AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Eleven
Spencer opened the door to the stable, his gut tight. He’d had a little heart-to-heart with Wayne, wherein he’d told the man that nowhere in the job description that had been posted did it say he’d be making cheese, ice cream, or milk deliveries. Wayne Cooper had agreed, and they’d chatted about what really needed to be done around the farm on both sides—the agricultural and animal side, and the milking operation.
They’d agreed that Spencer would work in both; Wayne did need another cowboy in the stables and fields, and he also needed someone to start learning what Clarissa did to run the shoppe. “Would that work for you?” he’d asked Spencer. “Part-time doing both? Then we can decide where to put you permanently if Rissa ends up leaving.”
Thatifhad kept Spencer awake most of last night after their chat. Or maybe starting at seven a.m. in the stables with a few cowboys he’d never met had done that.
“Mornin’,” someone drawled, and Spencer tore himself out of his thoughts. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the open end of the stable, where the equipment was neatly kept.
“Good morning,” Spencer said, putting a smile on his face. He’d started so many jobs over the years, and he could get along with anyone. “I’m Spencer Rust. You must be Gary.”
“Gary Boyle,” he drawled, shaking Spencer’s hand. He had bright blue eyes and plenty of curly hair coming out from underneath his cowboy hat. Spencer didn’t know how he handled all the itching from that hair, but he said nothing. “This here’s Chris Bargrove. He’s from Alabama, and he’s like our resident horse whisperer.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Spencer said, the name Chris tickling something in his memory. Something about him not wanting to work Sundays.
“You too.” Chris had a nice, firm handshake, and Spencer didn’t get any attitude from him. His hair was all buzzed up the sides and back like Spencer’s, and it looked brown to him. He had a warm pair of brown eyes that seemed to truly be pleased to meet Spencer. He didn’t need to be making judgments about men before he knew them, so he dismissed what Will and Wayne had said about him.
“And then Mack Parker. He manages all the fields. When they get planted, fertilized, watered, harvested, all of it.”
The third man tipped his white hat at Spencer, who did the same to him. He had dark hair and dark eyes, and that contrasted with the white.
“You’ll be with me today,” Gary said. “We’re doin’ stalls this mornin’. Then I check on the enclosures for the horses and dairy cows. We have equipment to fix, though there’s a whole crew for that, and property to keep up. There’s always something to do.” He gave Spencer a smile.
“I came from Hope Eternal,” Spencer said. “I know how true that is.”
“Oh, did you?” Mack asked. “My sister does riding lessons there. Noelle Parker.”
“Sure, I know Noelle,” Spencer said, his smile hitching in place now. He could never breathe a word to Mack that he’d once considered asking Noelle to dinner. Then he’d found out she had a boyfriend, and that had been that. Story of Spencer’s life, really.
“All right,” Gary drawled. “Gloves on the shelf there. We’ll open up the back part of the stable to let the babies out, and then we’ll get cleanin’.”
Spencer didn’t need gloves, because he’d brought his own. There was something about putting on a pair of gloves someone else had used, like wearing someone’s dirty socks, and it made his skin crawl. He picked up a pitchfork and a shovel, and he learned real quick that Gary called all horses “babies.”
His admiration and love for the animals came through just as fast, and Spencer could understand why. He loved watching a horse trot out of his or her stall first thing in the morning, almost like they’d been given wings and permission to fly.
With all the “babies” out in the pasture, the real work began. Spencer didn’t mind work. His arms and back knew the motions, and it wasn’t horribly physically exhausting. His mind had time to work, and that was the real problem.
Clarissa had disappeared from church about halfway through, and when Spencer had caught up with her in the afternoon to go riding, she’d said her friend from San Antonio had called. She wasn’t going to get the job at Overlook, and she might be delaying her departure from the farm.
He didn’t want to be happy about that, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t. Since his momma hadn’t raised a liar, he’d kept his thoughts to himself, where they’d swirled and swirled and kept him awake.
He’d crash tonight, that was for sure, as Gary set a blistering pace to get the stalls cleaned out and refilled with fresh straw and sawdust. Once that was done, Spencer felt sure it would be time for him to head over to the shoppe. But nope, the sun only hung about a quarter of the way through the sky, so though his stomach roared at him for something to eat, it wasn’t even lunchtime yet.
Gary offered him a granola bar from an assortment of boxes inside a cupboard in the barn, and Spencer took three of them. He also shoved a shiny silver package of Pop Tarts in his back pocket like it was his wallet.
“The dairy cows are huge,” Gary explained as they walked from the stables toward the milking operation on the east side of the farm. “They don’t know their own strength, and they can lean into a fence and knock it down.” He glanced at Spencer, who nodded. “Especially around an old farm like this.”
“How old?” Spencer asked, though Clarissa had told him Sweet Water Falls had been in her family for generations.
“Oh, a hundred and sixty years,” he said. “Give or take a decade.” He gave Spencer a rare smile and said, “There they are. We call ‘em black gold.”
“So horses are babies and dairy cows are black gold.”
Gary chuckled and said, “That’s about it. The milking operation is very profitable. Wayne and his sons run it with a tight fist, and they do a great job. Every cow is important.”
“And the agriculture side makes sure the black gold keeps producing.”
“That it does,” Gary said. “So both arms of the farm are important.”
