18. Dalton
Dalton
Imade Jake go on ahead of me to lunch. It wasn’t the most difficult thing I’d ever attempted, but it was hard. He didn’t want to go without me, and he was like an immovable mountain. He just about glared at me as I pointed in the direction of the dining hall.
“I’ll be two minutes, I promise,” I told him. “I just have to take care of something first. Please?”
That last word must have been enough, because he headed out, and I went in search of Jesse. It wasn’t hard to find him, since he was on his way to the dining hall himself. I stopped him by touching his arm.
“Help you?” he asked, looking down at me from his very tall height.
“It’s about Jake.”
“He okay?” Jesse’s voice darkened with worry.
“Well, no,” I said. “You’ve had him working around the clock for the past few days, and I think he needs a break.”
“Tell me about it,” Jesse said with some force. “I’ve been trying to get him to take an afternoon off, but he won’t.”
“You have?”
“Two nights dealing with the flood. More riding at all hours to deal with that mountain lion. Not to mention how hard he works every day to begin with.” Jesse peered at me. “If you can make him rest a bit, you’re more man than I.”
“I’ll make him.” I jerked my chin up. “The afternoon, you say.”
“The whole damn day. Tomorrow as well, if he’ll take it. Someone else can handle his evening chores.”
“I’ll make sure he takes it.”
I had visions of more walks along Snow Creek. Maybe another trip into town for some Dairy Queen, which he seemed to love.
Or, more sensibly, I could see that he got some rest, which he obviously needed.
Looking out for someone else was alien to me. In my family, it was everyone for themselves. I’d learned to be selfish with my energy, a sense of scarcity following me wherever I went. Now, I was learning something different.
I followed Jesse into the dining hall and spotted Jake in the buffet line. He didn’t notice me until I came up to him and tugged on his sleeve. His eyes were closed, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep right there.
“Hey, look,” I said. “Fried chicken. Biscuits and butter. Oh, honey butter, too. Macaroni salad.” I pointed. “And blueberry pie. Shall I get two slices for you?”
“Yes, please.” He looked at me with hooded eyes. Sleepy eyes, with a warmth behind the cut-glass colors that I could get used to. He rubbed his jaw, dark with beard growth, and bumped into me a little, as if to let me know he was right there. As if I could ever forget.
I ate quickly, then leaned on my elbow, watching him slowly devour everything on his tray, followed by the two slices of blueberry pie, licking his lips. That little half-smile of his showing up at long last.
“I got to get back to work,” he said sadly, as though he was apologizing for it. “But I’ll come by and get you later?”
“No.” Before he could react, I added, “You have the rest of the day off. Jesse’s orders. We’ll start by going back to your bunkhouse so you can get some shut-eye. Don’t.” I shook my finger at him. “Do not argue with me. It’s settled. You need sleep, and you’re going to get it.”
“Oh.”
That was the response I got: a little sound of shock that turned into a question that slid into gratitude. We bused our places, and then I pointed him to bunkhouse six.
Inside, I sat him on the bed so I could pull off his boots. His socks were gray and damp, and disgusting. He needed new ones.
I made a mental note and finished undressing him, putting his filthy clothes in a pile on the floor. Then I stripped myself, and together we tumbled into the bed.
I pulled the sheet over us and snuggled into the curve of his body, my head on his shoulder. I wrapped his arm around me and took a deep breath.
The whole while he didn’t say a word. Just did as my hands directed him.
“Ten minutes,” he said. “Just that.”
“No,” I breathed against his neck. “An hour. Maybe two.”
This was not a man who could be made still, at least not easily. His life was movement. Work. Dirt on his hands. Those were good things, of course they were, but he was working himself to the bone. Someone had to stop him, at least for a little while. That someone was me.
“Relax,” I said. “I’ll keep watch while you sleep.”
Even if there was nothing to watch out for, no danger approaching, it was the right thing to say, for he finally let his eyes slide shut. For a brief time, I’d be taking care of him instead of the other way around. It made a nice balance and settled warmth inside my chest.
I dozed on and off, but it was only an hour before he was awake again, blinking at the ceiling of the bunkhouse. I was starfished over his body, my arm across his bare chest, legs tangled with his.
“Better?” I asked.
He looked at me as though nobody had ever asked him that question before.
He trailed his fingers along my arm, cupping my elbow, bringing it up so he could kiss the palm of my hand, a gesture we’d made, back and forth, between us, like a silent vow.
Though what that vow was, I didn’t rightly know.
