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“The pig fence needs to be fixed today. After the storm a couple of nights ago, I noticed it got bent to hell and back. Think you two can manage getting it done?”
“Your fancy business degree doesn’t make you my boss,” Diesel reminds him. Opening the fridge, he grabs two bottles of water, then tosses one to me.
“Yeah, we’ll go check it out after we feed the chickens,” I answer before Fisher can respond. “We have to be done by one thirty, though, to get on the road by two.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re bailing this weekend.” He grunts.
“Fuckin’ right. Bye!” Diesel walks toward the door that leads to the equipment barn with his arm extended, flipping the bird. They haven’t gotten along since Fisher stole his girlfriend Gretchen three years ago. Though they weren’t “official,” Fisher swept her off her feet. They’ve been together ever since, and she even moved to Sacramento to be with him and comes back to visit her family when Fisher works during the summers. It’s been tense, and I’m constantly playing referee.
“Radio if you need anything else,” I tell him before following Diesel out and shutting the door.
“I know he’s your cousin and all, but I hate his city boy I’m better than you attitude,” he says, jumping into the passenger seat of the side-by-side.
Taking the driver’s side, I crank the engine and give him a moment to calm down. “You hate him because he’s with Gretchen. Otherwise, he’s not that bad,” I tell him with a shrug, not wanting to take sides. What Fisher did wasn’t cool, but Diesel wasn’t exactly offering exclusivity either.
“Pfft,” he huffs in response. “He can have that two-timing witch.”
I smirk, knowing he doesn’t mean it. He liked her a lot, and they’d been on and off for six months before Fisher strolled into town. She was hoping for some kind of commitment from Diesel, and he stupidly didn’t offer it to her.
“We’re going to Vegas. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to find a rebound,” I remind him, taking off and driving us toward the chicken coops. Once we’re there, we collect the eggs, throw out feed, and place fresh hay on the ground and in the nesting boxes. Typically, one of my younger cousins would do this grunt work, but with less than a month of school left, they’re all staying up late to study for final exams. I think it’s just an excuse for them to get out of their morning chores. However, my sister, Rowan, who’s three years younger, is coming home next week from the University of Houston, where she’s finishing up her second year of undergrad studies in finance. When she comes home, she’ll be able to help with some ranch chores, but she’ll probably spend most of her time working at the family bar.
“I’ve had rebounds,” he states proudly. “But it always comes back to bite me in the ass. There aren’t enough options in this small town. And well, you keep telling me your sister is off-limits so…” He flashes a shit-eating smirk, purposely pushing my buttons.
“And I’ll tell you again…” I warn, narrowing my eyes at him. Rowan turns twenty soon, and I know she’s not innocent, but she’s my baby sister, and I don’t want Diesel’s lips or hands anywhere near her. He’s got a reputation when it comes to breaking hearts, and I don’t need to kick my best friend’s ass for hurting her because I will.
Once we’re done dealing with the chickens, we drive to the B&B and deliver the eggs. It’s a tradition to sit and eat before heading back out, but with our shortened day, we just grab a quick bite and refill our coffee. Before we make it out the door, my mom enters wearing scrubs, and she smiles at me.
“Hey, honey!”
“Hey, Ma. We’re just heading out so we can get done early today.” I wrap an arm around her, towering over her petite frame. She’s been a nurse for over twenty-five years and commutes to the hospital in San Angelo, where my uncle Evan and his wife, Emily, work as doctors. “You leaving for work soon, or did you just come off the night shift?”
“I’ll be heading in soon. Em and I are carpooling, but I wanted to say goodbye before you two kids left.” She squeezes Diesel’s cheek, which he hates but smiles through the pain. She’s referred to him as her “bonus son” for as long as we’ve been best friends.
“We’ll be back before ya know it, Ma,” I reassure her, so she releases her hold on me.
“You better behave yourselves. I mean it.” She jabs her finger in my shoulder.
“Yeah, Riley,” Diesel goads, stuffing his hands in his front pockets and leaning back on his heels.
“I was mostly referring to you,” Ma says pointedly.
