Mutters and insults fall from her mouth as Micky rushes behind me, his footsteps heavy on the pier and beam floor.
When we reach his truck, I spin to lean back against the hood. “What’s the situation?”
“Should I be telling you this? It’s really Laiken’s…”
At my expression, he trails off his rebuttal and coughs again. “Okay, so the main pipes busted in the kitchen, which are directly connected on the other side of the wall to the bathroom and laundry. Long story short, the pipes are trash. Shouldn’t have passed inspection. She needs a full replumb.”
“Cost?” I question.
If I know Laiken, she’s clinging to pride.
“Seven grand.”
“Fuck.” I hiss. “When can you start?” I push off the hood.
“She said to give her six weeks to get the money.”
No wonder she took the job. She needs the money. For a moment, worry wedges its way inside my chest. That my work togain her trust may be harder than I thought when it comes to the redhead currently glaring at me from the kitchen window.
“Six weeks won’t cut it. Soonest you can start?” I press, pulling my phone from my pocket.
“I can have my guys out here Friday. But she—” he starts.
“Friday is good.” I press the phone to my ear. “And you can stop by Mayson Bank tomorrow morning. Phyllis will have a check for you.”
“A check?” He frowns.
“Yeah. She and Trace are not going six weeks without running water. I’ll pay the seven grand. Just fix it.”
He stares at me, stunned.
“Oh, and, Micky,” I call before I climb in the cab of my truck, “this stays between us.”
Then I slam the door and head toward the ranch.
This ranch has always felt like home. Even when I was with Mom on the coast. Something was always missing. It could be the ridges that go for miles. The sunset that reminds you just how small you are in the vastness of our world, or maybe it was the place whereshewas. Either way you look at it, no matter where I was in the world, my soul ached to be here. My boots on this Texas dirt.
“Parker!”
My name sails through the hustle of the barn as I turn the corner from the loft. Maddox is leading Tater Tot, Trace’s pony, down the alleyway.
“Hey, champ.” I reach out to ruffle Trace’s hair when he stops in front of me.
“Uncle Mads picked me up from school today.” He adjusts his worn cowboy hat. “And since I made an A+ on my spelling test, we get to do cowboy shit.”
I snort a laugh. “Your mama let you talk like that?”
He works his lip. “No, but he does.” He hikes a thumb at Maddox’s back.
“Don’t start throwing me under the bus,” Maddox scoffs. “Your mama scares me.”
Trace laughs as he nuzzles Tater Tot’s neck. “She isn’t scary. She’s the best mom ever.”
Damn. She really is. I can tell that just by the way he talks about her.
“You want to ride with us too?” Trace looks up at me, his freckles matching Laiken’s.
“I can’t ride, but is it okay if I watch?” I shove my hands into my jean pockets.
