Magic Ball: the Billionaire in Ranch

14 A Lonely Cowboy and Noah’s Magical Herbage

When the bartender slithered back Brice’s mug, he faced Noah, his expression thoughtful. “Well,” he stated, “I’ve plenty of people I can recommend since farming is all this town’s ever done.”

“I’m asking the right people, then,” Noah remarked as he looked down on his mug. “Anyone’s fine as long they remain honest and loyal.”

“That’s what these local, humble people are for.” The bartender snickered heartily, his chest puffing at the action.

“There’s an old man around here who lives a few meters from this place. His name is Thomas. I heard he owned a ranch before.”

“What happened?” Noah questioned while dipping the lighted tip of his cigarette on the ashtray. Brice tapped his shoulder and asked for another stick. Noah dug in his jean pocket and tossed him the box.

The bartender shrugged his broad shoulders. “Debts, probably. When you live in a small little down, earning capitals is harder when you’re doing the farming without sponsors.”

Noah nodded in understanding. “I see.” He glided cash on the counter and gestured Brice that it’s time to retire for the night.

“It’s the house next to us.” The bartender called as Noah pushed halfway through the door, “he’s an experienced cowboy. I’ll see you both!”

Noah waved his hand at him without looking back. He heard Brice say something merrily that made the bartender laugh out loud.

Heads from all over the bar followed their steps until they reached Noah’s car. He understood that they weren’t used to visitors in their small town.

“Let’s leave the car,” Brice said while taking his bag, “the old man said it’s that house.” He pointed at a red-colored house from across the bar. Noah tailed his direction and bobbed his head fast.

Brice started walking towards it, and Noah followed from behind him.

When they reached the front door, Brice whispered something incoherent that earned him a glare from Noah, “I can’t hear you, dumbass.”

He scooted closer, “I said this might be like one of those serial killer houses where the townsfolk conspire to kill any visitor—”

Noah rolled his eyes, “Stop. I’m going to knock.”

“No, Noah! Think about it.”

“You’re overreacting. It’s the alcohol.” He knocked three consecutive times.

Brice freaked out like he usually did.

Footsteps came from inside, and soon, Noah heard the clicking of the lock as Brice went back on the side of the road.

Noah reproached him lightly like how his mother would when Mary didn’t want to eat vegetables.

“Dumbass, he’s not a serial killer. Come back here.”

Brice shook his head, his knees literally trembling. “Tell my mother I love her if I die here tonight.” He said as he braced his mouth shut.

“Good evening.” An old man who’s built still matched that of Noah’s leaned on the door frame. “How may I help you, lads?”

Noah thought he looks rather young if not for the gray hair that occupied his head and the lower half of his face. 

“I’m Noah Martin. I know its kind of late. Sorry about that.” He smiled apologetically before the old man took his hand—he had a firm grip.

“No worries.” The man answered shortly.

Noah heard Brice from behind as he staggered closer to where they were. He stood a foot behind Noah, close enough so that he can sprint away when something spooked his overacting mind.

Noah cleared his throat. “I heard from the owner of that bar down there that you once owned a ranch?”

There was something in the eyes of the old man—all the green hues circling like diamonds—that sparked and at the same time, vanished into thin air. Noah couldn’t entirely ignore the feeling that he was sad.

“I did. Years ago, when I was your age.” The feeling was straight on accurate. He gave a forced smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re the best in town,” Noah said with a hopeful smile. The man didn’t mind the compliment as something ignited inside him that lightened the mood around them.

“Are you with that young man over there?” he pointed at a hovering Brice behind a lamp post.

How did he get there? Noah thought infuriatingly.

He nodded as he forced himself another smile as he said “he’s just shy.”

The old man formed an “o” in his mouth.

“Anyway, I thought you could work with me.” He caught the man’s eyes unblinkingly.

The man’s brow creased, and then he flutters an eyelid. “For what?”

“I need a reliable person to manage my ranch. I’m from the city, and I don’t know if I can constantly travel back and forth in the countryside to manage my ranch.” He stopped and watched the man’s slow nod. “The people around here highly respect your skills. Would you do me the honor of hiring you?”

There was a long stillness that stretched for minutes. The old man was apparently less talkative than your normal neighbor grandpa that Noah often chatted with when he was back at Knox City.

“Well?” Noah broke the silence as he skimmed his hands inside the pocket of his jeans. “I don’t see any reason not to try.” He advised quite obviously. There was something about this man that he’s intuition had been screaming; worthy and skilled.

The old man tilted his head downwards as a sigh came out of his mouth. He moved his palms behind his neck. Closing his eyes, he remained silent for another minute or so.

Noah can sense the tension Brice is emitting behind him. He’s probably made up a hundred scenarios that portray his death and escape.

“Let me try,” the old man started, “but I need assistants. Atleast two capable people that can help me with work.”

