Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“ D
ammit, Mal, what were you thinking?” Trey didn’t know what to do, whether to scratch his watch or wind his butt. He’d tracked down Mal and West, and they were having a beer? Holy shit. He was about done. “You know how I feel about him.”
“I do. But you know what? This ranch is bigger than you, and it’s bigger than your goddamn feelings.” She could be such a bitch.
Thank God the kids were in bed and on the other side of the house, because they were fixin’ to have a fight, him and his best friend. And neither one of them were particularly quiet when they did this kind of thing. “Don’t you snap at me. I am doing the best I can, and you fucking well know it.”
“Well, it’s not good enough.” Her words sliced into him, leaving him gasping for a second. “You cannot run this ranch. You can’t see. What are you gonna do? Get up on a horse and rope the invisible calf? You’ve got two kids, and I can’t fucking trust that you won’t get in the car and try to drive them somewhere.”
That was a low blow, and it wasn’t fair. He wasn’t totally blind, he could see around the spots; his focus was shot, though. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that fucking West was here and saw him when his son had just thrown oatmeal across the floor and Zoe was screaming her fucking head off. “Back off, Mal. I mean it. If you want to have a fight, we can have a big screaming fight out here about shit that doesn’t matter. But don’t you fucking push me on the important stuff.”
She snorted, and he thought she tossed her head. “That’s the thing, the ranch is the important stuff. And you don’t think so! And that’s why I hired West.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake! I’m not selling this fucking place, you know? I’m so god damn mother fucking tired of hearing about how I’m not a rancher, and I’m not a fucking cowboy and I’m not this, and I’m not that. Well, I tell you what, when the shit hit the fan, who’s the one who put all the money into this damn place? It wasn’t you, it wasn’t Granny, it was me. I’m the one who did that. So tell me again how I don’t deserve this land, or how I don’t deserve to be here, or how I don’t care when I could have just walked away. I could have just left. You tell me about that.”
“Hey, guys. Hey.” West’s voice sounded sharp as a shot. “The entire god damn ranch can hear you too. Is this really necessary?”
“Don’t fucking start with me.” He didn’t need to be lectured by Mr. Oh-I-have-to-ride-away-into-the-sunset-instead-of-being-a-decent-lover about anything.
Not one fucking thing.
“Don’t be nasty to him when you’re mad at me,” Mal snarled. “This isn’t West’s fault.”
“No. No, it’s not.” His fury turned from white-hot to pure ice in a heartbeat. “Goodnight, y’all.”
He didn’t want to do this anymore. The fact was Mal was crying, and he wasn’t gonna give in because of the tears. He wasn’t a bad guy. At any point in the last five years, he could have just turned around and walked away. He could have said no, hired himself some sexy little boy toy to take care of him and be his assistant and not done anything.
Not had two kids who were now his responsibility to raise and to love and to make sure they grew up to be normal human beings. No ranch where he got no respect. He didn’t have to do any of this. He could have just walked away and nobody was giving him any credit for being a decent human fucking being.
He heard the murmur of voices, then a rustle, and West caught his arm. “Can we talk, Trey?”
He went still, the feel of West’s callused fingers on his arm almost enough to set him off again. “I don’t want to talk.”
“I know. I can tell.” West stayed calm. Not humoring the lunatic. Just calm. “But I think you’re on the edge of breaking, and I just wanted to kind of chat about some stuff.”
He gritted his teeth. “Chat. About what? That Mal hired my ex to be my foreman? That she brought in the last person I wanted to see… or not see, as it is, to do this?”
“Well, I might be the only man who will do the job.” West sighed, taking his elbow to lead him back into the house. “The big thing is, you know if I’m going to be foreman, we need to present a united front to the cowboys.”
“‘A united front’…” He was going to have another stroke.
“Trey.” West turned him so they were facing each other. “I know it ain’t ideal to you, but I swear, I’m here to help. I can take part of the load off you. That’s it. Nothing nefarious.”
“I just want everyone to leave me alone, West. Especially you. I know Mal promised you a job. And I know you can do it. But I can’t cope with knowing no one thinks I’m worth a damn.”
Because that was it, wasn’t it? All the patents. All the companies. All the money. None of it meant anything. Not one goddamn thing.
“What do you mean, Trey?” West snapped. “You’re not worth anything? Jesus Christ, man. Check your goddamn privilege.”
He almost snarled, and he imagined he would here in a minute, but somewhere down deep inside, he knew West was right. West knew what he was talking about. Trey wasn’t poor. He had the best doctors. He had a home. Hell, he hired people to do basic things for him. He was privileged, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t mad.
“Mal may have hired you.” West made Trey want to chew nails—always had, probably always would. “But I do have the ability to fire you, so don’t be a dick. I don’t need this shit from you.”
