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Dad was still fast asleep. He didn’t usually wake up until around nine or nine thirty, especially with all the downstairs curtains drawn, which gave Josiah time to settle in before starting breakfast. It was a small grace that gave Michael about an hour of silence in the morning with the television off to drink coffee, have some toast, and get ready for a long day at Woods Ranch.
Long days that were less hot and sweaty as they inched deeper into autumn. Ranching still wasn’t his dream occupation, but he was starting to remember what he used to love about horseback riding and wide-open spaces. It made him wonder what better use he could get out of Dad’s vast acreage, other than places for snakes, mice, and other vermin to nest all year long in the tall grass.
Thoughts for another day.
Josiah pulled into the driveway at eight-nineteen, and Michael’s entire body jerked to attention. He shot a quick text to Brand that he might be a few minutes late getting to work while Josiah grabbed his own cloth bag and...limped? Yeah, he limped his way to the front porch, favoring his left leg a bit, but Michael didn’t see a cast or other obvious sign of injury.
“You okay?” Michael asked quietly as he opened the screen door for Josiah.
“Yeah, I’m so sorry I’m running behind. I had a hard time getting up this morning.” Josiah’s entire body seemed to stiffen as he entered the house, as if not wanting to show weakness in front of Michael. “I didn’t mean to make you late.”
“It’s okay. What happened? Did you hurt yourself?”
Josiah wobbled slightly, and Michael reached out to steady him. The immediate way Josiah flinched and took a step back raised Michael’s hackles.
“It was so stupid,” Josiah replied, his smile coming across less sheepish and more distressed. “I slipped in the bathroom last night and hit my ribs on the edge of the sink. Didn’t break anything but it hurt. I had a hard time sleeping.”
Alarm sent adrenaline through Michael’s entire body. “Shit, man, did you go to the hospital for X-rays or anything?”
“No, like I said, nothing was broken. Just some bruises and embarrassment.” Josiah wouldn’t look him in the eye, though, and that worried Michael on an instinctive level. “I really am okay.”
“Are you fine to deal with Dad today? Because I can call out if you can’t roll him over and shit. Stuff.”
“I’ll be fine, Michael. Promise. A couple more ibuprofen and I’ll be right as rainbows. Or rain, or whatever that expression is.”
“Okay.” He watched Josiah limp around the dark living room, uncertain about leaving when everything inside him wanted to stay. “Um, there’s some coffee still in the pot if you want it. A few sausages in the fridge for breakfast that I cooked up but didn’t eat. If Dad’s not too grumpy, you can probably crumble one into his scrambled eggs.”
Josiah’s smile almost convinced Michael that everything was, in fact, okay. Almost. “Thanks. I’m on top of it, I promise. If I have any issues, I will call you. I’ll never endanger my patients because of my pride.”
“Okay.” He glanced at Dad, who was still fast asleep. “See you around five thirty, Josiah.”
“You will.”
He still hated leaving, and Michael couldn’t explain to himself exactly why. But he did, climbing into his car with his lunch and disliking it the entire time as he drove away from the house. His mood must have been all over his face when he parked by the Woods barn and got out. Jackson and Hugo were standing outside chatting, and they both shut up to stare at him.
“You okay, bud?” Jackson asked.
“Huh?” Michael stared at the guy, suddenly aware he had his hat in his hand and his lunch was still on the front passenger seat. He reached inside for the paper bag he’d reused all week. “Yeah, just a weird morning. Sorry.”
“Everything okay with your father?”
“Sure, he’s fine.” With no way to explain the odd vibes he’d gotten from Josiah, Michael strode into the barn and the break room to put his lunch in the fridge. Unfortunately, he put his hat in the fridge and almost whacked himself upside the head with his lunch. Even worse, Jackson and Hugo both saw it happen.
“Michael, what’s going on?” Hugo asked. “Is this about the call you got last night? You know we’ll listen if you need to vent. Or if you need help.”
“I don’t need help.” Annoyed at himself, Michael shoved the paper bag into the fridge and put his hat on, even though he was indoors. “Sorry, just having a bad morning. I didn’t mean to bring it with me to work.”
“Hey, we all have bad days,” Jackson said. “If you tell anyone I said this I’ll deny it, but even I’m not perfect.”
Michael snorted. “I’m so far from perfect we’re on different planets. I’m so oblivious to real life sometimes that I couldn’t even tell when my ex-boyfriend was cheating on me again.” That had slipped out without permission, but he didn’t bother backpedaling. Neither Jackson nor Hugo looked scandalized or too surprised, and Michael wasn’t sure how to take that.
“Again? Is that recent?” Hugo asked. “Like this morning recent?”
“I found out a few weeks ago when he dumped me, moved out, and took our dog.”
Jackson made an angry, growly noise. As if sensing his owner’s distress, Dog loped into the room and bumped her head against Jackson’s thigh. Jackson squatted to hug his dog, and it made Michael’s heart ache for Rosco.
“I’m sorry that happened,” Hugo said. “Especially losing your dog. Doesn’t sound like the boyfriend was such a big loss, but I know how devastated Brand would have been this spring if Brutus hadn’t survived that animal attack. Our pets are our family as much as people are.”
