Chapter 8
EIGHT
People think I go out of my way to piss them off. Trust me, it’s not out of my way at all.
—Sorcha to Denver
DENVER
The night had passed way too fast, and by the time I woke up from a minuscule amount of sleep, I was in a really bad mood.
That mood got even worse when Sorcha said she couldn’t come over today and cook because her grandbaby was sick and she’d be staying home to watch them.
Instead of getting up and cooking food, I sent Jetty to get donuts that would hopefully hold us over until lunchtime, and got to work.
When I got to the barn, it was to see the lights already on and all of the horses munching away on feed.
I found Holly in the last stall filling up the hay for Applesauce.
She happily munched away as I caught up the closest shovel and got to work cleaning out the stalls.
I’d been working for over an hour when the first rays of sunlight started to stream through the open barn doors.
“Food!”
I looked over to see DeeDee in the doorway holding up a box of donuts.
I yawned and acknowledged her with a tilt of my head. “Just put it on that stall right there. Can you make sure that Greta is fed before you go?”
“Sure,” DeeDee said as she walked past me into the closest stall to the stairs. “Hey, Holly!”
“Hey, DeeDee,” Holly’s sweet, angelic voice said. “You look super cute today. New jeans?”
“Kind of,” she admitted. “I need to wear them in. They’re a bit stiff. So I’m wearing them around here doing some chores so when I wear them to the dance next week they actually allow me to breathe.”
I stopped and turned. “You’re going to a dance?”
“It’s the Sadie Hawkins one that I go to every year, Dad.” DeeDee rolled her eyes. “Go wash your hands and eat. You, too, Holly.”
“Oh, I’m good. I don’t need…”
“Jetty literally bought them out of donuts. Trust me when I say there’s plenty.”
DeeDee left after that, making sure to give both of us a pointed look that said, “eat or else.”
“Who’s the parent again?” Holly snickered.
“Sometimes, I wonder,” I grumbled as I walked toward the box. “She only brought my favorite.”
She looked into the box on the railing and frowned. “You like glazed cake the best?”
“I like these, and old-fashioned the best,” I admitted. “I’ll eat regular glazed, but it’s not nearly as good to me.”
“These are my favorite, too.” She plucked one out of the box and immediately brought it up to her mouth to take a huge bite. “Unless it’s cake covered in cinnamon sugar. That’s where it’s at.”
She walked toward the stairs. “Do you want any milk?”
I hesitated, wanting to say yes, but not wanting to invade her personal space.
“Sure,” I eventually said.
She gestured toward the stairs and I hiked up them, feeling all of a sudden nervous.
I was a grown-ass man of nearly forty years old, and here I was getting nervous climbing a set of stairs to an apartment that I owned.
“Come on in,” she said as she left the door open for me to enter. “I also have chocolate milk.”
“What kind?” I asked.
She held up the glass jug and said, “Voleman’s.”
I gave her a thumbs-up. “The only one that tastes good. I’ll take some of that.”
Just as she poured the milk into the glass, a bellow from one of my ranch hands had me sighing. “I’ll bring the cup back.”
Holly smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
When I got downstairs, I grabbed two more donuts for the road, then went to tackle the next disaster.
That disaster being a downed fence with cows out on the road.
“Goddammit.”
That one fucking mistake had us moving the whole damn herd out of the east pasture closest to the ranch house and almost all the way into town.
“You need help?” Major asked as he watched us run the herd right through the middle of town.
“No,” I grumbled.
I was starving, and I hadn’t had a chance to eat in hours.
The donuts, like always, didn’t have enough substance in them to hold me over for long.
And let me tell you something, ranch work was a tough business.
Even at forty years old, I burned a ton of calories being outside and moving.
“You get anything to eat lately?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He sighed. “I’d take over for Sorcha so she could come cook, but none of those damn babies will even look at me when they’re sick. I’ll go saddle up a horse and come help.”
“Thanks,” I muttered darkly.
“This would be a hell of a lot easier if we had Coty and Brodie.”
I gritted my teeth.
Coty and Brodie were Heelers.
They worked cows like a dream.
The only problem was Juliana had taken them with her in the divorce.
Not because she wanted or needed them, but because she wanted things to be even.
I.e., she left Gibson and Greta to me, then took Brodie and Coty for herself.
Honestly, I kind of got a kick out of it each time the girls came home and told me what the dogs chewed up that day.
They were not meant to be idle.
Their passion was ranch work, and they were probably slowly dying inside without it.
“I’m going to get them,” DeeDee growled as her horse lurched left to keep a yearling in line.
Before I could tell her not to, she took off.
I would’ve called her back, but the cows were now lining up outside The Mercantile and trying to get inside.
There was also a little kid at the door looking like he was about to open it for them.
“No!” I growled.
The kid reared back in shock and started to cry.
I got the damn cows off the sidewalk leading up to the store and hurried them along.
The excited yips were back within ten minutes.
“Mom’s going to freakin’ kill us,” Catalina whispered. “But this is a pain in the ass without them.”
The yips got closer and closer, and then there they were, having the time of their lives and getting the cows in line.
They worked together like a team, and I thought about just stealing them.
It wasn’t like she really had any reason to keep them.
I would just have to figure out a way to make it sound like it was her idea…