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“Just leave, Caleb. I don’t need—”
“Lennie?” My grandfather’s booming voice interrupts me. He’s close by. Meaning he already saw the strange truck outside.
“Shit,” I whisper under my breath. “What is it, Gramps?” I shout back.
“I wanted to see whether you—” The door to the feed room opens.
Gramps stops speaking the second he sees Caleb. We don’t have many visitors. Certainly none that are my age. And definitely none that are male.
“Who’s this?” Something in his expression tells me he already knows.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Matthews. I’m Caleb Winters.” Caleb steps forward and holds out a hand, which Gramps shakes.
“Caleb Winters, eh? I thought that was the name of the fella you’re always complaining about, Lennie.” Gramps has never been one for subtlety. He knows exactly who Caleb Winters is and exactly how I feel about him. He’s also a troublemaker.
“It is,” I reply bluntly as I start scooping.
“Lennon has a tendency to take everything I say the wrong way,” Caleb offers by way of explanation.
Although my back is to him, I can picture the charming grin I’m sure he’s giving Gramps.
Sure enough, Gramps chuckles. “He seems nice enough to me, darling.”
“Traitor,” I mutter under my breath.
“And how did my granddaughter manage to get you on our property at this ungodly hour?” Gramps asks Caleb.
I interject before Caleb has a chance to answer. “I asked him to pick me up before school to finish the interview for the paper. We didn’t get it all done last night.”
“Well, get out of here, then,” Gramps says. “I’ll finish up the chores.”
“I’ve barely started, Gramps. They all need to be turned out still.”
“I’ll manage.”
I raise both eyebrows. We both know he can’t. He hasn’t done anything more than some light lifting since his hip injury. He certainly hasn’t tried to lead any of the spirited stallions out to the west pasture. “No you won’t, Gramps. If I rush, I can get it all done.”
He heaves out a long sigh. “You worry too much, Lennie.”
“And you don’t worry enough,” I retort.
Gramps turns to Caleb, who’s been watching the two of us like a ping pong match. “Can I get you a coffee or anything, Caleb?”
“No, sir, I’m all set. Thank you.”
“No need for the formality. Just call me Earl,” my grandfather says before he hobbles out of the barn.
I sigh as he disappears. “There goes my last sympathetic audience.”
Caleb turns his gaze on me. “What?”
“I can’t complain to anyone at school about the shit you pull without them acting like I’m insane. Gramps was all I had. Now he’ll take your side too.” I let out another exasperated exhale, but it’s not as genuine as it once would have been.
Caleb surprises me by laughing. And it’s not brief or stiff or mocking, a sound I’ve heard many times before. It’s genuine. Warm. “Sorry to disappoint. With the exception of you, most people seem to like me, Matthews.”
I make a small sound of incredulity, although I know he’s right.
“So, what can I do to help?” Caleb asks.
