Chapter Eight #2
“Good luck.” But she didn’t fully believe that was the cause of his preoccupation. “I’m going out tomorrow evening with a friend. Could we arrange the walk-through schedule so that I take the midnight and four o’clock slots?”
“Big night out?”
“Girls’ night. I’m meeting up with someone I knew at Sweet Grass.
” She refrained from mentioning the job reference Shay had told her about, which meant that a potential employer was taking her application seriously.
Or at least a little bit seriously. Until Trev’s brother returned, he was counting on her and she didn’t want to add to his worries.
What with a stubborn uncle and fifty cows yet to calve …
She felt like smacking her forehead. Of course he had reason to be distracted.
“If I get another job, I won’t leave you hanging.”
If Trev was surprised at the off-topic announcement, he gave no sign. “You’ll do what you have to do.”
Maclyn brushed the hair out of her eyes as she studied the angles of his face. “Not if it leaves the ranch in the lurch. You saved my ass. I won’t do that.”
His expression shifted, softened, but when he spoke it wasn’t about her leaving. “I need to get back to work. I finished servicing the New Holland tractor, so you can use that to clean the corrals. Try not to knock anything over, okay?”
Mac pushed his shoulder, and he stumbled sideways before grabbing her hand.
“Careful,” he said, tightening his hold on her fingers. “I don’t want to suffer an industrial accident.”
“I’ve yet to hit anything with that damned tractor bucket.”
He bowed his head in acknowledgment. “True. For now.”
“You’re getting close to having that industrial accident,” she warned. His hold on her fingers loosened, but she tightened her own grip. She wasn’t ready to let go; they had things to settle. And she liked the feel of his warm callused hand in hers.
But before she could speak, he said, “If you get a job offer, you need to take it.”
That was true. She did.
“We got along before you got here,” he reminded her.
“I don’t know how,” she replied with a dismissive sniff.
A slow, sexy smile followed her words. He gave her hand a tug and she stepped forward so that they were chest to chest.
“How are you feeling about that power dynamic?” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her mouth in a way that made her knees go a little wobbly. “Being on the clock and all.”
She feigned punching a time clock. “I’m on break.”
“In that case …” He put a hand on the small of her back, pressing her against him.
The sound of footsteps on gravel brought their heads around, and by the time Wade opened the door at the opposite end of the barn, they were separated by a good three feet of straw-covered dirt.
“How’s the cow?” Wade asked as soon as he closed the door. He started toward them, his painful gait making Mac grimace inwardly.
“Milk fever. Responding well,” Trev said.
“Milk fever? In a beef cow? You sure this guy knew what he was doing?”
“She responded to the calcium shot, so yeah. I think so.”
“Huh.” When Wade reached the pen, he leaned on the rails, watching the cow who watched him back.
Mac gave Trev a sideways look and pointed at the door, indicating she was going to work. He nodded, his lips curving ever so slightly as he said in a low voice, “Let me know if you need help putting the windbreak back up.”
Mac made a sour face at him, her expression shifting to neutral when Wade gave the two of them a frowning look.
“I’ll check in when I’m done,” she said. “Until then …” She lifted her hand in a mock salute then turned and headed for the door.
*
Shay Crawford waved Maclyn to the table she’d staked out near the back wall of Grey’s Saloon. “Glad you could make it.”
She beamed at Maclyn like she was an old friend, tucking her straight blond hair behind one ear.
They’d worked together for three years, but hadn’t really interacted, except at the barbecues the Benningtons threw for departing guests.
So why hadn’t they interacted more, both being year-round employees of the guest ranch?
Because the Benningtons kept their employees both separated and busy.
There were outside people, inside people, and little opportunity to mingle.
Robyn and Julian were snobs, and they liked the class system they’d set up.
The big question had always been which group was superior to the other? Both felt they had the edge.
Mac smiled as she pulled out a chair. “Thanks for the invite and thanks again for sending me to Lanes Feed and Supply.”
“Glad that worked out.” Shay’s eyes crinkled at the corner. “Just not in the way I expected. I ordered a pitcher. Hope that’s okay.”
“Works for me.” Maclyn took a moment to look around the saloon. She’d only been there a handful of times, but the sheer age of the building always impressed her. Being a Wednesday, the place wasn’t exactly rocking, but most of the tables and barstools were occupied.
“They do have bar food. They’ll microwave anything on this menu. I ordered the mozzarella sticks for a start.”
Mac read the choices, and her stomach growled. Microwaved mozzarella sticks sounded wonderful. “I’m good with that.” She put the card back with the list of draft beers and folded her hands on the scarred table. “Have they replaced me yet?”
“They can’t find anyone up to standards.” Shay leaned back in her chair, giving Maclyn an it’s-their-own-fault look.
“They will when Western graduates its next Equine Studies class.”
“And that is a few months away. I like watching them squirm, to tell you the truth.”
“Why do you stay?”
“Why did you?”
Easy answer. “Wrangler jobs are not that common, and I loved the work. I didn’t get bothered much”—because the Benningtons knew nothing about horses—“so I had no complaints.”
The bartender raised a hand, and Shay pushed back her chair. “Order up.”
Mac followed Shay to the bar to carry the glasses back to the table while Shay managed the pitcher and plate of food. After they’d settled and the beer was poured, Shay gave Mac a conspiratorial look. “You asked why I stay? It’s because I’m family.”
Maclyn felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. Had she insulted the woman while thinking they were on the same page? This was why she rarely socialized anymore. She was too damned rusty.
“Shirt tail for sure, but Julian is afraid of his grandmother who likes me, so he leaves me alone. Another year or two and I’ll have enough saved to buy a little business, and I’ll be gone, but for now, I have room and board and simple tastes, so I can save money.”
“What kind of business?”
“I’m not sure. I’m doing market research. I was thinking a kitchen specialty store, maybe in Bozeman. Catering is a possibility. I have a couple of years to decide and I’m taking online business courses.”
“Meanwhile, I’m looking for a job shoveling you-know-what.”
Shay reached for a cheese stick, her eyes alight with amusement. “We all have our gifts.”