5. Just a Bloody Tourist

"What are you thinking?"

Mentor's eyebrows puckered in a frown. He stopped staring into space to glance at the guy on the other side of the table. "Sorry?"

Fabian stopped wiping at the table with a rag and flicked his long black hair out of his face. "What you thinking, boss man?"

"Hmmm," Mentor said absent-mindedly, shrugging. "Nothing much."

It was Fabian's turn to hum in disbelief. But the guy didn't want to push it. So he went back to wiping at the table. "As I was saying, she said I had to get my ass home by twelve on weekends. Like, who does that? Is she seriously going to stay up all night waiting for me?"

Mentor's mouth bent in a smug smile. "Dude, given your indiscriminately wild nature, I'd say your mother being autocracy is the best for you."

The guy smiled, dropping the rag on the table. "Not you too, boss. Come on, she's making it hell for me."

Mentor picked his own rag to give the table one last wipe. "I have a feeling she's going to stop doing that the day you start showing some responsibility."

Fabian laughed loud and rolled his coal-black eyes. "Yeah, right. Next thing, I should be getting married too. How old am I?"

His boss chuckled and followed him back up to the house. The other ranch hands had gone home about half an hour ago, with those staying on the ranch going back to the ranch bunkhouse. On their long dinner evenings, Fabian usually stayed last.

Fabian was his closest ranch hand, although the guy was half a decade his junior at twenty years of age. And although their age difference wasn't that much, it was no secret that the younger guy looked up to him like a father he never had. Who was he kidding? The boy pretty much worshipped him. And he too saw the guy as a close younger brother, although a very mischievous and delinquent one at that.

When they reached the lobby, Fabian started to fetch his overcoat from the coat closet and Mentor sat at a small tub chair to start untying his bull-hide boots.

"Oh, by the way, " Fabian spoke up, glancing at him while rummaging in the hall closet. "Who was that hot chick that came down here earlier?"

A frown had started to form on Mentor's face again before he remembered the lady. "Oh. The new neighbour at Mrs Casss's house. She's a damn tourist." He glanced at Fabian and the frown turned into a scowl. He could practically see what the promiscuous bastard has in mind. "No way. Come off it, dude. You had better not."

Fabian was not only mischievous, but he was also wanton as well. Part of the reason his mother wanted him to settle down. The guy had a huge thing for sleeping around. And it was especially worse during the tourist season. Come all tourist seasons, the female tourists were in for it from the Fabian. Mentor just constantly hoped he wouldn't let his affairs get in his way of work.

That was the only thing he would not tolerate.

Chuckling, the guy raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I was just asking, " he said. "Yeah, she's smoking hot but I kinda noticed that soft-y look in your eyes at her presence."

"What?" His head snapped back to the younger guy. "What the heck?"

"Yeah, boss man. I was thinking -"

He started to laugh. "No way, man. Delete those godamned 'thinking' from your mind." He finger-quoted, scowling now.

Fabian raised his hands in surrender again. "Okay, okay. I'mma head on out before you bite my pretty head off."

Mentor rolled his eyes. "Good that."

Fabian threw him that patronizing look he hated and Mentor swore low under his breath.

The young guy had caught on to his pissy mood and he quickly started to excuse himself. "See you tomorrow, boss man. Condolences about the animals today."

Mentor nodded grimly, his anger dissipating as the thought of the day's incident at the ranch crashed over him, wiping him clean of his anger.

"Say hello to little Ilene."

With that, Fabian walked out of the house, down the road to where his moped stood. It was almost dark already and the nocturnal chill had set in. At least, it wasn't blustering windstorms today. Mentor watched as the vehicle stirred up a shadow of dust and disappeared down the gravel road.

He turned back toward the house and thought about what Fabian said again. A scoff slipped from his lips. Wasn't the guy just plain ridiculous? He so didn't fancy that woman. She was just a bloody tourist, that was it. Although he would admit that he had been rather hard on her, she being a stranger and all, but he was ready to chuck all that up to the day's stress at the ranch, with them losing two of their cattle.

Well, hopefully, he wouldn't be seeing her again, so he wouldn't have to apologise.

"I'm going to head on out now, sir."

He glanced up at the frail voice, casting away his present thoughts.

"Mrs Rosenthal," he said, putting on his warmest smile.

The elderly widow had been working for him for almost four years now and never for once had the woman, who was just a bit more than twice his age, listened to his pleas to stop calling him sir. She was the housekeeper and also minded his daughter.

Every weekday, she came in late in the mornings and left early in the evenings. Today had been an exception, it being the ranchers' monthly dinner evening and all. The woman cooked for him, cleaned the house and also looked after his kid during her time here. She also left them enough stuff to last the weekends. She had pretty much been in his daughter's life, all the kid's life?