Maybe if I paid close attention, I’d find out.
“I know you’re worried about the mountain lion,” I said. “But think of it. They’re probably taking him to the wilds of Utah as we speak.”
“Not that quick,” he said. “Tomorrow, probably. Mountain lions are awake at dawn and dusk. It’ll be dusk soon. They’ll probably pick him up midmorning tomorrow.”
The things I was learning from him amazed me.
I was just going to suggest that we could call the park rangers to find out when my phone rang. Thinking it was Lucas checking up on me or Jesse wanting Jake for something, I answered it.
That was a mistake, and I realized it the second I heard the voice at the other end. It was Cadmar, and he was already talking before I’d said hello.
“What’s the problem?” I squinted and covered my other ear so I could focus. To figure out what he wanted this time. “Say again?”
“Like I said, if you’d been paying attention,” Cadmar said, his voice nasal and annoying, “the tax papers arrived for the Scottsbluff property, and you need to deal with them.”
“Are you back from Hawaii?” I’d not paid attention to their schedule, so I really had no idea.
“Yes, and if you’d been here house-sitting, the papers would already be in your hands.”
He was only irritated because he’d had to pay a house sitter, instead of getting me for free, but he wouldn’t want to hear that. “How do you know I need to deal with something?” I asked. “Did you open the envelope?”
“Of course I opened it. It was addressed to you, but it came to my house, so—”
I heard him handling the sheets of paper.
Since I inherited the twenty acres in Nebraska last December, of course the taxes on it would come to me. I’d probably be able to pay out of the five thousand I inherited, but this reminder of being so unimportant to my parents made me close my eyes.
Jake was right there, naked at my side as I sat on the edge of the bed with only a sheet draped over me. I opened my eyes again.
Jake could probably just about hear Cadmar, so I turned the speaker on but didn’t tell my brother that I had.
“You owe taxes on the property.” Cadmar’s voice was clear in the bunkhouse. “There was an account Mom and Dad used to use to pay them, but that went to Ansley and me.”
Of course it had.
“How much?” I asked.
“Look,” Cadmar said, “we’re all about to go out, and I don’t have time to go over this. Can you just come by and get the papers?”
“Um,” I said.
The weight of my regular world landed on me like bricks sliding off a girder. That life had felt faraway almost from the moment I’d set foot on the ranch. And now it was all too real and urgent and just plain awful.
“I’m still at the ranch. The one Lucas now owns. I’m doing an audit for him.”
“For free, I bet,” Cadmar said. “What a waste of time. If he’s stupid enough to give up a lucrative career, that doesn’t mean you have to follow his example.”
“I didn’t give up my career,” I said, though why I was bothering to explain was beyond me. It never made any difference. “I’m on vacation.”
“You’ve been there a while,” he said, almost spitting the words. “Aren’t you out of PTO yet?”
Jake was looking at me, his eyebrows raised. His hand was on my thigh, stroking up and down. Raising the small hairs. Giving my cock something to think about.
My toes curled and uncurled as I struggled to find a way to end the call and get back to focusing on Jake.
“Can you forward the documents here?” I asked. “Or to my apartment?”
“You want me to stand in line at the post office?” Cadmar asked. “I’ve got better things to do.”
There was a whole host of things that Cadmar had been unwilling to do for me over the years, even though he and Ansley expected me to jump and fetch and carry for them.
It was too much to think about, and I pressed my fingers to my eyes and imagined that I wasn’t getting a headache, though I most surely was.
I looked down at Jake’s bare feet. He had big feet, white and pale from being in boots all the time.
There was hair, dark and straight and long, on his big toes.
They were adorable feet, and in that moment, all I wanted to do was buy him some new socks.
Surely that was more important than dealing with Cadmar.
Besides, I could go online and download the tax paperwork. That was how it was done these days.
“Can you tell me how much, at least?” I asked. “I can come by and get the papers when I get back to Denver.” Which was a lie. If I downloaded the information, I’d have what I needed. Not that I’d tell him that.
“It’s $2,033,” he said. “Guess you’ll have to stop buying your stupid iced lattes.”
“Guess so,” I said. Not agreeing. Just saying it so he’d shut the fuck up. “Listen, I’ve got to go. The hogs are getting out.” There were no hogs on Snow Creek Ranch, but Cadmar wouldn’t know that. I hung up, feeling rather bold.
“Your family’s a piece of work.” Jake looked at me with serious eyes. “That’s what Lucas told me.”
“He did?” I was surprised. Lucas usually played it close to the vest with information like that.