7. Bishop
bishop
. . .
Friday night dinners were a big thing on Black Springs Ranch. Every week, the Hayes household gathered around their massive dining room table at seven on the dot. Not that anything bad happened if you walked in late, but Doug would absolutely give you shit about it if you didn’t have a good reason.
In all the years they’d included me in their tradition, I’d only been late four times. It’d been fine, seeing as Doug had been with me for each, and he couldn’t very well say anything when it’d been his doing.
But tonight marked number five, and I knew I’d get an earful when I walked through the door. It wouldn’t matter if I told him I had to shower and change clothes because I didn’t want to ruin the cream-colored chairs.
Lennox had beaten me to the stables, made evident by the sound of Strider noisily munching on his dinner from his stall.
I was just grateful we’d made it back before the thunderstorm rolled in.
While Titan was a massive fucker, he wasn’t fast by any means.
He hated when I made him go any quicker than a lope .
But the rain was coming down in a steady deluge by the time I’d made it back to my cabin and showered. Normally, I’d walk to the main house, but no way in hell was that happening tonight.
My old white truck was parked beneath a covered awning on my front lawn. I hurried out, sighing as I settled into the patched leather seats. It’d seen its fair share of wear and tear since Doug passed it down to me so many years ago.
When I’d started on the ranch, I had five bucks in my pocket and a chip on my shoulder. My mom kicked me out of the house at seventeen. With nowhere to go, I decided to walk out here and ask for a job.
I’d gotten to know Doug by working at Tractor Supply.
He’d stop by to pick up feed and shoot the shit until his wife called asking where he was.
I’d come to idolize him in a lot of ways.
He was the type of man I wanted to become—dependable, kind, and hard-working—and I was determined to prove myself worthy.
I didn’t want to think where I’d be if he’d turned me away.
Turning over the ignition, I listened to the comforting hum of the diesel engine. I rested my forehead against the steering wheel, praying for patience, which I knew was already in short supply. I'd need all I could get to make it through this dinner.
I followed the gravel road to the main house, parking next to Lincoln’s truck. I was glad he and Josie had gotten together. He’d become a damn fine addition to the ranch’s ranks, holding his own and not needing someone to constantly oversee him.
Though, I did notice there were a few times he’d disappear into his and Josie’s new office, only to come out grinning like the damn devil.
“’Bout damn time you showed up, son!” Doug boomed as I stepped into the foyer. He stopped in the doorway, holding a big salad bowl for the table. “I was about to send Lincoln to look for your ass. ”
“No need,” I said, toeing off my boots. I looked down, scrutinizing the bowl of greens. “The fuck is that, though?”
Doug rolled his eyes, ready to smart off as his wife, Ruby, came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle.
They were complete opposites. Where she was fair with soft edges, he had hard lines and leathered skin.
Her blonde hair was cropped around her shoulders, loosely swinging as she kissed his cheek.
It was crazy how much Lennox and Cleo took after Ruby, while Josie was the spitting image of her dad. All three girls, however, seemed to inherit their dad’s mile-wide stubborn streak.
“Doctor’s orders,” Ruby said. “This one talked the girls into bending the rules on his red meat restrictions too many times over the summer, but that shit stops now.”
It didn’t matter how long I’d been an honorary member of the Hayes household; I was still caught off guard by two people so disgustingly in love after so many years of marriage. As a kid, the only relationships I saw were incredibly one-sided. Maybe it’s why I was so damn jaded as an adult.
I’d never been in an honest-to-God relationship in all my forty years. There’d been casual hook-ups and shit—I wasn’t celibate—but when it came to dating, I was clueless.
The closest thing I’d found was the ranch.
I was married to my work and dedicated to it like most people would be to another.
My job would always come first, and a lot of women didn’t understand that.
Not that I blamed them by any means. They deserved more than coming in second, but I’d never found anyone worth putting first.
“Criminal,” I laughed, shaking my head and clearing my thoughts. No point in dwelling on things that didn’t matter.
“That’s what I said,” Doug muttered. “But they don’t seem to care. ”
“We don’t!” Cleo chimed in, carrying a tray of grilled chicken. “You’ll thank us someday.”
“Highly unlikely,” he called back. “Get in here and help me with these women. They’re ruthless, and Lincoln’s switched sides.”
I removed my hat, hanging it on one of the designated hooks. “Yes, sir.”
Lincoln set down two pitchers of sweet tea in the center of the table. “Sorry, Doug. I sleep next to one of those women at night, and I’m not looking to change that,” he said. “Josie’d have my fucking balls.”
“Smart man,” Ruby said with a smile. “I knew I liked you.”
“Castration seems more like my thing,” Lennox said, striding out of the kitchen.
“I did learn how in 4H as a kid, I bet it’s like riding a bike.
” Her hair was still wet, pulled back in a low ponytail.
She wore a distressed Black Springs Ranch t-shirt that looked to be about three sizes too big, nearly swallowing her body whole.
I tried not to gawk, to look away, but all I could think about was how she looked wearing my shirt not long ago. Suddenly, my pants felt tighter. I adjusted myself, trying to be discreet, but Lennox caught me.
Her eyes dipped to my crotch, jaw ticking as she met my stare. I couldn’t tell if she was pissed or turned on or both. It was impossible to know with her.
Doug chuckled. “Baby girl, I pray for the man who decides to bunk beside you. He’s gonna have to be strong as hell.”
Lennox smirked. “He sure will. I won’t accept anything less.”