Noah contemplated. He then raised his thumb. “Sure. Do you have someone in mind?”

“My son, Wynn. I have trained him to be a cowboy since he was eight years old. There’s no one as equally skilled as that son of mine.”

Noah smiled. “He better be,” before he added, “I have expectations for the both of you.”

Footsteps seized a spot beside Noah, “We didn’t catch your name.” Brice spoke more softly than he frequently did. “I’m Brice, by the way.” His hand quivered as he reached it to the old man.

“Thomas,” the old man said. “Nice to meet you, Brice.”

“How about the other assistant?” Noah interrupted.

Thomas scratched below his chin, “There’s another one—a cowgirl around if you would prefer that. She has enough experience as Wynn and I.”

“A woman?” Brice asked, his eyebrows elevated.

“Yes. Nancy’s been with Wynn since they were kids. A great rider of horses if you ask me.”

“I bet.” There was malice behind Brice’s voice which earned an elbowing from the side of his hips. Brice choked and looked apologetically at the old man’s disgusted face.

“Didn’t mean anything about it.” He murmured as he took a step back on the stair’s railings.

“How about that?”

“I’ll talk to Wynn and Nancy.”

“All settled, then.” Noah held his hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Thomas.”

Thomas gripped his hand, “So am I.”

There—the twinkle in his eyes shined brighter than it did before, perhaps it was because he was reminded of the burned-out passion he had.

Holding out the Magic Ball in the air, Noah stood barefooted in the middle of his lawn, the lavish grass tickling the skin on his soles. The sun’s ray shined in his presence like a spotlight. He wore a white shirt and jeans, his hair still damped from the shower he had taken this morning. The radiance the sun emitted passed through his irises, highlighting it into a new shade; golden brown.

He reached his hands inside the crystal layer, and soon, he felt the tug in his chest. He was pushed further inside, causing him to close his eyes from the bright light that hit him.

Noah landed swiftly on another lawn, the grass a shade lighter—brighter even that it looked synthetic and unnatural to the naked eye.

It’s been weeks since he set foot in this little haven of his. The only noise around him was the wheezing of the wind and the barking of his three dogs.

Noah’s gaze landed on the World Tree, its leaves gorgeous than it had before. The surrounding hole he dug around it was filled with crystal clear water coming out from its full tree trunk. The wooden cabin would surely be dirtier, though Noah doubts that its structure made of wood wouldn’t quickly decay. In fact,  it still appeared newly varnished.

When his eyes landed on the lawn he proudly cleaned, a sigh of relief made it out of his lips.

Finally! There were no weeds that grew over its fertile soil. The trick was to dig on the dirt it grew in so that it won’t regrow on the spot it had been plucked out. Noah had been rigorously doing it for the past two months.

Every night, he would continuously shovel and pluck, and shovel and pluck, which in turn, gave him sore joints the next morning. He didn’t mind the mini sacrifice for it made his arms sturdy—and now, he has his own garden he can plant vegetables into.

One lane for onions and another for cloves of garlic planted. Also, another for cabbages his dogs loved so much.

It’s been a day or so since he has planted the seeds. He also had the sprinklers attached beside each row. And from time to time, Noah had them watered consistently. The spring water must have had an effect on the plants since Noah can visibly see the sprouting leaves on the soil. He felt proud of what he’s achieved.

The smile that spread below his ears radiated with the sun’s heat from above him. It’s time to take his babies outside—to the world he was born and raised in.

Noah had long planned to familiarize them with other places than this miniature world inside the Magic Ball, but with all the paperwork he has been handling, he didn’t have the opportunity to do so.

Now, he has his own ranch, hired a bunch of people to manage it, and his paintings giving him an inordinate amount of income from being displayed on walls. Noah thought he had to take care of his fortune so that he won’t quickly lose them. He needs to be smart about every move he’ll make—he was the king and queen in a chess game, and he has no one but himself to protect.

He was thankful that Michael and Brice were in the city to fulfill his requests, but they won’t be around forever. That’s why Noah decided to take some matters at his own hands. That includes training his dogs that grow more human as the days went by. 

Whistling with his fingers, he heard distant barks from behind the cabin. Noah waited under the sun, lounging beneath it to get his skin more color.

The barks neared, and the first one to jump at him was Cole. He stood atleast one foot smaller than Noah.

“Woah, big guy.” He balanced himself as he patted Cole’s head while he wiggled his tail.

Mik circled Noah’s legs, barking at Cole as if to tell him that he’s had his fair share of time with their owner. Ginger rubbed his head on his hips—Noah noticed he acted more like a cat than a dog at times.

“There, there.” He sat crossed leg on the lush grass as all three of them either laid their head on his lap or scooched near his hips.

Noah noted that he can calm them down more now—they weren’t as squeamish as they had when they were still puppies.

Closing his eyes, he started the circulation breathing, his mind blanking.

All three of them landed on his lawn at Maple City.