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Cowboy hats.I knew it. “They came together?”
“No, one was about ten, and the other right before I went to lunch.”
I frowned. “And you don’t know who they were at all? Did they talk to anyone?”
“Sorry, no idea. The first one was pretty tall, and I’d guess the second guy was about my height if that helps.”
“Better than nothing. Thanks, Tucker.”
I chewed the inside of my lip as I wandered back to the mechanic shop, re-reading that note. Which cowboy was I looking for? And why wouldn’t he sign his note, if he wanted me to respond somehow? There was a dot of ink there like he had almost put down his name and then changed his mind.
If it was the same person who’d dropped the poem in my pocket, he had to have been in the tavern the night I went out with Luke. I sifted through my memory, trying to recall the faces I’d seen there. I remembered a few. And surely, I’d run across this guy since that night, too—maybe he’d been trying to get my attention in other ways, and it hadn’t worked.
I slipped the note into my pocket and went back to work, my mind churning. That was one thing I liked about my job—I could work, and my thoughts could wander as far as they liked. But the more they wandered, the more they came back to the same place. And I had a pretty good idea of where I should start looking for my cowboy.
Dusty
“So, if you sell this bunch now…” I tapped on the spreadsheet program on Austen’s laptop. “At current market prices, you’ll recoup your increased repair costs, save hay through the winter, and have enough left over to buy a bunch of bred heifers to replenish your numbers by spring.”
Austen shook his head with a relieved smile. “The numbers work?”
“Sort of. You’ll still be down a couple of dozen head, but with your new bull and the fresh batch of breeding cows, you’ll be in business for real by next year.”
He stuck his hand out to shake mine. “Awesome. This is great news! I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. And Evan did agree to sell you some one-ton bales when you run low. I figure you’ll need some before spring.”
Austen nodded and blew out a sigh. “Dusty, I don’t know what I’d have done without your help. Everyone else I’ve talked to basically told me I’d figure things out, and then they just sat back to watch.”
I grinned as I packed up my phone and notebook. “The old guard. They don’t say much. I think they mostly figure it’s respect, letting a guy work it out on his own. Don’t take it personal.”
“Oh, I don’t, but still. You’ve saved me a pile of time and money, I’ll tell you.”
“Good. You can buy me dinner since I’ve probably missed it at home. I hope I have, anyway.”
Austen grabbed his coat. “What’s that?”
I made a face. “I think it’s Luke’s turn to cook tonight.”
He laughed. “The pub it is, then.”
We had mopped our plates clean and sat back, polishing off our drinks before heading home. I didn’t want to be out too late—after all, the morning feeding came early. But I enjoyed hanging out with Austen, and it was a nice change from being with just my brothers. Luke was horse shopping again and would probably want me to approve of another wild idea. Marshall could be smiling and chipper, or in a rotten mood, depending on how things were going today with his girlfriend. Dad was… Dad, and Evan didn’t really talk at all anymore.
Had any of them picked up theStockman’s Magazine? I’d left it on the end table by the couch. Probably not. I was starting to wonder if they’d ever notice unless I shoved it under their noses. My brothers weren’t exactly the type to read cowboy poetry.
I’d almost shown it to Austen. I was so over the moon that Jess wasn’t seeing Luke that I’d have shouted all my secret thoughts from the rooftops if anybody would have cared. Austen had a copy of this month’s issue on his dining room table when I got to his house, but… I don’t know why, the words stuck to the roof of my mouth like peanut butter. Then we were talking about livestock and business and it just never came back around to anything else.
Maybe it never would. Once I opened that door, there was no way to close it. How well would I have to know someone to feel comfortable opening up about my little hobby? And why was I so darned private about it? It wasn’t like I was doing something wrong, so why was I scared to show anyone? I didn’t have the answer to that.
“Well,” Austen said, in the tone of voice that usually precedes a farewell. “Probably should get moving.”
“Yup.” I swallowed the last of my glass and reached into my coat pocket for my keys. “I guess I’ll see you…”
He stiffened suddenly, his eyes on the door. “Hold that.”
“Hmm?” I turned around.
Jess was walking in.
