Chapter 10
10
JOHNNY
Joker sways beneath my body, keeping pace with Wade and Kip. The black beast of a horse beneath my boss keeps his head up and ears alert as we follow behind the herd of cattle, bringing them toward their new home for the next few weeks.
My pup, Tracker, leads the herd, running from one side to the other with sharp yaps that force the cattle back in line when they sway a bit too far from the others. Rotation days are his favourite because he gets to mouth off without getting in shit for it. And that’s a common occurrence around here.
I got him from a farmer a few towns over who offered an entire litter of Australian cattle dogs to Wade in exchange for one of our best bulls. Wade told him, in more polite terms, to kick rocks, but I took one look at the grey, black, and brown puppy with a tongue damn near the length of my forearm dripping puddles onto the grass and took him as my own.
“You should get a couple of pups for yourself,” I say to Wade. “The ranch could use a few more.”
“Between you and Thomas, I already got plenty of mutts around here.”
“I can’t tell if you’re referring to us or our dogs.”
He scoffs a rasped laugh. “Both. ”
Thomas, one of my friends from school who works with me on Steele Ranch, bought one of Tracker’s sisters that same day. He doesn’t spend a single day at work without her by his side. We have our obsession with our dogs in common, amongst a handful of other things.
Bandit looks similar to Tracker but has grey-blue eyes instead of brown and enough energy to put every other animal on the ranch to shame. It’s hard to tell them apart unless you’re face to face, so I make sure Tracker’s fitted with his blue bandana before we get to work every morning to try and help.
The siblings battle back and forth with their yippy barks, as if competing to see who’ll do a better herding job, until I lift my fingers to my mouth and whistle. They shut up instantly and get back into their proper positions, no longer concerned with one another.
I spy Thomas on an ATV near the front of the herd, getting closer to the pasture gate that we left open this morning. The grass there is thick and green, healthier than the one we’ve just left. With fall coming soon, we’ve got a million things on the list of to-dos, and just like I do every year, I feel like there isn’t enough time to complete it all. Not even with the full team of ranch hands and Brody and Garrison here, as opposed to a few years back.
The fencing around the pasture we’re moving this herd of cattle to is solid, recently checked for any holes or sharp pieces, and I can’t help but think back to the fence around the bulls. The assholes are only a field over, and if they keep acting like they have been, it’ll only be a manner of time before they bust through to say hello to these cows.
“Have you thought more on the fence situation?” I ask.
Wade doesn’t stiffen at the question, but he also doesn’t look pleased either. It’s the old-fashioned stubbornness in him.
“No.”
“Why not? ”
“I’ve got a lot of things on my mind right now. A lot more important things than the bulls and their tantrums.”
“You’d prefer to think about them after they’ve smashed their way into a herd and fucked their way through ’em all before spring hits and we’re ready for it?” I ask calmly.
He jerks his head in my direction and glares viciously. “I’ve never had anything close to that happen here before.”
“I’m trying to keep it that way with steel fencing around the bull pasture. Let me figure everything out. I’ll take care of it,” I offer, close to begging. “We don’t gotta redo every side. Just the two facing the road and the cattle.”
My gut tells me it needs to get done soon. If he doesn’t take me seriously here, I’ll just do it without his permission and deal with the consequences, knowing the herd is safe.
“You’ve never let anything happen to your cows before, Wade. Everyone knows you love ’em all. So just let me do this,” I add.
There’s a moment of heavy silence as we stare at each other. He keeps his glare brutal, resolve unshaken. The look threatens to have me backing up and telling him to forget I said anything. But I don’t. I hold his glare and keep my features relaxed, proving that I’m sure about this.
“Fine,” he mutters reluctantly. “But make a plan, and then bring it to me. I want more than a half-cocked idea before you destroy a perfectly good fence.”
I grin so wide my cheeks burn. His approval is more than simply acceptance. It’s him putting his trust in me and believing that I can do this.
“Will do. I’ll figure it out tonight.”
He jerks his chin. “You better.”
Thomas revs the ATV and takes off ahead of the herd before swerving between the open gate and leading us all into the pasture. Tracker and Bandit keep the cows in line as they slip through the gate and then spread through the field.
