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Walt apparently wasn’t expecting his son to challenge him because he was silent for a moment. Finally, he spat on the ground. “You want to work here, fine. But if you stay here, that’s it. We’re done.”
Beside me, I heard a grunt of disapproval from Harrison, while Mercy muttered a few choice curses under his breath. Tyler glanced toward Boone. It was easy to read his expression—he was worried that Boone might have changed his mind about keeping him on in the face of Walt’s rage.
Boone nodded at him once, making it clear he would support any decision Tyler made.
Tyler’s chin wobbled, and his hands shook, but he stood tall and faced his father like the adult he was. “Then I guess we’re done. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, sir. I’m grateful.” He held out his hand for a shake.
Walt looked down at it and scoffed, rejecting his son’s offer of a somewhat peaceable ending. “This is exactly why you were never going to be the right man to take over the ranch. You have no loyalty whatsoever, no respect for your family name and everything that comes with it. For you to throw away your legacy by throwing in your lot with these… men… these… murderers… shows just what a coward you are. Thank you for making this decision even easier.”
He looked past his son’s shoulder to lock eyes with Boone. “You’ll regret this, Hammond. Don’t think for one minute you can murder my best breeding stock and get away with it. I’m coming for you, just you wait.”
Boone stood with his feet spread and his arms crossed. Anyone who didn’t know Boone would think he appeared impassive, even bored. But I’d been around him enough to recognize the tells that gave away his anger. A muscle ticked in his jaw, the skin around his eyes was tense, and his lips were thin. His entire body was coiled, ready to leap into action if need be.
Walt clearly expected a fight. It seemed to me he wanted one, but Boone refused to sink to his level. Instead, he said, “Well, it was nice seeing you as always, Walt. I wish you and yours my best. But if you’ll excuse us, we’d best get back to work. As you know, if it’s daylight, that means there’s work that needs doing on a ranch.” He gave a curt nod. “Good day.”
With that, he spun on his heel and started for the ranch house. His eyes cut to the group of us standing around Tyler. His expression made clear that the show was over and he expected us to get to work.
I glanced toward Walt, wondering if it was smart to walk away from him and his hands like that. But given the shade of red the other rancher’s cheeks had taken on, it was obvious that dismissing him so unceremoniously was the worst kind of insult Boone could give him. There was nothing Walt could do but signal to his men it was time to go.
Harrison clapped a hand on Tyler’s shoulder and steered him toward the calving barn. Mercy followed behind.
I wanted to go after Boone—to make sure he was okay, and ask him what the hell that had all been about, and tell him what a badass he’d been. But somehow, the closeness I’d felt with him out in the field these past couple of days seemed to be slipping away.
It was exactly as I’d feared: now we were back in the real world, where he was the boss and I was his employee. And as an employee, I had work to do, same as all the other ranch hands.
I cast one last look toward the ranch house, hoping to catch sight of Boone, but he was nowhere to be found. With a sigh, I made my way to the barn to untack and rub down the horses. Boone knew where to find me if he wanted me.
Meanwhile, like Boone said, I had work to do.
The day moved quickly, as most days did on the ranch. There was a shit ton of work to do, and I was surprised to have been upgraded from stall mucker to lawn mower. Supposedly, Tyler had taken over the mucking as the youngest and newest hand. Thankfully, the ranch owned a high-end riding mower. It took a little while to get the hang of it—a learning curve that included PeeWee’s repeated insistence that “city boys don’t know shit”—but once I did, it was pure heaven. I put in my earbuds, cranked up my latest music playlist, and mowed every blade of grass I could find that wasn’t fenced into a grazing pasture.
Being out of the saddle was a huge relief. Yes, I was getting more used to spending time on a horse, but that didn’t mean my inner thighs weren’t screaming in agony after several long days spent riding.