Trey took another cleansing breath, which really didn’t help. “Okay. So united front, that’s great. I have a personal assistant. His name is Race, he’s virtual, you can get hold of him, and he could set up a weekly meeting so that we can discuss things. That way you can sign any NDAs. You need to get yourself set up on the tax rolls. All that happy crappy.”
It took West a minute to answer him. “Fair enough, but I still wanna talk.”
“Why?” This wasn’t like West. West didn’t talk. He two-stepped. He drank beer. Fucked like a monster. He didn’t talk. That was one of the things West hadn’t liked about him— that he was so queer. Touchy-feely. Need to talk about his feelings. He’d gotten over that.
“Well, because otherwise it’s gonna be really weird. I’m not just some stranger. I was your friend, man, no matter what. And no matter what happened between the two of us, we were still friends.”
Had they been? Trey wasn’t so sure about that. Lovers? No question. But friends? They’d wanted to talk way more than they ever did.
“Fine. Talk.” He wasn’t sure where he’d ended up, and it felt awfully dark out here on the porch.
“Okay. Look, I don’t know all the shit you’re dealing with. I know some now, but—” West blew out a breath. “I’m not here to be an asshole, you know? I missed you.”
He snorted. He couldn’t help it. What was he supposed to do? Pretend the words didn’t hurt? Sure, West was here to help, now that there was a ranch to take care of, now that there was no reason for West not to have missed him. “You’re not being an asshole.”
“But you’re mad as hell anyway.” West chuckled, and he fought a smile.
“Yeah. I live in that state. It’s an occupational hazard.”
“Well, you have every right to be pissed off. But I just want to help out. That’s all. So let me?”
What was he going to say? Leave me and my ranch to the wolves? That was never going to happen. He needed someone who was trustworthy to make things work here, someone who would just handle shit and leave him be.
“I’m fine with that.” He shrugged. “I am. Do you have any questions or anything? About the ranch, I mean.”
“What do you want out of it, Trey? What do you want it to be?”
“Safe and healthy.” He wanted it to be something the kids could be a part of, something strong and necessary.
“Okay. I get that. So maybe— Can I make a few suggestions about the house and the yard? In a few days, when you’ve had some time to get used to the idea of me being here.” West’s soothing tone made him grit his teeth.
“Is there something wrong with your house? I did a walk-through with the guys and nothing seemed to be broken or anything when the asshole left.” Trey shrugged. “I mean, he took some stuff, but I replaced the toaster oven, the coffee maker, a bunch of dishes, the mattress.”
He didn’t really care. If West wanted to make changes, it was not a big deal. He got it. People wanted to do their thing, have their place be theirs.
But really?
Unless West wanted to make some major damn renovations, which he didn’t know were necessary, West could do what he wanted.
“No, dork, I meant your house and yard.” Was West laughing at him?
He scoffed. “Are you serious? I really don’t want anything moved in the house right now, but you can make whatever suggestions you’d like. In a few days.”
At least he knew this house. He knew where everything was for the most part, except when one of the kids dropped something, or they left something behind, which did happen more often than what anyone would think, but he got around. In fact, he managed so much easier in here where it was familiar.
Even the awful spots of blackness, he didn’t think about them constantly. They didn’t exist so much because he knew enough to get around. Enough to see what it was he needed to see.
He didn’t think about it too hard. That helped it not hurt so much.
“Okay, cool. I mean, my house is great. Thank you.”
“So formal.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to find the right balance between old friend and employee, honey.”
He winced when the “honey” slipped out. He knew better than to let that make his heart beat any faster. It was simply the force of old habits.
“Consider yourself Mal’s problem right now.” He winked to ease a little of the tension—not all of it. West deserved some of it. Sure, he paid the bills, but as far as he was concerned, this was Mal’s issue. She’d hired him. She could deal with him. In that employer-to-boss sort of way.
“I’m not sure that Mal needs any more pressure. She seems like she doesn’t feel very well.”
God save him. “Yeah, I know that morning sickness is kicking her ass, and I’m sure on another day I would be more sympathetic, but today is not the day. It’s not personal.” No. It just was what it was.
“Who’s the money person?”
The question startled him, coming from out of nowhere. “Well, obviously I’m the one who writes the checks or signs the checks, really. My bookkeeper, Maria? She’s the one who writes them. And we talk a lot, so there’s really nothing that happens on that front that I don’t know about and vice versa.”
“I’m not going to steal from you. I just didn’t know how it worked.”
“Sensitive much?” He hadn’t accused anyone of cheating or stealing. “There are a lot of moving parts. A lot of them. No, but basically consider yourself the top tier of management. There’s you, there’s Maria, and once I hire someone to do the housework, to be the, you know, kind of head of household and take care of that too. Those will be the three jobs that are the top layer here on this ranch. After that, things trickle down.”
“Okay. Good to know. So I’ll have hire-and-fire privileges as far as the drovers are concerned?”
