining board that slopped toward the sink.

"Hey, Cookie. This is Potee. He's powerful hungry, and come to think of it, so am I. I thought you might rustle something up for us."

A gray haired man in a dirty white tee-shirt, with his long thin hairless white arms was busy scrubbing carrots with a short brush.

"Pardo, you know what time lunch is served around here," Cookie said without turning around.

Another bunch of carrots hit the counter next to the man.

"He just sounds like a cantankerous old fart, Potee. He's really just a nice old grumpy cook, ain't you, Cookie?"

"Who you brung with you. Pardo?" Cookie asked, once he turned around and whipped his hands on his dirty tee shirt. "I'm Cookie. You look like a fine looking boy. What are you doing with this horse thief?"

Potee laughed. He liked the old man that wasn't that old. The gray hair made him look older than he was. Potee shook the hand when it was offered to him.

"Potee, Cookie. Cookie, Potee," Pardo said.

Everyone smiled.

"Since you brung company, Pardo, I guess I'll feed you this time. You'd get better fed if when you want lunch, if you'd come at lunchtime."

"I been riding fence down by the road. I needed to finish. I don't want to need to ride back down there. I finished before coming back."

"Go sit down, Potee. Take this hombre with you. I'll see what I can rustle up," Cookie said, going to one of the ice boxes. "You know how to wash pots and pans, Potee. I'd feed a boy who washed my pots and pans real good. I hate my dishpan hands," Cookie said looking at his wrinkled hands.

"You feed me and I'll wash anything you put in front of me. I done dishes before. I ain't scared to work for my supper."

"Your supper is lunch, but if you wash my pots and pans, you'll get all the supper you can eat. I been looking for a boy to wash dishes, since the last boy washed my dishes left me high and dry."

"You said you was looking for a job. Looks like this is your lucky day. You got your first horseback ride, and you're going to eat. Come on. Let's leave Cookie to do what he does."

Pardo looked for Potee, but he was at the sink washing the rest of the carrots.

Cookie took his head out of the ice box and he looked toward the sink. Potee was at the sink where he'd left a few bunches of carrots.

"Pardo, I like this kid.

"I'm Potee. I'm not a kid," he said with his back turned.

"Potee it is," Cookie said. "I been asking Del to bring me someone to help in the kitchen for a coon's age, and you waltz in here with a young man who is just what I'm looking for. Any room in the bunkhouse, Pardo?"

"I don't know. I ain't slept in the bunkhouse since Rowdy was made foreman and he gave me the other bedroom upstairs."

"There's room if Potee here wants a job. I'll toss one of those cowboys out and make him sleep in the barn if need be," Cookie said.

"I'll sleep in the barn," Potee said, finishing with the carrots. "What else you got I can wash."

"I like this kid."

"Potee," Potee said. "I ain't afraid of work."

"Plenty of time for that. You go sit out front. I'll get you boys something you can get your teeth into. I'll find plenty for you to do. Where'd you say you found Potee?"

"It's past lunchtime. I'm riding the last section of fence next to the highway. Potee is walking along just outside the wire. He looked hungry to me, and I invited him to ride up here to eat. I'll take him back if he asks."

"My lucky day," Cookie said. "I like him. Take him on out there and let me bring out the platters I got in the fridge."

"You got platters and you act like I'm breaking your heart?"

"I can count Pardo. I know my cowboys. I knew you'd come riding in here when you got good and ready. I just left what they didn't eat on the platters. Give me a minute and I'll have them out."

By the time Cookie finished explaining the plan, Potee had a platter on each hand and was backing out of the door.

"Grab any table you like, kid," Pardo said.

"Potee," came back the reply.

"I like this kid," Cookie said. "Don't you dare take him back to the highway if you want to keep eating at my table."

"I won't, Cookie. You want him, he's yours. I just came up here to get lunch."

Potee was sitting at the first table he got to, and he was picking pickles, olives, and carrot sticks off one of the platters. Pardo sat across from him.

"He's funny," Potee said. "He serious about me working here."

"He's as good as told me, if I took you back to the highway, I could go look for another place to eat."

Potee laughed.

"I worked in a restaurant once," Potee said, padding his resume.

There were a half dozen kinds of lunch meat with pickles, olives, carrot and celery sticks.

Cookie brought out two kinds of mustard, mayonnaise, ketchup, and a bowl of potato chips. He stood for a minute to watch Potee eat.

Potee was hungry and he helped himself, eating two stacked sandwiches. When Cookie came out with a platter of lettuce, slices of tomato and onion, Potee was quick to slap some of each to his next sandwich.

At first too thick to wrap his lips around, he used one hand to hold it and the other hand to squeeze down to the right size. Both Pardo and Cookie watched this operation without Potee knowing there was anyone there but that sandwich, and with every bite, he shoved in a few Ruffles.

"I like a kid that knows what he likes," Cookie said.

"Potee," Potee said while chewing the latest bite.

"Him too," Cookie said, walking away laughing.

