Chapter Twenty-nine #2
Jake decided to check the main area of the cattle barn, catching the metallic bang of tools coming from that direction, hoping Tanner would be there.
He followed the aisleway around the corner, the pitted, cracked cement wet from the humidity in the air today, and stuck his head through the door.
The big space was empty save for Rowan and Kevin, who were stringing out a faded red hose along the concrete, country music blaring from a dusty old radio in the corner, big push brooms leaning against a wall beside a stack of metal pen panels. Kevin saw Jake and waved.
“You seen Tanner?” Jake asked as he reached them. “I need to go over some accounting, but he’s vanished.”
“Haven’t seen ’im since this mornin’ when we went over the schedule,” Kevin said, and stopped feeding hose out from the roller. “Come to think it, he said he was headed to town, maybe?”
“His truck’s still here,” Jake replied. “I’ll check with Brady. Thanks, Kevin.”
Kevin nodded curtly, and he and Rowan went back to it. Jake had no idea what they were doing, but then, what did he know about cattle, really? All he knew about the cattle barn was that was where the calving happened in spring and the weaning tagging happened in early fall.
He should offer to help at some point and get an idea of what a day of work was really like here. He saw how tired everyone was every evening. Sometimes guilt snuck in, and he wondered if they thought he really was a pampered city slicker, only spending time in the kitchen and the office.
He squinted over at the machine shed as he exited the door of the barns and frowned, frustrated. Where was Tanner? He never took any truck but his own to go out and check other parts of the ranch, and as far as Jake knew, he wasn’t fond of riding the ATVs Rowan loved buzzing around on.
Brady’s truck was parked in front of the shop, indicating he was probably inside tinkering away on something. There was always some piece of machinery and equipment that needed fixing.
Jake’s boots crunched on the gravel as he made his way across the main farmyard, the stable down in front of the yard, the small forest that separated the cattle barn from the main house and lawn to his right.
The machine shed bordered the left side of the yard, and beyond that were fields and the foothills that rolled up to the mountains lurking in the distance.
He stopped, casting his eyes around him.
This was a beautiful place, and he absorbed that thought, maybe for the first time.
So much had happened since he’d arrived, he hadn’t really seen the place properly or appreciated the peacefulness of it.
Peace that in the beginning had been an irritant because it was too quiet, too slow, louder with the absence of the crush of people than the city ever was.
Now, he looked forward to the nights when the only sounds were the crickets in the bushes, the hoot of an owl, the nighttime breeze ruffling the big pines along the driveway.
Brady had his head stuck in the side of a big green hulk of a machine, Bach filling the space. It brought Jake up short. He hadn’t taken Brady for a classical music kind of guy, and another piece of the puzzle slotted into place.
If Brett wasn’t his brother’s dad, who the heck was?
He’d have to ask Liz if she had any ideas.
So far even Peony had been mum on the subject, not wanting to talk about it, simply shaking her head and stating Let’s let it settle a bit first when it had come up at dinner, much to Brady’s obvious relief. He didn’t want to talk about it either.
Jake looked over at the bench, a riot of wrenches and tools piled on top of one another, none of them hung back on the pegboard wall. A big rolling tool chest had half the drawers open, rags spilling out of one. Jake wondered how Brady could keep his office desk so neat but his shop so messy.
Brady was humming along to the music, random mutters punctuating the hums. He pulled a wrench from a side pocket and reached in, twisted something, muttered some more.
He grabbed for a rubber belt hanging off a lever on the machine, and after a few moments of grunting and a large thunk, a “Got you, fucker” echoed into the garage from the belly of the machine.
Brady hadn’t stepped back yet, and Jake hesitated, loathe to speak and startle him.
“Jake, stop lurking. Come hold this socket for me,” Brady called from inside the machine, without turning.
Jake stepped over to him and reached in where Brady was gesturing, Brady smirking at him. Jake shook his head, chuckling.
“Just hold that socket solid while I tighten it from this side.”
Brady slotted another wrench on the other side of the bolt and ratcheted it twice before he stepped back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, his hands covered in grease and black from the rubber belt.
“Thanks. Easier with an extra hand,” Brady said, his grin wide as he tossed the wrench in the general direction of the workbench.
“Anytime.”
