Brands (Black Gulch Ranch #4)

1. Chapter 1

Blue

Val juts her chin in acknowledgement when I hold up a finger.

Just one more beer. If Clay doesn’t show, I gotta get out of here.

Or send a drink down the bar to the redhead who’s been making eyes at me for the last twenty minutes.

As if she can read my thoughts, Val appears in front of me with an ice cold bottle. “I highly don’t recommend it,” she says with the corner of her bright red mouth turned up in a smirk as her emerald eyes flick to the woman winking at me from the corner.

“Why not? It’s either that or work. She looks a little more appealing.” Propping my elbow on the smooth wood, I tuck my other thumb behind my belt buckle to fully appraise the temptress across the room.

“Yea, well, if you lean her way, she’d be the one working.” Val’s throaty laugh lingers as she sweeps my empty away from me into a hidden bin beneath the counter .

Well, shit.

“Point taken.” I ain’t a fan of paying for favors.

Well, in Vegas for Dix’s wedding I may have lost a fair amount at the craps table to stay long enough for a very well endowed brunette to finally be coaxed to my room.

Money well spent.

I’m just lucky I didn’t come home with anything itching more than an empty wallet.

My drink is almost warm by the time the bell over the door lets out it’s tinny chime signally Clay’s arrival.

“Hey, Blue. Sorry I’m late.” Clay pushes his broad brimmed hat back on his head and slides into the stool next to me. “Had a damn first time freshener decide she didn’t want to be milked and ended up wallowing in the pond.”

“I guess that explains the musky smell.” I grin at him, making a point to raise my eyebrows and wrinkle my nose.

“Ha. Ha. I bet it makes you miss it?” He waves Val over. “Can I get a Coors? Shit. Sorry. Better make it water.” He grimaces and twists in his seat.

“Since when?” I’ve never known Clay to not be thirsty after all day in the dairy barn.

“My doc said to cut down on the alcohol.” He nods towards our maroon haired bartender when she slides the glass between his hands. “Thanks.”

He works his thumb up and down the condensation, but doesn’t raise it to his lips. “That’s why I asked you here today.” He stares at the ice cubes bobbing near the surface, then taps one down with the tip of his finger .

“For what? To tell me you quit drinking? Fuck, Clay. Whole lotta guys our age have peeled back. You start hitting the forties and the liver starts holding us hostage.” I run my palm over my own silver whiskers before taking another swig of my lukewarm beer.

I ain’t there yet. But the hangovers sure hurt a hell of a lot worse than they used to.

He crushes his hat over his eyes, then pulls it up just enough to meet mine. “I wish. My guts are all trained up to drink a barrel. Except I couldn’t piss it out.” He lets out a long exhale and his cheeks pale, making his blue eyes seem duller.

I almost start to laugh, but the serious expression makes me pause. “Clay? What’s up?” I’m not used to this somber side.

He and I usually cut up to the point we’re both laughing so hard we’re wipin’ tears.

With a hard swallow, he takes a deep breath. “I got cancer.”

I feel like I just got hit in the chest.

“Shit.” I guzzle down the last bit of my drink while I try and figure out what the hell to say.

He shakes his head, looking back at his hands. “Yea. Sucks donkey dick.” He glances around, dropping his tone to a whisper. “Fucking ball cancer. Testicular.”

“Damn. Can’t they just cut ‘em off? I can call you ‘Nutless Taylor’.” I try to add some levity.

Seems to have worked.

The corner of his mouth rises, but he drops his arm to cover his crotch. “I hate the idea of it, but I prefer ‘family jewelless’.” He chuckles and reaches for his water, then lets out a long sigh.

“That’s what I need your help with. I might have to start liquidating some of the herd.

With all the bullshit the doc wants me to do, I can’t keep them up.

I came to ask if you’d be willing.” He side-eyes me before focusing on his water.

“I have some shit to do first, and some tests to hear back on, so it won’t be right away. Probably this winter.”

That’s usually my slower time. Fall is busy with fairs and rodeos, plus everyone wanting to sell off their summer livestock. And I gotta check the brands on every damn transaction on this end of Montana.

“Yea, I’ll do everything I can.” I’ve known Clay for ten years, and we’ve become good friends for the last three.

I don’t have many. Him, Dix, Mason, Ford, and Wade. A small circle, but I’d kill or die for any one of them.

“Just do me a favor, will ya?” Clay grunts as he shifts in his chair.

He looks uncomfortable, making the reality of his situation hit me.

“Anything.”

“Don’t tell anyone.” He slides forward enough only the back pockets of his Wranglers cling to the cushion. “Only you and my doc knows. I don’t need any of those damn vultures at Hendricks finding out.”

Just me?

An image of a tall blond with blue eyes like Clay’s dances through my mind.

I met his daughter for the first time just this past summer, and she was with Dixon and Char at their wedding.

“What about Libby? Did you tell her?” I hardly know her, but she seems capable as hell.

And charismatic. Every head turns when she walks into a room.

I’d have asked her to my suite in Vegas, before I realized who she was.

Fuck, I feel guilty now for ever entertaining the thought.

Clay shakes his head. “No. She’d want to do something crazy like try and save the farm. If Marge was still alive, maybe there’d be a chance. But I saw how fast the cancer took her, I don’t want to risk not having everything in order. My kids deserve to have a better life than milking cows.”

That’s about when I met Clay, shortly after his wife died.

I feel for Libby having lost her mom, and now her dad fighting the same disease.

Damn it all. It ain’t fair .

“You have my word.” I clap him on the back, partly to hide the pain I know is twisting my own features. “You let me know what you need and when.”

“Thanks, Blue. I won’t know more right away. The biopsies and all that shit don’t come back until around Thanksgiving.” He turns and squints one bright eye. “Ever had a needle shoved into your ballsack?”

That makes me wince to think about. “Nope. Don’t wanna, either.”

His arm waves in a broad arc. “There isn’t a soul on this planet that wants that shit,” he chuckles. “Ain’t like I use ‘em anymore, but damn, I still like the little guys.”

The humor fades. “I just don’t want to leave my kids alone, ya know?

I gotta do this for the best chance.” He picks up his glass and takes a long swallow.

“I wanna walk my little girl down the aisle some day. And see Devon grow out of his teenage asshole stage and become the good man I know he can be.”

I remember Libby standing at the table in Mason’s house, yelling that she should have shot the man who was hurting her friend instead of just running him off with her gun.

She’s a wild one. I can’t imagine what kind of guy she’d end up with.

They’d be handling dynamite. But in a damn hot body.

I’d hate to be on her bad side .

“You tell me what you need, I’ll be there. We’ll make sure you’re around for the long haul. Grandbabies and all that.” I smile, tipping my empty bottle towards him in a half-hearted toast.

“Whew.” He lets out a low whistle. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

I’d rather it be Devon before Libby.” His eyes get misty.

“I mean, that’s my baby girl.” He shakes his head at me.

“You might get it one day, when you have a daughter of your own. You want to protect them like there’s no tomorrow. ”

I snort as I wave Val down. “Me and kids are a long ways off. Might not even be in my cards, Clay. I think I’ve hit the age where they call me a ‘confirmed bachelor’.” I wryly hold up my new beer.

He shrugs. “As long as your pecker still works, there’s a chance. Old bulls still settle. Mine’s only good for—” He peers at his worn watch on his wrist. “—about a month. Then I’m a steer for life.”

It makes my nuts shrivel to think about it.

Only a few more weeks and I’ll be spending all my free time at his ranch cataloging cows. He probably wants to transfer all their dairy records too. That could take a while.

There’s just one thing I’m worried about.

What the hell is Libby going to do when she finds out?