Pardo ate his sandwich, nibbled at sweet and dill pickles. He didn't like olives, but the black ones were pretty nice. He chewed a potato chip after chewing a bite of sandwich. He didn't stack his. A few pieces of this meat and that meat, and he was ready to eat.

Cookie banged, clattered, and sang his way around the kitchen.

"He said there are cowboys up here?" Potee asked.

"What do you think I am, chopped liver. I don't wear this hat to attract attention, Potee. This here is a cattle ranch. The cowboys herd cattle, and from time to time we ride fence to be sure there are no breaks cattle can get through. That's why I was next to the road."

"You mean, if I help Cookie, I'll see the cowboys?"

"In the flesh. Just don't make the mistake of getting in between a cowboy and his chow. You might get trampled. Riding the range, breathing that clean fresh air, can make a cowboy hungry."

"Cool," Potee said, far away from where Pardo was.

"Can I see their horses?" Potee asked.

"As close as you want to get. You can help feed them and clean up after them down at the stables," Pardo added.

"I can?"

"If you don't mind working, there are plenty of places you can be near horses and cowboys and help them out, once they ride in."

"Cool," Potee said, "I can help the cowboys."

Potee reached for a Ruffle not noticing the chip in each hand.

Pardo laughed.

He forgot how giddy boys got over cowboys. Working on a ranch was hard work. Maybe Potee could find a place where he fit in. Maybe he wouldn't, and he'd go down to the road on the way out. Pardo hope the kid stuck. He liked him. You had to have balls to get out and ride your thumb at sixteen. He obviously had nowhere to go, and if he pulled his weight, Del, owner of the Lazy R, wouldn't object.

Cookie brought out two big bowls of ice cream. Potee dived right in and didn't want to stop when he got to the bottom of the bowl. Pardo pushed what was left in his bowl over in front of the kid. He needed no invitation to polish off the ice cream Pardo left for him.

Potee pushed back from the table. There was a satisfied look on his face. He remembered a few times when he'd gone hungry. This kid was just like he was at that age. He was glad he got enough to eat.

"Thanks, Pardo. I owe you."

"You don't owe me anything. I was a kid once. Don't thank me. Cookies the cook and he's cool. He makes cowboys laugh with his grumpy old man demeanor. He was a cowboy once, and he stayed on to cook once his cowboying days were done."

"He was a cowboy?"

"He was. Stick close to him and you'll never go hungry."

"I'd rather stick with you, Pardo. I've known you longer."

"Yeah, by ten minutes. He was a cowboy, and he'll answer any cowboying questions you have about cowboying."

After sitting still to let the food settle, a loud clattering sound came from the kitchen. Potee jumped up, gathered together all the plates and silverware, pushing back through the door into the kitchen.

It was a marriage made in heaven. Potee didn't mind work. He didn't mind Cookie at all. The man was kind to him and after Potee finished a job, Cookie shoved some pie, cake, or ice cream in front of him. He always thanked Potee for the jobs he did.

Potee wasn't accustomed to being treated nicely. He wasn't sorry he'd left the house where he lived. He was sorry he hadn't done it a long time ago. He'd found men who didn't mind feeding him more than once. And he didn't mind giving them what they were after. Not only were they feeding him, but they were taking care of what had become a constant need for relief.

Even when he was young, men watched how he moved. Some checked how he filled his jeans. Others wanted to talk, and that's when he got pizza, a little beer, and welcome relief.

Potee watched Pardo's eyes to see if there was a hint of interest in them. He saw none. He was a kid to Pardo and any help they might be to each other was likely to come in the room. Where other cowboys didn't worry him.

Potee never thought he might be a cowboy one day.

He had a place to stay he liked, work, and food to boot. He wouldn't expect cowboys to see him as anything but a kid. He'd make the most of what was on the Lazy R.

When he was due to take his lunch break, he waited for Pardo to come in and eat. Pardo might be anywhere on the ranch, but he usually came in for hot chow. What he did didn't require him to stay on the range like most of the cowboys did some days. All that fresh air built a powerful appetite in most cowboys.

Potee waited until Pardo came in. He filled two plates with whatever Cookie had fixed, and he carried one out for Pardo and one for himself. He liked eating with Pardo. He liked looking at Pardo.

The man was a man's man if Potee had ever seen one. The cowboys all admired him. So did Potee, except Potee had ideas about Pardo no other cowboy would admit to.

He could dream.

"Hey, Pardo. Keeping you busy?" Potee might ask.

"You don't know the half of it, Potee. How you making out?"

"Fine. Some of the cowboys even call me Potee," Potee said.

"What do the other's call you?" Pardo asked.

"Same as you. They call me kid."

Pardo laughed.

"You're gaining weight. Ranch life must appeal to you."

"It does. One of the cowboys said he'd pick me out a nice horse."

"Potee, cowboys are natural jokers. Don't believe everything they tell you. All they got to do is sit in the saddle and think up ways to put something over on each other. Just be careful, you hear."

"I will, Pardo. Everyone is really nice," the kid said.

"That's what worries me?" Pardo said, before letting it drop.