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ChapterSix
Never hasthe flush of a toilet ever sounded so good.
Or the blast of hot water pounding down on my tight shoulders.
And let’s not forget the joy of internet service even if it was sketchy at the moment.
I sure had missed sitting down to shit in a warm room. It had been so cold at the cabin there was no lingering around with a book on the crapper. You literally shit and got off the splintery pot as fast as you could.
I’d just toweled off from a long shower and was puttering around my place, the water and woodstove ready for me thanks to Nate, when someone began beating on my front door. The thunderous knocking cut through my current playlist and ruined a lovely song by Stevie Nicks from her solo album Bella Donna.
Opening the front door of my cabin, I found Nate on the stoop. I wasn’t the least bit surprised.
“Evening,” I said with a smile and waved him in. He blew into my small home like a snow squall, all blustery and cold but blowing himself out quickly. As he ran on at length about the McCrarys, me, Shepherd, and the years of bad blood between us and them, I made coffee and handed him a cookie from the care package that Roxie the cook had sent down to me from the big house. Bless her heart. I should ask her out sometime. She was a bit older than me, but still a fine-looking woman. If I wasn’t doing what I was doing with Shepherd McCrary, I’d for sure ask Roxie Baldwin. What exactly was it I was doing with Shep now, though? Fuck knows. “Did Shep get set up at the bunkhouse?”
“He’s in one of the guest cabins near Will and Perry,” Nate said as he shook the snow off his well-worn chore coat, then hung it on the hooks by the front door. He toed off his boots and tramped into the kitchen. I offered him another one of Roxie’s delicious raspberry jam drops. He shook his head. “He asked for private accommodations.”
“Ah.” I shoved another cookie into my mouth and chewed. “Sounds like a McCrary.”
Nate took the cup of coffee I poured for him. I turned back to the pot and poured myself a mug and offered up a small prayer that my foreman wasn’t going to grill me like a lake trout about—
“I need to know exactly what the fuck is going on here with you and Shepherd McCrary,” he said to the back of my head. I sighed and slowly spun around to face him. “And do not tell me that it’s nothing. I saw the looks you two were tossing at each other. It was a replay of dinner with Will and Perry only with two men who are old enough to fucking know better.”
“Firstly, Shep is about the same age as Perry and Will. He just seems older because he’s a well-educated, conceited bag of dicks.” Nate gave me a flat look. I sucked some jam out of my teeth. “Now I, on the other hand, should probably know better.”
“Are you two fucking?”
“Wow, you’re blunt. Getting testy with your boyfriend several hours away?”
His dark eyebrows dropped into a sharp V which was supposed to intimidate me but failed to do so.
“We’re not talking about Bishop and me. We’re talking about you and Shepherd.”
I dunked another cookie into my coffee. Roxie was one hell of a cook. I’d wolfed down sandwiches and chips she had sent and now would have this tin of cookies gone before bed. It had been a long, cold, incredibly stressful cattle drive.
“Shepherd and I are not fucking,” I told Nate with honesty. No dick had entered any ass, which was what I called fucking. Fingers and tongues in asses did not count as fucking that was listed as “Erotic Others” when pressed. Oral sex as well. Yes, I was dancing with semantics. So what? “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He lost a little steam when I called him on his lack of boundaries. “You’re right, it usually isn’t, but this isn’t a case of two young ranch hands falling in love or a hand pining for a cook or cleaning girl. This is my second giving doe eyes to the youngest McCrary, who, we have just discovered, is as queer as a coot. A fact that had I not heard it come from Shepherd’s mouth with my own ears, I would have never believed it.”
“World is full of unexpected shenanigans. Cookie?” I held out the small tin.
“No, stop with the cookies. I want to know what you know because if his brothers find out that Shep is here on our land, they’ll show up looking for him. We do not need a fucking range war breaking out over this.”
“I can’t tell you more than Shep did, Nate. Really there’s nothing more to add to it. What he told you was the truth. He showed up at the cabin half-dead and three quarters frozen. I nursed him back to health, took care of his horse, and offered him a safe place to get his shit together. That’s it.” He cocked an eyebrow. “That really was it. Any looks you thought you saw were just friendship. I got to know him better, and we struck up a friendship. We’re friends. Having a friendship. That’s it. Friends. Just friends.”
“Uh-huh. You do realize you just used the word friends about ten times in a single sentence?”
“So, it’s a good word that describes what Shepherd and I have. Did have. Did do. Still have. Not do really because you don’t do a friend.”
Well fuck.
Nate rolled his eyes. “Look, I know it’s none of my business what my hands do or who they do it with. That being said, Shepherd has just been through a really rough patch and his head probably isn’t on straight. Also, don’t open your mouth until I get through this.” I snapped my jaw shut. “Also, he comes with a lot of nasty baggage. The best thing for all of us will be to aide him the best we can to get his footing and then kindly drive him to where he can stir up his familial hornet’s nest, leaving us the hell out of it.”
“Agreed.”
Nate’s eyes flared. “Oh. Good. Good. Then we’re settled. Thanks for the coffee.” He took a swig and placed it on the counter. “See you in the morning.”
“Yep.” I tapped my brow with another cookie and watched Nate let himself out after dressing his feet and tugging his coat on rather gingerly. Everything Nate had said was right on the money. It would be better to simply act professionally where Shepherd was concerned. This meant as the second in charge around here, it was my professional duty to welcome the newest hand. I tossed the lid back on the round cookie tin that was covered with Christmas balls and snowmen, grabbed my coat, and jumped into my truck. She did not want to roll over but after a few kind words and a dire warning, the engine coughed and sputtered to life. Breath fogging in front of me, I shoved my hands between my thighs, shoulders tight to my ears, and sat there shivering until some heat began to eke out of the vents. I kept my music loud. If your eardrums were vibrating with songs from Boz Skaggs, you couldn’t dwell on if you were making a mistake or not.