Jake handed him the socket that had been attached to the bolt. Brady tossed it into a plastic clamshell toolbox, then pulled his phone from the back pocket of his overalls and turned the volume down on the speaker sitting above the garage door.
“What’s up?” he asked. “Come to learn how to fix a baler?”
“I’m looking for Tanner,” Jake said, shoving his much less work-worn hands into his pockets, conscious he knew nothing about what Brady, as the main mechanic for the ranch, actually did in here. As for what a baler did, which he guessed was the thing in front of them, Jake had no clue.
“I figured you were hidin’ from Liz. She’s in a foul mood this morning. She stormed over to the stable, and I haven’t seen her on a horse yet, which means she’s stewing on something. She won’t swing a leg over if she’s mad.”
That was a whole thing he didn’t want to get into with anyone else; it was personal. But, with that description, he was going to steer clear of her until she’d let go of some of that steam. He hadn’t handled this morning very well, so she had every right to be pissed at him.
“Well, maybe I should,” he replied with a grin, deflecting a possible needling by Brady. “That good, huh?”
Brady raised his eyebrows but didn’t respond, and reached for a grease-stained ball cap hanging on the end of the machine, pulling it into place. He looked at his phone and furrowed his brow.
“Tan didn’t check in with me for lunch. He’s not in town still?”
“Nope. Truck’s in the driveway. Would he go out on a horse?” Jake asked. “He was dead silent this morning coming through the kitchen, looked like he hadn’t slept. He was carrying a bag of some sort, took a Thermos but didn’t grab a coffee.”
“Doubtful, if there was work to be done,” Brady replied, and they both walked back out into the sun. Brady leaned on the side of his truck and looked out over the back into the yard, obviously thinking.
He tapped the side of his truck after a moment. “Well, I think we don’t have a choice but to poke the grumpy bear. See if Liz knows.”
Jake swallowed a groan and nodded. That was the last thing he wanted to do, but he followed his brother, hopeful it wouldn’t be too explosive. Maybe after he could pull her aside and talk to her.
He was still frustrated with her, but the more he thought about how he’d run out of her room this morning, the more he realized he had to tell her how he felt so she could let him down and make it easier for him to leave when it came time.
* * *
The brown paper cube burst open, spilling stall bedding everywhere in the hallway before Liz could catch it.
“Fuck,” she swore, and grabbed a fork to shove the resulting pile of loose woodchips into the stall she had been carrying it to.
One of the young boys who cleaned stalls hadn’t shown up today, but the work still needed to be done, so she was on shoveling duty.
Given how Jake had left this morning, it was fuel to the miserable mood she was brewing, and an excuse not to get on a horse when her patience was so thin it would do no good.
The last thing she needed was to lose her temper and mess up months of training.
So, as she worked, her mind took what had happened this morning and ran full tilt, analyzing his reaction to her reaction, playing it over and over, mad at herself. He’d shut down completely when she’d deflected his attempt to be sweet and loving.
He’d said the L word. Maybe not in the context of what her mother had meant, but it had spooked her, and her reaction had shoved him in the opposite direction of what she wanted.
He’d thrown a curveball at her, and she’d panicked.
After he left, she knew she’d fucked up, reacting how she had, wishing she wasn’t so messed up about letting someone into her heart again.
All the reasons she had misgivings pushed to the surface.
Trusting a man to mean what he said when it came to his heart.
Trusting that how she was with him would be enough.
Letting herself open up just to get hurt again because the big elephant in the room of Jake leaving when the ranch ownership was reverted still yawned in front of them.
Despite all that nonsense floating around in her brain, Liz knew she was falling for him.
She just didn’t know how to go about actually telling him she was feeling more for him than she’d expected, and it was scaring the fuck out of her.
And now? She’d likely given him the hint that it wasn’t possible.
She was stupid. So stupid.
Her eyes caught Jake and Brady walking down the aisle and she set the fork along the wall.
They met up in the middle and Jake looked away, his shoulders hunching, his hands in his jeans pockets.
Brady was watching both of them, eyebrows in his hairline.
Likely she’d get a question or two from him later. Brady never missed anything, damn it.
“You seen Tan?” Brady asked, breaking the awkwardness.