“Absolutely.” Everybody else who had had a problem with him or how he ran things had gone already. Everybody new had gone too, so really there was a skeleton crew of guys who had been around for the last thirty years. It was great. “You do you, Boo. You make it work.”
At least as far as the cowboys are concerned.
Well, let him be honest. Trey trusted this son of a bitch with everything except for himself
As far as West was concerned, he had just been honest. Real, true with himself. All those words.
It wasn’t that West hadn’t felt bad about leaving him. It was more as if Trey simply hadn’t mattered that much.
Some other day it would be funny. Today, less so.
But at some point, this would be one of those jokes you told over martinis at a bar.
One of those fancy-assed gay bars West would never be caught dead in. Sure, everybody there was fake, but at least he knew it. He knew they didn’t care about him. That he wasn’t there for love or friendship. It was a business transaction. He wanted arm candy and a nice fuck. He provided a decent lifestyle for brief moment in time.
It was like magic, except where the magic sucked.
“You look pissed.”
“Do I? Like I said, I think it’s just my natural countenance.” Trey tried on a grin. “I’m not sure who you’d ask about the cowboy shit. You’re just gonna have to see which ones work and which ones don’t. They don’t come and talk to me very often.”
Only Ben. Ben came and talked to him every goddamn day. He was the closest thing on this ranch Trey had to a friend.
“Ben Graham is not on the firing list. If he doesn’t work for you as a cowboy, you come to me, and I will find him something to do, but he stays on the payroll. That’s nonnegotiable.”
Man, he did remember how to put on his employer hat, didn’t he?
“Sure.” West sounded a little bemused, but he didn’t push it. “That’s fine. I just wanted to make sure where I stood.”
“Well, now you know.” Trey sighed. “What else?”
“This Ben feller. Would he be the one to give me a tour of the working part of the ranch?” West waited, and Trey thought the man was studying him carefully. Not fair, when he had no idea anymore what all his face gave away.
“Yeah, Ben can do it. He’s been here…shit…since the eighties.”
“Why isn’t he the foreman?”
“Because he doesn’t want to be.” Ben had lost his daughter to cancer.
A son to Afghanistan.
And his wife and grandbabies in a car accident.
Ben wanted to work on the ranch, and now he simply needed to know someone was there who knew him.
That was all he wanted, all he asked. Just to be allowed to stay in this job. It was really what he needed, and that was what Trey provided for him. “He’s not interested in management.”
Trey didn’t blame him. He wasn’t either.
“What’s your involvement with the cowboys?”
“I give them their Christmas bonuses.”
There was a long pause, and then West asked. “So there’s no family meals, no barbecues? Get-togethers? Easter egg hunts? Big weird Christmas get-together things?”
“Nope. I mean, if you want there to be, you’re welcome to set it up. My grandparents used to do stuff like that.”
“Why don’t you?”
Trey held back his urge to scream. Barely. “Well. Because I’ve gone through five foremen in two and a half years, and I really haven’t felt like it. We’ve had a serious death in the family, lots and lots of doctor’s appointments, tons of turnover, and I just haven’t felt like baking a cake and saying ‘Hi, guys, I hope you’re happy’. That’s honestly it. I am treading water, keeping my head just above the surface. There isn’t anything else. You need money, I’ll throw money at you. Otherwise, I’ve got nothing left to give.”
He hadn’t even slept through the night in months. One kid or the other would wake up with nightmares. Possibly both if he was super lucky.
“Okay.” West stood, the scrape of the chair loud. “I’ll get out of your hair unless you need something else?” That was West’s you’re-the-boss voice.
“Nope. I’m not stingy. If you need something, let someone know. Please.”
“You got it. And if you need me, Mal shared my contact with you. Just call or text.”
Cowboys and their cell phones.
“Have a good night.” He didn’t bother to see if Mal had waited. He didn’t think she had. He wanted to go to bed. He had to hire a housekeeper in the morning.
Mal was there, and he bit back a sigh, not wanting to snarl at her. Well, he did, and that was the trouble. “Lady, you should go on home.”
“I know, but I wanted to apologize, get a hug, and…I don’t know. Remind you that I love you?”
“I love you too, you nutburger. You’re okay. We’re okay. It’s just been a hard day, you know?”
“God yes. I really do. Like whoa.” She grabbed him and held on for a second. “I’ll bring cinnamon rolls in the morning…”
He managed a smile. “I’d love that. Really.”
It didn’t really matter if he minded or not.
She was gonna do what she was gonna do. West was going to do what West was going to do.
And he was going to be expected to bankroll it.
He was going to try to get through one day after another without losing his shit. There wasn’t another option right now.
Trey kissed her cheek. “Go on, I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”
“Love you more.”
When she left, he almost hit the whiskey bottle, but what good would that do? He was going to have to get up with the kids, so instead he went to bed. Not even taking off his clothes.