Chapter 1 Welcome to Blackthorn Ranch #2
There was obviously more.
David leaned against the truck.
"He had a rough year."
I stayed quiet.
Eventually David continued.
"Bad breakup."
Ah.
That explained a few things.
The lost expression.
The tired eyes.
The defeated posture.
Heartbreak could wreck a person if they let it.
Still, plenty of people got their hearts broken without crashing their entire lives.
"So now he's here."
"For the summer."
I looked at him.
"The entire summer?"
"Three months."
I laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was ridiculous.
Three months.
David was serious.
The kid wasn't visiting.
He was staying.
"You're asking a lot."
"I know."
"He's gonna hate it."
"Probably."
I glanced back toward Oliver.
The kid was studying the ranch house now.
Like he was trying to memorize everything.
Maybe preparing himself.
Maybe looking for the nearest escape route.
Either way, he seemed nervous.
I understood nervous.
New places could do that.
But ranch life wasn't going to slow down because someone's feelings got hurt.
"I'll give him work," I said.
"That's all I'm asking."
"And if he quits?"
David shrugged.
"Then he quits."
That answer surprised me.
Most relatives spent their time making excuses.
David sounded resigned.
Like he knew exactly how likely that outcome was.
I nodded once.
"Fine."
Relief immediately crossed his face.
"Thank you."
I grunted.
The conversation wasn't over, but it was close enough.
David walked back toward the truck.
Oliver straightened when he approached.
I watched them talk briefly.
The kid nodded several times.
Then David hugged him.
That surprised me too.
Oliver looked embarrassed by it.
David didn't seem to care.
A minute later he climbed back into the driver's seat.
The engine started.
Oliver stepped backward.
And then David drove away.
Just like that.
The kid stood alone in a cloud of dust.
Watching the truck disappear down the long road.
Something about the sight reminded me of a colt being separated from the herd for the first time.
Not helpless.
Just uncertain.
The moment lasted only a few seconds before Oliver turned around.
Unfortunately, he immediately spotted me watching.
Neither of us looked away.
The kid shifted his weight nervously.
I didn't.
Eventually I walked toward him.
His posture straightened.
Good.
At least he had enough sense to pay attention.
I stopped a few feet away.
Up close he looked even younger.
Twenty-one.
Hell.
I had boots older than him.
"You Oliver?"
"Yes, sir."
I almost winced.
Sir.
That wasn't happening.
"Don't call me sir."
A faint blush touched his cheeks.
"Sorry."
I nodded toward the ranch house.
"You'll be staying in the bunkhouse."
His eyes followed my gesture.
"Okay."
"Breakfast is at six."
His expression immediately changed.
I nearly smiled.
Nearly.
"Six in the morning?" he asked.
I stared at him.
"What other six is there?"
The kid pressed his lips together.
Apparently he'd just discovered ranches didn't operate on college schedules.
Good.
Reality was healthy.
"We start work after breakfast."
He nodded.
"Okay."
"Work hard."
Another nod.
"Okay."
"Listen when people talk."
Yet another nod.
"Okay."
I studied him.
"Do you know anything besides okay?"
For the first time, a flicker of amusement appeared in his eyes.
A small one.
But it was there.
"I guess I'll find out."
Interesting.
The kid had a little backbone after all.
Not much.
But some.
I pointed toward the truck.
"Unload your stuff."
He glanced at the truck bed.
Then at me.
Then back at the truck.
I could practically see the panic happening.
The luggage wasn't excessive.
Two suitcases.
Several boxes.
A backpack.
A duffel bag.
Normal amount of belongings.
Apparently not normal for him.
I turned and headed toward the barn.
He'd figure it out.
Or he wouldn't.
Either way, it wasn't my problem.
I spent the next twenty minutes checking inventory records and discussing feed deliveries with one of my foremen.
Eventually I stepped back outside.
The sight waiting for me nearly made me laugh.
Oliver was still unloading.
Slowly.
Painfully.
One suitcase at a time.
The kid had managed to drop a box.
Twice.
His backpack had somehow become tangled in the truck's tie-down straps.
One of the suitcases tipped over and spilled partially open into the dirt.
He looked horrified.
I leaned against a fence post and watched.
Not because I was cruel.
Because the situation was genuinely fascinating.
Watching Oliver Hayes handle luggage was like watching a newborn deer discover gravity.
The kid wrestled with another box.
Lost his grip.
Caught it awkwardly.
Nearly tripped over his own feet.
Recovered at the last second.
Then looked around to see if anyone had noticed.
I looked away before he caught me staring.
A few ranch hands walked past.
Their expressions suggested they were thinking exactly what I was.
City boy.
Every ranch got one eventually.
Some relative.
Some visitor.
Some kid looking for adventure.
Most didn't last.
The early mornings got them.
Or the heat.
Or the work.
Usually all three.
Oliver finally managed to carry another box toward the bunkhouse.
His shoulders were already slumping.
The summer hadn't even started yet.
I shook my head.
David meant well.
He always did.
But this wasn't a summer camp.
It wasn't therapy.
It wasn't a magical life-changing retreat.
It was a ranch.
A hard one.
The kid might have determination.
Maybe even courage.
But determination wasn't enough.
Not here.
As Oliver disappeared inside the bunkhouse with another load of belongings, I folded my arms and looked toward the fading horizon.
Maybe I'd be wrong.
Maybe he'd surprise me.
Maybe he'd last the entire summer.
But judging by what I'd seen so far, I wasn't betting money on it.
If someone asked me right then, I'd have given him five days.
A week if I felt generous.
Standing there beneath the Texas sun, watching the city boy struggle with his luggage, I made a private bet with myself.
Oliver Hayes wouldn't survive a week at Blackthorn Ranch.
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