Wade tugs on Kip’s reins and leads him to the left side while Joker and I take the right, herding the back. It moves fast after that, and by the time we ride into the field with the final cow following the others, I take my hat off my head and run a hand through my sweaty hair.
I don’t know what time it is, but my stomach is growling, and my throat is parched. The heat is unforgiving today, and I know my back is slick with sweat. It’s everywhere. One swipe at my upper lip, and I taste it there too.
Thomas makes a long loop and then drives the ATV back toward me, his face red and shirt sticking to his chest just as badly as mine is.
“Lunchtime?” he shouts over the engine.
I look for Wade and find him talking to his second-in-command, Renner, on the opposite side of the pasture.
“Lunchtime. I need to get out of this heat before I pass out,” I reply.
Thomas nods, his ball cap flipped backward, not doing anything to protect his eyes from the sun. At least he’s wearing a hat, though. His buzzed blond head would be bright red if he hadn’t.
“I’ll meet you there, then. I’m excited to get a first real look at the new girl.”
The sly tone of voice would have riled me if I thought he actually stood a shooting chance with Aurora. If I hardly do, he sure as shit doesn’t. Something tells me that she isn’t into backwoods cowboys with chips on their shoulders and a habit of sleeping around.
“A look is all you’ll get,” I shoot back.
“We’ll see about that, J.”
I roll my eyes and slide my fingers back into my mouth before whistling for Tracker. His head lifts and whips in my direction before he takes off, his legs pumping beneath him. After turning Joker to the side, I give her a scratch on her neck and wait.
Thomas whistles for Bandit, and suddenly, the dogs are racing, tongues flopping in the air and tails swatting. I laugh and pat Joker’s side when my pup gets close enough to jump. He doesn’t hesitate before leaping from the ground and jumping onto Joker. Settling into the spot behind me, he shoves his head under my arm, forcing me to lift it and tuck him in my armpit.
“Good boy, Tracker. You beat your sister like I knew you would,” I coo, scratching behind his ear.
“You’re a cheater. He had a head start,” Thomas says.
“She wouldn’t have beaten him if she had a head start, and you know it.”
Thomas waves me off at the same time Bandit jumps onto the ATV and sits on the cushioned seat beside him. He revs the engine a few times before racing off, leaving the air thick with the scent of gas and exhaust.
My horse shuffles forward, wanting to follow him, and I give her the go-ahead while adjusting the reins. Tracker nuzzles into my side, and I keep him secured against my body and beneath my arm as we head back to the house.
The closer we get, the more my excitement grows. After walking Rory home Saturday night and watching her disappear behind her front door, I’ve been counting down the minutes till I can see her again. I didn’t know that it would be this morning or that she was working for Eliza and Wade now, but fuck me, learning of her new job was great news.
Getting to see her every day while I’m working is a reward of epic proportions, even if she still hasn’t actually agreed to spend more time with me than our walk the other night.
I haven’t exactly asked her out yet, and I won’t for a while still. Not because I’m unsure that I want to shoot my shot after everything I said to her the other night but because I’m trying to win her over first. If I did it now, I know she’d reject me. And while I’m a confident guy, I’m not a glutton for punishment.
The ranch house grows bigger and bigger the closer we get until, soon enough, I can see the number of trucks parked in front and hear the loud slap of boots on wood inside the stable. It’s silent around the second stable, so my construction crew must have taken off for lunch too.
Thomas’s ATV is parked beside a brand-new lifted Chevy that Brody brought home with him last week. It’s nice, really damn nice, with thick black tires and dark rims to match. My truck is a decade old now, but she runs as good as new. Once she kicks the bucket, I’ll dive into my savings to find something newer, but until then, I’m happy with what I’ve got.
The house is loud even from outside. Laughter and shouts, even a few hissed curse words, escape the open windows and the flapping screen door. It sounds like home, and once I’ve tied Joker up and ordered my dog to wait for me in the shade of the porch, I’m walking inside with a smile on my face.
“It smells like heaven in here, Eliza,” I say, slipping into the kitchen.
“Your heaven smells like melted cheese?” I hear from somewhere in the throng of sweaty men and cowboy hats.
It sounds like one of the older guys who spends all his time with the calves, but I’m too hungry to investigate.
