Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 99583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Okay, so maybe I hadn’t known exactly who I’d been offering a job to and what that might mean, but I also didn’t really see why that mattered. There were more important issues at play. “His father kicked him out, Boone. The man dropped his kid off in town with nothing but a change of fucking clothes.”
Boone’s eyes bored into me as his jaw clenched. “That’s none of our business.”
“You clearly have no idea what it’s like to try and impress a father who doesn’t fucking care.”
Something flashed in his eyes. “You can’t just show up and act like this ranch belongs to you because it doesn’t. You don’t get to make decisions, Richard. I know you’re used to being in charge, but around here, you’re a cowhand. Barely even that. You shovel shit.”
I felt like I’d been slapped. What he said was true: I was just a cowhand. But I guess somehow over the past few days, I’d begun to think of myself as more than that. I was proud of the ranch and proud of the teeny tiny part I played in its success. I liked being part of the team—one of the guys—feeling like I belonged.
Except I didn’t belong. Clearly.
I might work hard, but that wasn’t enough.
I wasn’t enough.
The realization made me feel hollow inside. It was a familiar feeling, one that usually preceded me finding an excuse to jet off to some exotic location so I could lose myself to endless parties and casual sex.
But if I ran away this time, Oscar would win the bet, and I refused to let that happen.
“Message received. Anything else you need, boss?” I practically spit the last word.
Boone let out a bone-weary sigh and rubbed his fingers against his temples. The light streaming through the window cast his face in shadow, emphasizing the dark bruises under his eyes. His exhaustion was evident.
I crossed my arms to keep from reaching for him. Even now, part of me wanted so badly to put my arms around him and let him lean on me. For just a moment, to let someone else help carry the burden.
I was riding a roller coaster of want and hate with him. It made my stomach queasy and my head hurt. I wanted off this ride.
“I just need you to do your job and stop stirring shit up.”
I barked out a laugh and stood. “That’s funny. Because according to you, stirring up shit is exactly what you hired me to do.”
I was horrified to find myself close to tears. I hadn’t realized how much I’d started to care about this job, about this place, until that moment. I turned on my heel and got the hell out of there, barely stopping long enough to stomp back into my boots before throwing myself into the late-afternoon sun and striding toward the horse barn.
Surely there was some shit that needed moving.
9
BOONE
I stared at the empty doorway to my office. The faint scent of Richard’s expensive skin care products lingered in the air just long enough for me to take a single hungry inhale before it disappeared.
“Dammit,” I muttered, closing my eyes. I’d clearly handled that wrong.
Richard had obviously recognized a similar struggle between Ty Hosser and himself. Daddy issues—a topic I was also intimately familiar with.
I blew out a breath and stood up, running a hand through my hair and wondering how the hell I’d been saddled with a calving season full of drama. It was like living in a damned reality show.
Norma appeared in the empty doorway, a red-checked dish towel in her hands. “Did I see Tyler Hosser out there?”
I sighed and nodded. “He’s looking to hire on.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh shit.”
I let out a huff of laughter. “That about covers it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Hire him,” I said with a shrug. “He’s a seasoned hand who knows what he’s doing, and he’ll work extra hard since he obviously has something to prove.”
“But what about when his daddy finds out?”
“Walt kicked him out. Dropped him in town with nothing but a change of clothes. What am I supposed to do? Let the kid starve?”
Norma’s expression darkened. “That asshole. Why would he do that? Tyler’s a good kid. Hell, he’s a church youth mentor and an Eagle Scout. How is it possible that’s not good enough for Walt?”
“Who knows,” I said, shaking my head. “But you know what they say: the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Besides, maybe this will give me the chance to figure out where Walt’s head is at. I’ve heard rumors that he’s been in town again talking about how I stole the ranch from him, and he intends to get it back one way or another.”
Norma thought about that for a moment. “Should we be worried?”
It was a question I’d already been asking myself. “Nah. I don’t think so. Walt’s all bluster. He knows better than to try to come after me.”