The boy shifted gears and they moved bumping and rocking out of the pasture. Raymond climbed off to shut the gate and the boy parked inside the fence at the haylot and turned the tractor off, and together they walked up to the house under the thin clouds.
I don’t see how you manage to do all this by yourself, the boy said.
You don’t?
No sir. It seems like too much for one person to do.
Raymond looked at him. What else you going to do?
The boy nodded and they went on.
IN THE KITCHEN THE LITTLE GIRL WAS SITTING AT THE table over a coloring book and Victoria was standing at the stove. When she saw Del Gutierrez in Harold’s canvas chore coat and old wool cap, with the earflaps dangling free beside his red cheeks, she said: Now wait. Stand right there till I get my camera.
No you don’t, Raymond said. You leave him alone. Del and me, we been outside working, feeding cattle. We don’t need no pictures.
I got to keep warm, don’t I? the boy said.
You look warm all right, Victoria said. Just look at you. Then she laughed and they stood looking at her, seeing how white and straight her teeth were, how her thick black hair fell across her shoulders, how her black eyes shone, and they both felt at once awkward and speechless in the presence of such beauty, to see her in this way, having themselves come in from the cold and the wind and the blowing dirt, to find her waiting for them, laughing and amused by something they’d done. It made Raymond think suddenly of his brother and he was afraid he might embarrass himself and begin to weep. So he said nothing. He turned away and he and the boy hung up their coats next to the door and washed at the sink.
Victoria had breakfast ready for them. She brought the platters of eggs and bacon and buttered toast and poured out cups of coffee and they all sat down at the pinewood table in the kitchen. The little girl reached her arms out and said: Poppy, so Raymond took her onto his lap and they began to eat.
You think you could make a rancher of him? Victoria said.
Raymond stopped eating. I don’t know, he said. He looked at her. I guess he might make one. He did pretty good this morning.
Did you have him drive the tractor?
Yes, ma’am. He did pretty good at it too. He turned to look at the boy. Course I can’t say much for that earring he’s wearing. I guess that hole in his ear might grow in after a while, but I haven’t had no experience with that kind of thing.
The boy’s face went red and he touched his ear. He grinned across the table at Victoria.
I think he should just keep it the way it is, she said. I like it.
ON FRIDAY OF THAT WEEK VICTORIA AND DEL GUTIERREZ decided to go to the movie in Holt. They didn’t care what was being shown, they wanted only to get out of the house and to do something on their own, and Raymond encouraged them to have dinner at the Wagon Wheel Café before the show, and he gave the boy forty dollars for helping him with the ranch work. Before they went out, he drew Victoria into her bedroom and pulled the door closed. What’s wrong? she said.
Not a thing, he said. Then he told her in an old man’s loud whisper: He’s a pretty good hard worker, isn’t he.
What are you talking about? she said.
That boy’s been doing pretty good this week. Working pretty hard.
Do you think so?
Yes I do.
He told me about the trouble he had driving the tractor that first time.
He didn’t have to tell you that.
He said you weren’t much upset about it. That you didn’t yell at him or anything.
Well, it didn’t break nothing, and everybody has to do that once. He did all right. Anyway, you just might want to think about keeping him around.
Victoria looked at Raymond. He was watching her closely. Now what is it you’re saying? she said.
I just mean you might want to keep this one. He’s okay with me. I kind of like him.