AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Okay, just us three. Tonight as soon as dinner is over. It’ll take us about two hours or so to get to Watson City. Is that okay?”
“Yeah sure, it’s fine.” He slapped his palm over mine, pumped my hand once, then jogged off to his four-wheeler and rode off without a backward glance.
“Hey, everything okay?” Bishop called from the truck.
I slowly turned and flashed a bright smile. “Yep, everything is just fine. Let’s get you home so I can fret over you some more.”
* * *
Surferdude paleontologists can be really stubborn when they want to be.
As can ranchers and men in love.
It had taken me a good twenty minutes of arguing with Bishop as I got ready to go pick up Will and Perry to finally get him to see that he was not going. No way in hell. The man just had his head glued back together less than twenty-four hours ago.
“But this man might have my bones!” he said, again, for the tenth time.
“And if he does we’ll get them back,” I stated, again, for the tenth time. “You’re supposed to be resting. Also,” I jammed in as he opened his mouth to make a point, “Will said it could only be the three of us. If you’re there he may balk, and then we’ll lose this one possible lead.”
“I hate you.” He began sulking. It was rather adorable, but I didn’t mention that.
“No, you don’t,” I replied as I grabbed my keys and wallet.
“You’re right,” he huffed from his nest on the sofa. I’d made sure he had everything he needed for the night alone. Food, tea, blanket, pillows, Netflix password, cat between his legs, and a few Advil just in case. “Call me, okay? As soon as you leave this nefarious den of stolen antiquities.”
“For some reason, I doubt there will be many antiquities. Probably just lots of watches, tablets, and whatever else kids are stealing these days.” I took my hat from the side table and settled it on my head. “I promise I’ll call as soon as the meeting is over.”
His bottom lip was still dangling when I left, even after a tender goodbye kiss.
The ride to the bunkhouse was short. Not short enough given the sour looks both young men were wearing. Perry climbed in first, then Will, his long legs bent up so far his knees were close to his chin. Will nudged and prodded. Perry shoved. Will shoved back. And I spoke up.
“Okay, enough!” I barked and the foolishness ceased. “I don’t know what the real story is with you two, but it ends now. Will, you asked for Perry to come along so stop being an asshole about the room he takes up.” Perry’s eyes flew to Will, who decided to stare out the window on his right. “Perry, I expect better from the man who’s in charge of the bunkhouse. This will be a long ride and all our nerves are frayed. Stop acting like children.”
Spleen vented, I cranked up Gordon’s “Canadian Railroad Trilogy” as we pulled away from the long log building the hands called home.
The ride south was quiet save full albums from Gordon, Harry, and James Taylor. The youngsters packed into the cab mumbled a bit every time I ejected one CD and slid in another which made me chuckle internally. After about an hour of my music, they both shoved earbuds into their heads and rode along in silence, shooting each other sly glances.
I had my suspicions about the two of them but kept my thoughts to myself. I’d ask a few questions when the time was right.
When we pulled into the small town of Watson City a little after nine at night, I took note of the rundown appearances of the homes and storefronts. Sadly, it was pretty typical of farming communities across the country. Watson City had been built in a hurry back in the days of the Wyoming cattle boom of the late eighteen hundreds. Afterward, it had to find other means of survival and by the looks of it, the city was failing to cling to life. Also typical.
Young men and women did not flock to ranching and farming as they used to. When the young people left all that remained of a town were retirees and memories of how things used to be. Watson City was gasping for every breath.
“There’s a garage over there, behind the old video store,” Will announced, the first words he had spoken in over two hours. I turned down Harry and parked in front of a boarded-up Blockbuster. A hot wind blew down the street, kicking up papers and dirt. “Stay here.”
He slipped out of the truck like a wraith. I killed the engine then gave Perry a long, hard look.
“Care to tell me what exactly the story is with you two?” A couple of kids peddled past on bikes, calling out obscenities as they passed. A skinny dog ran after them.
“Nope.” Perry sat stiff as a new board, arms crossed over his chest, staring straight ahead.
“Well, whatever it is, I want it sorted out. I put you in charge of the hands to keep the peace in the bunkhouse. You’re usually so levelheaded about things and people. Is it because he has a record?”
“Nope.”
He rolled his lips over his teeth much like his grandfather did when he was having trouble keeping a dirty joke contained. I doubted Perry was biting back some raunchy pun or limerick.
“Okay, I get it. It’s personal. Just remember that a good foreman doesn’t allow his personal life to eke into his professional life.”
