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“Satan,” George replied flatly.
I could never tell if George was being sarcastic or serious, but I laughed, nonetheless.
“Look,” I said, pushing off the paddock. “I found someone to help with the EPA situation. She’s going to get here on Friday, and she’s bringing her kid with her. Is there anyone planning on staying in the old bunkhouse this summer?”
George shook his head, glancing in the direction of the bunkhouse in question, which was nothing more than a little cabin at the edge of the developed part of the property. It was simple, but cozy, and had been renovated along with the house.
“No, not until winter I reckon. Jordie and Ralph both have wives in town, you know. They have no use for the bunkhouse anymore, unless they’re hiding from their old ladies.”
I snorted with mirth, giving George a look that he returned with one of his own.
“And our football stars.” George sighed, motioning a hand to the two eighteen-year-old idiots who’d letSatanout of the paddock and into the pasture. “They go home to their mamas when I get sick of them being here.”
One of the boys was playing chicken with the stallion, and the two of us turned to watch him as he darted back over to the fence, getting his brand-new Wrangler jeans snagged on the wire as the horse barreled for him.
“I don’t tell you this enough, but I appreciate what you’re doing here, George.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I ask a lot of you, and I couldn’t have turned this place around without you.”
George’s mouth twitched into a brief but warm smile in response.
“It’s nothing. I watched this place fall to ruin over the years. I wasn’t going to just let some city-slicker walk in here and turn it into a bed and breakfast.”
“Is that really what you thought I was going to do?”
“Before I knew you, yeah.” He chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “Coming here in a suit and tie, no dust on your fancy black shoes. I’ll never forget it.”
“Don’t come crying to me when you need help with a computer, George.” I laughed, turning away from him as I walked toward the house. “Speaking of which, does the bunkhouse have any access to a router, or modem? I don’t think the Wi-Fi reaches that far.”
George pursed his lips, shaking his head and shrugging.
Damn, I’d probably have to share my office with this lady, too. Which meant her kid was probably going to be running around, tearing my house to shreds, or harassing the animals all day if I lethimoutside while she’s working.
Shit, well, maybe I didn’t think this through before settling on the first capable candidate who came my way.
I went back inside the house, pouring myself another cup of coffee before walking into the quiet living room, then the dining room, which had a huge custom-built table and eight chairs, only a few of which had ever been sat in. Upstairs, four of the five bedrooms were empty, and the sixth bedroom I’d turned into an office.
The back den on the lower level was totally bare. I wasn’t sure what to do with that space, even after years of renovations.
This was a family home, and I was a thirty-seven-year-old bachelor in early retirement, living out my childhood dreams of being a cowboy.
I had no idea what to do with a kid.
“Grant,” came George’s voice from the back deck off the kitchen. I blinked, wondering how long I’d been standing in the dining room clutching my now lukewarm cup of coffee and staring off into space.
“What’s up?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen.
George let out his breath, tilting his head toward the screen door and motioning for me to follow. I stepped out onto the back porch and stood at his side.
In the distance, the house, barns, and outer buildings fell away into vast, open grasslands. I could see for miles it seemed, nothing but open sky and rolling hills.
But I could see the greenbelt, and I could see the group of people milling about just outside the fence that separated my property from the state land beyond.
George handed me a pair of binoculars and I took them, giving myself a better view of the group of men walking along the fence, clipboards in their hands.
“EPA,” George snarled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Yep,” I replied, shaking my head. “What the hell are they trying to do, exactly?”
“My guess,” George replied, “is push back the fence, take away some of the acreage.”
