Page 32 - Homestead By Ann Newhouse

Our pleasant evening finished at around midnight, and, after having a couple of drinks, I was ready for bed. I didn’t care if it was in a cold stark room, I was just grateful for John Tirrell’s offer and his agreement to allow me to stay. I still wasn’t one hundred percent sure I’d be able to bow down to John Tirrell’s rules and demands, as it brought back memories of my father, but for the time being I’d except it. I had to admit I was quite attracted to Sofie Tirrell, and would try and win her trust, and, dare I say it, her affection. I was looking forward to the future, as I closed my eyes and hoped for pleasant dreams.
I was enjoying living in my sparse room and sleeping under starched white sheets, something I had never had the luxury of before. For the first week of living in the medical hall, I had to struggle across to the onsite Cabin restaurant for meals, as I only had facilities for making myself coffee. I had not seen Sofie but had heard her and Johanna working in the next room nearly every day. I had hoped to get a call to, perhaps, meet for a coffee or maybe lunch, but Sofie had not spoken to me, or come to see me, since the night we all had dinner. I didn’t know why. I had spent some time out and about with Josh, who had been showing me the ropes and introducing me to some of the people living in the Homestead and also, to the team I’d be with on the cattle drives.
Tom was the team leader and was in his middle fifties, an old farm hand from the Ranch. He was short in stature, balding and had never married. Joe, who was a little younger, was tall and slim, with a dark complexion. He had a daughter named Lucy, who worked in the restaurant. Then there was Mitch. He was a lovable sort and a typical young stallion, tall, slim, handsome and blonde. I liked him.
One evening I was making my way across to the restaurant for supper. I was struggling as I passed the large square where children were playing with a ball, and a dog was running about barking and joining in the game. Mrs. O’ Neilson and another lady were, I would imagine, chatting merrily about the joys of being young, as they admired the energy of the children. As I approached the steps to the restaurant, I witnessed two men arguing. I hurried past, so I wouldn’t get involved. I was in no physical condition and still feeling the effects of my injuries. As I climbed the last couple of steps, with difficulty, I heard a voice call my name. I paused, as a hand touched my shoulder. “Good evening Ned,” a sweet voice greeted me. I looked up and found myself face to face with Johanna.
“Johanna so nice to see you again.” I tried to sound confident.
I blushed, as she was looking lovely. She was wearing an off the shoulder, long bright pink dress and her long chocolate coloured hair flowed down her back. I was taken aback by her beauty. She stood