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ChapterOne
“I wishyou’d take one of the boys with you.”
I glanced up from triple-checking my bags to give Nate a long, sour look. He never blinked. Guess my sour looks weren’t as jarring as they used to be. Fuck knows Will paid little heed to them anymore.
“We’ve been over this,” I replied as I shoved another pair of wool socks into my overstuffed duffel bag. “We don’t have enough hands to help here let alone taking one with me to Lone Vale.” I glanced at his arm resting in a sling. He grunted.
“I can do my job just fine with my left hand,” the foreman hit me with before I could even mention the separated shoulder he was recovering from. Good thing his boyfriend Bishop was in the hayloft—rumors abound about what they were doing up there—when Nate tumbled out of the hole in the floor to the hard as cement walkway of the stables.
“You can’t even feed yourself properly with your left hand,” I countered. I’d seen the latest soup fiasco. All I could say was God bless Bishop. The man was laid back and not easily riled. If not for him still being on winter break, Landon would have been called in to help. Being tended to by the owner of the ranch would have made Nate even crabbier if that was possible.
“I do fine. My point stands.”
I zipped my duffel. “Your point is moot and shit. It’s moot shit. All the able-bodied men on the ranch need to stay here. The horses need care, the cabins will need to be cleaned out, and the feedlot for the cattle needs to be ready for when we drive them in for calving next month.”
“Take your brother with you.”
Fuck, but the man was ornery. “No, I am not taking Will. Firstly, we’d come to blows within an hour. Secondly, he’s just settling into his cabin with Perry. Thirdly, I don’t want or need company. I’m a grown-ass man who is fully capable of feeding the herd and keeping the watering holes open for them to drink. I’ll be fine.”
“Take Perry then. Or Ron. Or Donnie,” he argued.
I had to smile. It was either that or slap the man, and I respected him too much to do that. Also, he could probably whip me pretty good, one-handed or not.
“Nate, I don’t need anyone. It’s fine. I have the skid steer out there, the long-range walkie-talkies, and enough food for six damn years. Truth be told, I could use the time alone.” I tossed my duffel bag beside my other bags of clothing and supplies. My tiny home was growing chilly as I’d let the fire go out in anticipation of my departure.
He pressed his lips together as he mulled over my reply. “I don’t like it, but I concede.”
Finally.“I’ll call every day, Dad.”
He frowned. “I’m not that old.” I cocked an eyebrow. He paused for a moment. “Okay, maybe I am but just. You contact us daily. And if something comes up that needs an extra hand, let us know. I can pitch in to—”
I cut him off before that thought could take root. “You can pitch your ass back to your place and have breakfast. I. Will. Be. Fine.”
His mouth was now a papercut. Which really only added to his mature good looks. Even when he was ugly, he was a good-looking cuss. He sighed in resignation and gave me a nod of his head. I shrugged into my favorite fleece-lined chore coat and then stepped into my high-vis yellow coveralls. Damn but Carhartt made fine, sturdy clothing. Tugging them up over my clothes, I then shoved my feet into thickly lined winter boots.
“We’ll have the hands out there at the end of January to help bring in the herd.”
“Sounds good,” I replied as I glanced out the window while Nate double-checked the woodstove and the spigots. “The water is off and the pipes are drained. You won’t have to worry about anything here.”
“I figured,” he replied and turned to escort me out into the first day of a brand new year.
The weather today was beautiful. Cold as a polar bear’s taint but clear and sunny. I’d have no trouble at all making it to the waystation that sat by the Jante River at the end of Blue Ice land. If one crossed the river—which was not recommended at this time of year or in spring when runoff made it a swollen, raging waterway of death—they’d be on Hollow Wind property. We did our best not to interact with the three McCrary brothers if at all possible. Because they were assholes. And racists. And sexists. And raging homophobes. Did I leave anything out? Oh yeah, they were assholes. There wasn’t a brother I didn’t want to punch in the face. Just for general principles. And the fact that they were elitist assholes.
It took only a short amount of time to load up the big sled that I would pull behind the refurbished snowmobile I’d been tinkering with for the past year. The old Arctic Cat ran like a dream now and with all the new snow, it was the most practical method of making the trek out to the Lone Vale cabin.
“Let us know when you arrive,” Nate said, worriedly stroking his black-and-silver beard as I tossed a leg over the Cat and settled down into the seat.
“I will. Stop fretting. I’ve done this before.” I pulled on some gloves and plunked my helmet down over my head.
“Yeah, I know, but this new year is starting off bad.”
I gave him a long look as I buckled my chin strap. “Technically, you did that last year. That’s what happens when you decide to celebrate New Year’s Eve in the hayloft.”
“You can officially fuck all the way off to Lone Vale now.” His retort lacked any real ire. “Let us know when you arrive. Keep an eye out for wolves. Snow deep like it is, they might be getting hungry and take a chance on easy pickings.”
“They’ll behave. They can probably find all kinds of sick and weak prey now. Stop trying to scare me with big bad wolf stories.”
Same could be said for mountain lions as well, but I wasn’t too concerned. I had a rifle and ammo and was a pretty good shot. Puma and wolves didn’t concern me nearly as much as stumbling into a Grizz with cubs. But they were thankfully hibernating at the moment, so I was feeling pretty carefree.