Sidestepping my way toward where I know Eliza’s griddle sits on the counter, I rub at my empty stomach. The first peek of silver hair behind a broad shoulder is a relief. Eliza stands at the counter with a stack of paper plates in her hands and a griddle full to the brim with tortillas full of shredded cheese beside her. The three empty pitchers next to a stack of plastic cups don’t surprise me. I’m one of the last ones in today, and these fuckers have stolen all the good shit.
Noticing me, Eliza pulls me to the sink so I can wash my hands. The water is cold, and I don’t give it time to warm up as I pump too much soap into my palm and scrub my skin until it’s pink instead of black with dirt. Then, once I’m clean, she shoves a plate at my chest.
“Dish up, Johnny. You’re always the last one in, and I’m tired of slapping greedy wrists while you’re busy puttin’ in more work than you need to be. Hurry up. ”
“You’re sassy today,” I tease but do as she says.
The tortillas are still hot and steaming as I grab one and toss it on my plate. A vegetable tray rests on the opposite side of the sink, and I go to reach for the carrots when Eliza pinches my inner arm.
“Don’t just take the carrots. Take a bit of everything. That plate is for Aurora,” she whisper hisses.
I jerk, more alert. “She hasn’t eaten yet?”
“No. I couldn’t get her to come out here in time before this lot showed up and scared her half to death.”
Nodding, I start collecting a few of each vegetable and setting them on the plate, well enough away from the quesadillas with their gooey cheese in case she doesn’t like her food touching.
When the plate is full, Eliza swaps it for a new one, and I get my lunch served up.
“Go bring it to her. She’s in the office,” she urges as I grip both plates.
I drift my eyes to the empty pitchers and then slowly look back at her. She scoffs and takes two cups from the stack before turning to the fridge and pulling another jug out. My thirst intensifies as I stare at what I know is Eliza’s famous peach iced tea and wait for her to pour it into the cups.
“You’re just as bad as Banana, you know? Pouting and hoping to get your own way,” she chides, but there’s no heat in the words.
“You gotta stop givin’ in to them both, and maybe they’ll knock it off,” Wade grumbles, stomping past me toward his wife.
She flashes him a dazzling smile and pats his chest. “You know as well as I do that I can’t do that.”
He snorts and starts plating himself up some food. I take his entry as my cue to go, and Eliza helps slot the two drinks into my bent elbows before I leave.
I’m only jostled once, but I manage to keep all the food on the plates and the liquid in the cups. The office door is cracked open, and I nudge it further with my socked toes before stepping inside.
The clacking of a keyboard fills the room as Rory hunches over the desk and leans toward a computer screen. There’s a stack of papers beside her and a pen bouncing between her middle fingers as she hums a tune low in her throat.
It almost feels wrong to interrupt her concentration right now, but she needs to eat, and I need to sit beside her for a little while.
“I brought you some food.”
And company, if you’ll take it.
She jumps in surprise despite how gently I speak, and I smile apologetically when she whips around to face me. Her lips are parted, chest heaving as she scowls and uncurls the fingers that must have fallen to her lap.
With her hair up and braided down her back, I can almost see the thump of her pulse in her bare throat as she asks, “What are you doing in here? And what is that?”
“This?” I lift the plate in front of me. “This is your lunch.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Humour me. Eliza gets sad when people don’t eat her home-cooked meals.”
“It’s cruel to use an old lady to get your way.”
“If it means you won’t spend your day hungry, then I doubt she’ll mind.” I risk moving closer, and when she doesn’t tell me to leave, I walk the rest of the way to her. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I grabbed some of everything.”
She watches as I set the plate and cup of iced tea on the desk beside her computer mouse. Blue eyes scan the selection of food before skipping over the cauliflower, her nose crinkling slightly. I hyperfixate on that reaction.
“You don’t like cauliflower?” I ask.
Slowly, she lifts her stare to my plate, watching as I set it beside hers. “Apparently, you don’t either.”
“Not in the slightest. ”
The second office chair—the one Wade occupies during the long nights Eliza’s holed up in here working—is tucked beneath the opposite side of the L-shaped desk. I snag it by the back and drag it toward Rory. The wheels are stiff as I sit and roll closer.
“Anything else you don’t like?”
She twists in her seat and looks back at the computer screen. “If you’re going to eat in here with me, you’ll need to be quiet.”