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” I mumbled beneath my breath.
“What was that?” she asked, craning forward.
I shook my head. “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”
Lennox tutted, taking her seat. “Heard that happens with old age. ”
“Lennox Rose!” her mother scolded. “Where are your manners?”
“When has she ever had them?” Cleo asked, taking the seat beside her sister. “She’s always been a little rough around the edges.”
Lennox swung her arm around Cleo’s neck, pulling her close. “You love my rough edges. Admit it.”
Cleo laughed, pushing her away. “Never said I didn’t.”
“Never said she did, either,” Josie chimed in, dropping down beside Lincoln. She jumped, looking Lincoln’s way before rubbing her thigh. “What was that for?”
“For instigating shit,” he said, reaching for a cherry tomato from the bowl. He popped it into his mouth, wiggling his eyebrows in taunt.
“Like you always do?” she shot back.
“I’m an angel,” he said, holding his hands above his head in a gesture I thought was supposed to be a halo.
As the group continued to bicker while piling their plates, I couldn’t help but smile. Grateful didn’t even come close to covering how I felt to have a seat at their table. It was like this every week—same shit, different day.
“Is that a smile?” Lincoln asked, pointing a finger my way.
“Fuck off,” I said, leaning forward to knock it away. “I don’t do that shit.”
“Oh, we know,” the table said, damn near in unison.
“Everything ready for tomorrow, Bishop?” Doug asked, pouring a glass of sweet tea. I was almost positive that wasn’t on his prescribed list of shit he could drink, but I was willing to bet Doug would rather die than cut it from his life.
“Sure is. Lincoln and I are going into town in the morning to pick up a few last-minute things. I checked with Cook earlier, and he has all the food prepped.”
“Great,” he said, looking down the table at his wife. “Don’t even think about limiting me tomorrow. If this is my last rodeo, then so be it.”
She rolled her eyes, but nothing but love was shining back at him. “It won’t be your last, so just stop that, Charles Douglas Hayes.”
“Oh shit, Daddy. You just got government named,” Lennox snickered. Doug hated his full name. Thought it was too stuffy for a cowboy, and that he didn’t look like a Charles.
“And I’ve already done it to you once, young lady,” Ruby warned.
Tomorrow was Doug’s birthday. Usually, when the girls tried to make a big fuss out of it, he shut it down pretty quick, but this year was different. He’d fully embraced the mayhem they’d planned. He only had one condition: it was used to show the workers how appreciative he was of their work.
Every hand was off work tomorrow except for feeding the horses and mucking stalls. Doug said it was the least he could do, seeing as their workload often tripled during the four months or so that made up the workshops.
Doug was making a real show out of it, too.
I hated to think about the cost of it all.
Everyone could bring their friends and family to celebrate with them.
Events were scheduled all day, which meant a quick way for the hands to make or lose some of the money they’d earned.
Cowboys liked betting as much as they liked beer.
He’d bought enough food to feed a small army and hired a band to play that night.
Honestly, Doug and Ruby had put these things together before, but I’d never seen anything this scale.
It made me wonder if maybe Doug was really scared he might not live to see another birthday roll by.
His health had been a point of concern for the past six months, and the girls had been worrying themselves with his care.
Doug brought Lincoln to Texas and offered him a permanent position because he wanted to ensure that all aspects of his legacy were covered.
“Yeah, I can’t wait to kick Bishop’s ass and take his money,” the man in question said, leaning back in his seat. He was like a goddamn puppy—so full of energy and jokes. It was exhausting sometimes.
I kicked his foot beneath the table, earning a chuckle. “I’d like to see you try.”
“I’ll do more than try. Be sure to have your wallet ready. Maybe pull out some extra cash when we’re in town tomorrow just to be safe.”
We ate through the rest of our dinner much the same, ribbing one another until our sides hurt from laughter.
There was only one rule at the dinner table: no talking business.
It was a welcome reprieve for all of us, knowing we could walk in, sit down, eat a damn fine meal, and not have to worry about talking about the same shit we dealt with every day.
As Ruby pushed to stand, Cleo cleared her throat. She looked up and down the table before her gaze fell to her lap. “I have some news to share,” she said, pausing as Lennox reached over and grasped her hand.
“Sweetheart, is everything okay?” her mom asked, concern etched into her features. She and Doug shared a look, and he shook his head. Clearly, he didn’t know what was going on either.
“I know I’ve been back in Texas for a while now, and there've been a lot of questions I haven’t had answers to,” Cleo said, straightening her shoulders. “But I wanted to let you know I’m not going back to Montana.”
Ruby put a hand over her chest. “You’re staying in Texas?”
Cleo nodded. “Yeah, Momma. I am.”
“Oh, thank God,” Doug laughed. “I’ve been wondering when I’d walk out to find your bags packed in the foyer.”
Lennox raised her hands above her head, trying to bring a lightness to the confession that felt like anything but. I admired that about her. She used her loud as fuck nature to divert the attention of others her way when things got heavy. “The Hayes sisters are back, baby!”
“What about Thomas?” Ruby asked, brows furrowing.
Josie swung her gaze down the table. “Mom…”
“Are you guys going to get a place in town? We’d love to have you close, to gift you a plot of land like we have for your sisters?—”
“Momma, seriously?—”
“We’re getting divorced,” Cleo said in a rush. “Thomas is staying in Montana with his brother, or at least that’s what he told me. I don’t know, and I don’t care. He can rot in hell.”