Although he paid her a handsome salary for it (a fact the woman was perpetually grateful for), Mentor still always felt like it wasn't enough. The woman came all the way from the hustle and bustle of the town to mind his house every day, after all. And she did have children of her own too, although they were all grown and mostly married now.

"Dear God, you look so tired, sir." The woman's wrinkly brown eyes stared at him in horror.

He smiled as much as he could to allay her fears. "It's okay, Mrs Rosenthal. Just a long day at the ranch." He winked at her. "Nothing a long hot bath won't wash away."

The woman didn't look one bit convinced as she picked up her woollen scarf from the coat hanger and proceeded to wrap it around her.

She glanced at him with a chastising frown. "You should go kiss your daughter good night and go to sleep instead."

He folded his hands behind his back and smiled. "I'll do that, Mrs Rosenthal."

"Huh," was all the woman said. She walked towards the big vase by the mantelpiece.

She picked out the flowers in the vase every evening and came back the next day with fresh ones to put in. There were plenty of flowers lying around the property, but the woman preferred to bring from the ones in the special garden in her front yard.

Mentor had no problem with it and let her have it her way since she pretty much ran his house.

"Thanks for today, Mrs Rosenthal," he said as usual. He started to head up the stairs to his daughter's room. The elderly woman could let herself out. She commuted daily in her small, old hunchback Nissan.

On getting to Queen's room, the girl was tucked in bed already, clutching MeeMee, her big, fluffy red panda and she was still awake, waiting up for him. His heart went out to the elderly woman again. Mentor didn't know what he would do without her. He didn't think he could do anything in this house without her.

The stupid white excuse for a goat bleated at him as he stepped into the room. Chagrin settled on him like a blanket and he threw the thing a quick scowl from where it was sitting in its bed by the door. Every second in the presence of that annoying thing had him regretting getting it for Queen's birthday.

"Go to sleep, Mr Goat," Queen said in a whispery voice. She looked up at him with eyes wide.

Guilt poked at his flesh. He could tell the little girl was remorseful about earlier and it was his fault.

"Daddy, are you still mad at me? I'm sorry." Her mouth tightened as her eyes soaked with tears.

He quickly took a seat beside her on the bed. "No, no, baby. I'm sorry." He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. He loved his daughter to bits and he tried his best to be in every moment of her life. His ideal way of raising a kid included showering with love and being strict when it was absolutely necessary. But maybe he was trying too hard.

Queen was a good kid and had never given him any trouble. And that was something to be grateful for.

He sighed again and absently smoothed the hair out of her face. "You really shouldn't go up there now as it's occupied," he said.

Queen nodded vigorously in agreement.

He tucked the duvet tighter around her and adjusted MeeMee in her arms. "Comfy?"

Queen smiled. "Comfy."

He returned the smile and bent to kiss her cheek. "How was your day?"

The girl giggled and pretended to think deeply about it. "It was cool," she eventually said. "We went up to the big market in Mrs Rosenthal's ball car."

Queen refused to be persuaded that the housekeeper's hunchback wasn't a giant soccer ball taken straight out of the field and fixed up on wheels.

"That's nice," he said. "Queen, Daddy's sorry for being harsh earlier today," he added after a long pause.

The girl smiled and reached up to pat his cheek. "It's okay, Daddy," she said. "Are you okay?" There was a slight stress on the 'you'.

A pregnant pause packed the air.

He took hold of the tiny hand on his cheek and squeezed it fondly. He was deeply touched by his daughter's concern, she was such a sweetheart. But he didn't want to be the source of her worries. He never wished to be. She was just so little and too young to be having worries. At such young age, she ought to be carefree and happy, like other kids. How many five-year-olds frowned in worry at least once a day?

None, he answered his own question.

He rubbed her hand in-between his and smiled. "Daddy's going to be fine, sweetheart. He just had a super tough day at work," he said. "A cow ran away but Daddy got him back." He made a show of strength by flexing his bicep and doing a mock strong face.

Queen giggled and clutched the panda tighter.

Satisfied, he bent to place a deep kiss on her forehead. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Daddy." Her eyes fluttered closed with a beautiful smile on her face.

Mentor was just at the door, reaching for the light switch when his daughter spoke up again. Her voice has gone all drowsy and sleep-laden.

"Aunt Shilla called today."

He froze, his hand in mid-air.

Shilla? He frowned intensely as a tiny feeling breezed past. What did his sister want this time?

"What'd Aunt Shilla say?" he was quick to ask.

"She said . . ." Queen's voice had been slurred and barely audible.

When she didn't say anything again he turned back to the kid and sighed. She had gone to sleep. Her panda was clutched tight and a happy smile rested on her face.

A soft feeling unfolded in his chest. She was so adorable.

He turned off and closed the door behind him. God knows what Shilla had said. He had better go get his phone.