“No, not the food,” I say with a mouthful of biscuits and gravy. “The ranch. Your job.”
“I do,” he replies.
“What’s your favorite part?”
“All of it.”
I let out a breath. Okay, I get it. He doesn’t want to talk. Cool. “Do you practice being this grumpy, or does it come naturally to you?”
“I am not grumpy.”
I pop a piece of biscuit in my mouth. “Not acowboy, notgrumpy—I’m starting to think you haven’t met yourself.”
He ignores me, because of course he does. “Do you like Christmas?” The most bizarre question, but this will show me if he’s worth trying to form a friendship with or not.
“I do.”
“Would you scowl at Santa? Because I’m practically an elf but always in season.”
“If Santa was interrupting my breakfast after he woke me up earlier than normal two mornings in a row, then yes.”
“My bad! I will wear headphones tomorrow.” He’s a lost cause.
I continue eating in silence as he finishes his plate. “Have a good day,” he adds, walking back inside, and, in no time, the rumbling of the truck fills the space. He leaves the main cabin behind. I’ve never felt more drawn to figure someone out than now. Is he sad or angry? And, if so, at what? Introverts don’t initiate conversations, but they’re capable of following them. This guy is a no-go for them, so what is it?
Either way, I will figure it out. I’ve never met someone who doesn’t like me, and he won’t be the first, even if it means not blasting my music as soon as I wake up in the morning.
6BABYSITTER
Dom
I don’t needmuch sleep.
Years and years of climbing the financial and business ladder meant little sleep and lots of hustle, so I’m not new to getting a few hours of sleep. But out here, it’s often peaceful, idyllic.
Not last night. Nor the night before. In came the blonde I couldn’t look away from fast enough because she was young.
Beautiful, but young.
The same girl stranded on the side of the road, who didn’t hesitate to leap out when a stranger stopped, with zero care for safety too. I could have been an asshole and hurt her. I might be the first, but never the second.
My surprise when I found out she’s practically my boss was a much more pleasant one, because that’s a line I won’t cross.
I thought the first night was a fluke. The windows are thin in these old wooden houses, and the one next door was wide open, letting the breeze in, her music out to disturb the entire ecosystem. Twice in a row now doesn’t bode well for the future. But it’s notime to dwell on the past, even if it was just this morning, because out here, there’s no time to waste.
The sweat is already drying into a salty crust on my forehead, and the sun is still hanging too high for my liking, baking the dusty, dry corral. If this is only April, I can’t imagine what summer will be like. I started working here last summer, after my divorce was finalized, and I found myself at a crossroads.
Riverbank has a special place in my heart: almost a decade of carefree summers fun here invade my memories every time I think about the last time I was happy, or at least content. Nothing came to mind but this place, so I left it all behind and moved here when I saw the website had an open position for a ranch hand. Little pay, considering they already have one, but it came with training and learning, and the promise of one day taking over the position from the ranch’s oldest employee, Arnold.
So, I’ve been here, working my ass off and beingthatagain,content. But the feeling that hit me the minute I heard Riley’s voice had me feeling something I haven’t felt in years.
A spark.
One I need to deny but, like the asshole I am, I can’t seem to figure out how to keep her away without treating her like an ass. Maybe if I’m not friendly, she’ll stay away. Not only am I a whole lot older than her and a divorcée, but I also don’t want complications. I want to continue doing what I was hired to do.
My left knee is throbbing—a nice reminder of that fence post I hit back in March. The heat makes the air shimmer, and the cattle are acting lazy, which means they'll start running the second I turn my back from wrestling with a stubborn piece of barbed wire, trying to mend a break in the east fence line. My gloves are already torn.
I hear the low rumble of a truck before I see the dust cloud. Dammit. I hate when she shows up, mostly because it’s never for anything positive.
