Chapter 12
Seth
I’d never been a guy who cared about my phone.
Miguel loved to look at music videos and dog shaming, or find some chat in his time off and tell other dudes that shirt didn’t go with those pants.
Me? I’d always left mine on the charger when I was home.
A phone was a tool when the boss or John needed me, a distraction I had no interest in the rest of the time.
Except now I charged that phone beside my bed every night, and brought it with me even into the bathroom. Four long days, and the damned thing hadn’t rung. At least, not with the call I wanted to get. I’d answered five spam callers who must’ve been shocked by my eager greeting.
I was ridiculous.
My concentration should’ve improved with the guy I wanted to fuck out of sight.
It hadn’t. I’d whacked my head tripping over a shovel, and almost fed Spritzer with Trooper’s grain.
Luckily I caught myself just before I gave the laminitis-prone gelding far too rich a feed.
In the evenings, I couldn’t focus on reading or TV or any other distractions.
I kept catching myself watching the door, as if some part of me expected Austin to come walking in.
Four fucking days. I congratulated myself that I hadn’t jumped in my truck to cruise the roads looking for a crashed old green pickup. Country boys learned to drive early in bad conditions, and Austin came from a snowy state. He’d have managed fine. Obviously.
His failure to call didn’t mean anything bad had happened.
My phone chimed with a text early the fourth evening. I forced myself to finish washing out my coffee mug before checking the screen. Likely one more sales pitch for siding or windshield replacement—
Unknown number: ~Hey, this is Austin. I have my new phone.
Fuck! Finally. I stabbed the screen to demand a voice call and lifted the phone to my ear.
Austin answered, “Hi? Seth?”
Hearing his voice, knowing he was safe and alive, made my vision go blurry. “Who else?” I barked. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Huh?”
“Four fucking days. You promised to buy a phone and call me. I was imagining—” I cut myself off because I didn’t need to be pathetic. “I figured I’d hear from you before now.”
“Sorry.” What sounded like amusement threaded Austin’s voice.
“You think that’s funny?”
“No. Sorry, really. I wanted to wait till I had more to tell you than ‘I drove a bunch of miles.’”
And didn’t slide off a cliff. But that had been my own anxiety talking. Austin didn’t know I was somehow turning into a worrywart about him. I tried to gentle my tone. “Well, I like hearing from you even when that’s all the news, but there’s more?”
“Some. I found a job. It’s nothing great, just retail for a month, ending on Christmas Eve, but it’ll pay the rent.”
“Congratulations. A job is good.” Relief flooded me, knowing Austin wasn’t going to be broke and starving, even if my anxieties would bounce back in a month. “What kind of retail? Where are you staying?”
Austin laughed. I wished I could see him and watch his eyes light up, but I’d never done video calls.
Maybe he’d help me figure out how. He said, “Pure luck, in a way. I was making the rounds of stores that had listed help-wanted on the community website, and I walked into this gift and souvenir store. I had my Stetson on, because it’s warm enough here to do without the beanie.
I took off my hat and said ma’am to the owner and she decided I had the right ambiance for the cowboy and Native American stuff she features.
John gave me a great reference when she called him, so that helped. ”
“John did?” He hadn’t said a word to me.
“Yeah. He told me before I left that I could use his name as foreman for a reference. Since Mr. Bowen, uh, Kendrick, didn’t really work with me at all.”
“That was nice of John,” I said, stuffing down my irritation.
“Right?” Austin agreed. “I started today. Customer service sucks donkey balls, but I think I did okay.”
“I’m sure you did. Where are you staying?” How far away are you?
“This little trashy motel. They have a deal, two hundred bucks a week.”
“How trashy?”
Austin chuckled. “Let’s just say if I wanted drugs, I could get door-to-door service. But my unit has hot water, a bed, a door that locks, and decent heat. I’ve done worse.”
I broke down and asked, “Which town?”
“Oh. Blue Vista. Didn’t I say?”
Fifty miles. Hour and a half drive with the way the roads were up our way. Very doable. Something clenched tight inside me relaxed a little.
“So how are things on the Star & Bar?” Austin asked. “How’s Ebony doing? And Olive?”
“They’re both great. No more problems. We’re supplementing Ebony’s feed…”
We talked ranching for a while, basic stuff. I told Austin about me tripping and almost knocking myself out to make him laugh, which he did. But he added, “No maiming yourself before I can get back there. Promise.”
“I promise,” I agreed, my voice a little hoarse. “I’ll wait till you get back for any maiming.”
That lame attempt at humor got me a laugh. “Well, I should let you go.” Austin sighed. “We’re open seven to nine all month for the holiday shoppers, and seven till ten the three days before Christmas Eve. Long hours but better money.”
