Page 25 of Grit
…great cook.
…way with horses.
…twenty years’ experience, at least.
I’m tempted to lay off a couple of my younger guys to hire them back, but that’s not really fair. If you’re looking for good people you can trust with your herd, I can’t recommend them enough.
Melissa was crushed. Why couldn’t Leigh and Stu have shown up six months from now? She looked up from the letter. “Oh you guys, I wish I could, but until the mandarin harvest—”
“Melissa, can I talk to you?” Joan stood, her mouth in a flat line, walked over to Melissa, and pulled her out the kitchen door and into the hallway.
“Mom,” she whispered, “we can’t.”
“We can afford it,” Joan said. “And you need the help. I read that letter from Carla Brady. The two of them could run that entire herd. It is not that big. They’re looking for work. You need help. God sent them to us.”
“I can’t make money magically appear!”
“I’ll pay them,” she said. “I can help. I’ve got Social Security and Medicare now, and what else do I have to spend money on? Nothing.”
“Even if I pay them minimum wage—which is just insulting for an experienced guy—that’s nearly two thousand a month for one of them to work. There’s no way we can pay for both.”
Joan sighed. “You know, once upon a time if a man wanted to work with his wife and wasn’t asking for much, you just let him.”
“Well, when you were growing up, Grandpa didn’t have be afraid of the labor board.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. These people are looking for work and a place to get away from the snow now that they’re older. They’re not gonna take you to the labor board.”
Melissa bit her lip. It was tempting. So, so tempting. With two trusted employees, she could take a vacation. She hadn’t done that in eight years. She could take Abby to the beach. Or call the friends who’d probably forgotten she existed. She could have alifeoutside the ranch and the orchard.
She suspected her mom was right. This couple probably didn’t need four grand in monthly income, especially if she could give them rent free parking and use of the pastures and barn. “What if we hired one and let the other one… contract as needed?”
Joan nodded slowly. “That could work.”
“Honestly, I’m still going to be working. If I hired Stu to take on some of the ranch day to day, then Leigh could work with you around the garden and help with the house and just bill us for her time.”
“That’s fair! And if you could pay Stu, then I’ll pay Leigh. It’ll be between her and me.”
“But if she’s an independent contractor, then that means she can take other jobs too. You can’t give her a schedule she’s got to keep to. Nothing like that. She’s in charge of her own schedule.”
“Rumi might have things she needs help with,” Joan said. “That’s likely to work out fine.” Joan nodded. “Let’s see what they say.”
Melissa had a knot in the pit of her stomach. “I still don’t know about this. It’s a lot of money for us and not that much for them.”
“We’re doing fine. You’re just manic about getting that loan paid off, and you shouldn’t be. You’ve got three more years. If we keep things tight, then by next year’s harvest, you’ll be done with them.”
“They’re Abby’s grandparents,” she muttered. “I’ll never be done with them. But the sooner I get out from under that loan, the better.”
Melissa came to a decision and pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen. “Okay, Stu and Leigh, here’s the deal. I can hire one of you full time—minimum wages is all I can afford right now, but that’s twelve bucks an hour here in California—and we can probably take on the other on a contract basis for filling in.”
Stu and Leigh exchanged smiles. “And our motor home?”
“Job comes with free rent. You’re welcome to park here. There’s room in the pasture behind the barn—there’s even hookups my grandpa put in—and you’ll have space to stable your horses. We’ve got four empty stalls right now, so that’s not an issue. You have your own trailer?”
“Sure do,” Leigh said.
The couple looked like they’d won the lottery.
“You won’t be sorry,” Stu said. “This suits us perfect. It’s exactly what we’ve been hoping for, a family place where we can feel at home. Honest work.” He swallowed hard. “You won’t be sorry, Ms. Rhodes.”