“Yeah, no. Haven’t seen him, but Trevor said he went out on Chip mid-morning. I assumed he wanted a day to clear his head, what with those test results coming in and everything.”
“Not like him to bugger off like that,” Brady replied quickly. “Jake’s a little worried.”
She knew the look on Brady’s face. He was worried, too, but trying not to show it. Tanner sulked, but it never impacted the ranch. If anything, it meant he doubled down and took on more of the daily work, running himself to exhaustion so he wouldn’t have to think.
Liz pulled her phone out of her back pocket and called Tanner. It went straight to voicemail. Frowning, she texted him.
“Well, I can go look for him, you’re both busy,” Jake offered.
“And you’ll get lost. I’ll come with you. We can take my truck,” Brady said, slapping Jake on the shoulder. “I’ll go get it, you and Liz iron out this shit, okay?”
Brady gestured between them as he backed up, then turned and strode out of the stable.
Liz closed her eyes and sighed, moving to lean against a stall wall.
Of course he would stir that up and skedaddle.
She opened her eyes and found Jake leaning against the opposite wall.
He looked up at her, his face unreadable, his arms crossed.
He looked pissed off.
There was no one else around them, so she stood up and crossed to him, and looked up. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said. His voice was tight.
“You’re still upset,” she said.
“A little worried about my brother,” he replied sharply.
“He’s a big boy, he’ll be fine. He makes good decisions,” she replied.
“We all are, Liz. But we’re always supposed to be fine, not make mistakes, not fuck it up, and that’s hard,” he growled, looking away from her, his jaw working.
It wasn’t about Tanner anymore. He was still mad about this morning, even if he couldn’t say it directly to her. She swallowed her pride and put a hand on his arm, making him look back at her.
“We don’t have time to really talk right now. But . . .” she said, unsure of what to say.
“I’m sorry about this morning,” he interrupted. “It won’t happen again.”
“Okay, then,” Liz responded, abandoning her original thought to invite him over tonight to get it all out. What was that all about? Apologizing for what? Staying over, or his about-face exit?
He sighed at her response and scrubbed a hand over his head.
He was weighing something in his mind, and it was heavy, so she waited, removing her hand from him, worried that was pissing him off more.
Was he going to tell her he had made a mistake?
That this thing between them wasn’t a good idea anymore?
Sure, he’d stayed the night, but that wasn’t that big a deal, was it?
She’d already decided it wasn’t, if they could figure whatever this was out.
“Okay, I’m just going to say it. I know you said you don’t want serious. Casual, right? No strings.”
He reached for her, turning her against the wall, leaning in over her, their hips touching.
A rumbling groan left his body as her hands flattened against his chest, and he closed his eyes for a moment, his jaw ticking.
She ached to reach up and smooth her palm over the tense muscles, to calm him, but she resisted because right now he was trying to get something out and it might derail his thoughts. Thoughts she wanted to hear.
He opened his eyes and emotion stared back at her. She held her breath, caught in the intensity.
“I can’t stop thinking about you . . . us. Thinking about how you make me feel when we’re together. Right from the start, I think I knew this couldn’t be casual, and I fucking tried. I can’t do it anymore. I’d be lying to both of us.”
She didn’t know what to say to that. He was telling her what, exactly? She said nothing as his eyes studied hers. He leaned in, lips hovering over hers, heat ratcheting up between them as her hands slid over his shoulders. He kissed her gently and then leaned back, eyes fixed on hers again.
“Liz. I’m f—”
A horn honked, Brady yelled, and Jake straightened, pushing away from her.
“Finish your sentence, Jake,” she said. He frowned, looking away from her.
“Later, once we find Tan. You and I will talk more then,” he said as Brady beeped again, hanging out the driver’s side window, looking down the aisle to where they stood. “This isn’t how I want—”
Liz nodded silently, sensing he was desperately trying to control himself in the moment.
Jake growled out a frustrated breath and then strode away, leaving her reeling, her hands braced behind her as she attempted to get her stupid heart to stop beating out of her chest. She took careful, deep breaths, the quiet in the stable yawning out after his heavy footsteps faded and the truck sprayed gravel as Brady peeled out toward the road.
“Well, shit.” She swore into the empty stable and picked up her fork to keep working. Her mother was right.
Burned. To a crisp.