“You don’t mind if I eat in here?”
“Not as long as you aren’t a gross eater.”
“What makes someone a gross eater to you?” I ask, continuing to dig, knowing already that I’m not a bad eater. My mom used to threaten to glue our mouths shut if we chewed with our food showing.
Aurora sighs before turning her head to give me an up-close view of those gorgeous eyes that I can’t get enough of.
She taps the fingers of her left hand over the keyboard keys. “Chewing with your mouth open. Talking with your mouth full and spitting little bits of it out all over everything. Sucking your fingers clean and making that loud smacking noise.”
“Well, I don’t do any of those things. I’m the politest eater you’ll ever see,” I declare.
“Alright.”
Returning to her work, she glides the mouse over the plain black pad beneath it and clicks on something on the screen. I rest my forearms on the edge of the desk beside her and grab one of my quesadillas, the smell of the cheese making my stomach grumble.
With it raised in front of my mouth, I say, “Please eat, Aurora. I’ll leave you alone once you do if that’s what you want, but you need brain food.”
A twitch of her brow. [SD1] “I thought nice guys weren’t supposed to be demanding.”
“You think I’m a nice guy?” I ask through a wide, split grin.
“You’re helpless,” she mutters, but I see the way the right side of her mouth tugs despite her best efforts to keep it straight .
“What kind of music do you like?”
She doesn’t give a reaction to my question this time. Is she getting used to them?
“Pop. And I don’t want to hear any judgment on it.”
“You won’t find any from me. I have three sisters and am quite a pop connoisseur. Especially if we’re talking boy bands.”
Her eyes grow as round as buttons as she stares at me and blurts out, “You have three sisters?”
“Yep. I have a twin and then two older sisters. Daisy and me are the youngest of the bunch.”
Setting my quesadilla back on my plate, I slip a hand into the pocket of my jeans and snag my phone. Opening up my music app, I click on a pop playlist and keep the volume soft as I set my phone on the desk. The upbeat song that plays covers the upcoming sound of my chewing as I take a big bite of my food.
Aurora glances at the phone for a moment before blowing out a long breath, nearly whistling. “That’s . . . that’s a lot.”
I swallow and nod. “Yeah. There has never been a quiet moment in our house ever. Even after my oldest two sisters, Giana and Josette, moved out.”
“When was that?” she asks softly while picking up a carrot stick and swirling it in ranch before biting into it.
“Giana moved out about . . . ten years ago now. And Josette half of that. Daisy, my twin, is still at home when she’s not in school, which seems to be all the damn time now.”
“What’s it like? Having sisters? Siblings in general?”
The question hardly sounds louder than a whisper but is sharp with something similar to sadness. It gnaws on me, making me move quickly to help dissolve whatever it is upsetting her.
“It was annoying when I was younger. With so many kids in the house, it was always loud and crowded, and I didn’t get my own room until I turned thirteen. But it has its benefits. Like never being alone when you’re sad and having someone that has to love you even when they hate you. ”
I take another bite of my lunch and make sure I chew extra softly to keep from letting her hear it above the music.
She swirls a green stick of celery into the dip. “That sounds nice.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Do you have any siblings, Rory?”
I fix my gaze on her features and watch as her lips turn down and the blue in her eyes grows hard and solid. She’s angry, but I’m unsure if it’s from my question or something else.
“I have a half-sister.”
“I’m going to assume that you aren’t close?”
Her next bite is ruthless, and she rips the end off the celery stick and glares at the remainder of it. “You could say that.”
A laugh builds in my throat before I swallow it down. “I’m sorry you’re not close. I couldn’t imagine not being close with my sisters.”
“We’re hardly sisters,” she huffs.
My brow jumps. “Wanna elaborate on that?”
“No.”
I laugh at her bluntness. It’s refreshing. Reminds me of Garrison.
“Alright. Well, if you ever decided that you wanted to, I’m interested in learning more.”
Her nod is jerky before she lifts the quesadilla to her mouth and sinks her teeth into it. I divert my eyes while she eats and focus on eating my food. Soft music continues to play as we eat in silence, and I let it be the only noise. I don’t want to force her to open up to me.
I’m happy with knowing what I’ve learned so far.