“You get time off, though?”
“Mondays and Tuesdays, yeah.”
“I could come down there,” I suggested. “Trade a day off with Colby.”
Austin hesitated, then said, “Please don’t take this wrong, but I don’t want you to come here. Not yet. This place is a dump, and I need to find my feet.”
“Maybe we could meet somewhere. I could take you to dinner.”
“Maybe. I’ll think about it. I hate goodbyes.”
Desperately, I suggested, “I could make you like hellos, though.”
Austin chuckled damply. “Yeah, I bet you could. You can text me anytime, or even voice call like an old person.”
“I wanted to hear you,” I admitted.
“I didn’t hate it. Now we both should get some sleep. Later, dude.”
I waited, my voice caught in my throat, and after a few seconds, the call cut out. “Later,” I repeated to the silent phone, then slipped it safely into my pocket.
Relief, sadness, and frustration pulsed through me, followed by a welcome flash of anger. John fucking knew where Austin was. I shoved my feet into my boots, wrapped myself in my parka, and tramped through the snow to John’s cabin.
Tiffany yanked open the door on my second demanding knock. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, uh, nothing. I just need to talk to John.”
“Come on in.” She pulled the door wide.
I wasn’t going to stay, but leaving my boots on the mat was courtesy. They had the cabin so warm, with a fire in their woodstove, that I took off the parka as well.
John glanced my way from the couch, heaved his big body upright, and came over to me. “Hey, Seth. What’s up?”
Ramble bounded to us and put his paws on my leg, his tail whipping back and forth, while Patch blinked lazily at me from a dog bed by the stove. I rubbed Ramble’s ears and convinced him to get off me with added butt scratching. By the time I looked up, some of the fire in my belly had cooled.
My voice sounded reasonable as I asked, “Why didn’t you tell me Austin had called you for a reference in Blue Vista?”
“Huh? He asked for a reference three times. I thought he’d have told you. Did he get the job?”
“Yeah. I— Fuck.”
John narrowed his eyes under bushy brows. “What?”
I was embarrassed to admit Austin had shut me out, but I’d stomped over here. “Um, I hadn’t heard from him. Not since he left. I was kind of imagining him in a ditch somewhere.”
“Oh, fuck,” Tiffany put in. “No wonder you’ve been half-useless for four days.”
“Say what?” I stared at her. I was pretty sure no one had seen the shovel incident.
“Yeah. I had to call three times to get your attention this morning, and you were standing ten feet away.”
“Oh.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my face. “Sorry.”
John said, “I’d have told you if I knew he hadn’t. What the hell was the kid thinking?”
Tiffany grinned at me. “You should put him over your knee and spank him next time you see him.”
“Fuck you,” I told her, but her joke lightened the mood.
She asked, “Did you have a fight?”
“No. I don’t think so? He’s got an independent streak.”
“Yeah,” John agreed. “Almost freezing in his truck rather than asking for help made that pretty clear.”
I nodded. “I think he just wants to prove he can get by without help. He went straight from his father’s house to that old truck, and then here.”
“Sure.” Tiffany sat on the couch. Ramble trotted over to her and leaned against her leg for pats. “Maybe he didn’t trust you not to run down and try to save him at the first hint of trouble.”
“I wouldn’t do that.”
John raised an eyebrow. “No? Seems like you were pretty protective of him.”
“Only if he asked me to help.” But I’d come close to randomly driving the roads to look for him two days ago. I’d tackled him in the barn rather than let him out into the snow. “Maybe.” Okay, I would so do that.
The warmth of John’s big hand on my shoulder was a comfort. “You’re a good man, Seth, but you do tend to take everything on yourself. Like with Miguel.”
“Huh?” I stiffened.
“Takes two to make a mistake like that. Three, if you count Zachary. You always blamed yourself, but they were responsible adults. Have you ever checked up on them?”
“Zachary’s married with a daughter,” I said, as if it was me who’d known that and not Davis.
“Yeah, I heard. Kendrick sent him a wedding present.”
My face flushed, realizing that maybe I’d been the only one who’d cut Zachary out of my life. Of course the boss had kept track of the guy injured on his ranch. Of course John had too. I was such a fool.
John gripped my shoulder, rocking me back and forth. “And Miguel?”
“No clue,” I admitted.
He let go and thumped my back. “Me either, but I’m sure the kid landed on his feet. He was a skilled rider and a decent man, even if he didn’t take things to heart like you do.”
“I know.” It hadn’t been Miguel’s fault I got so hot and bothered just watching him.