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The dogs got there first. One was brown with a bit of pit bull in it, and the other was Dog, the pretty mutt he’d met last night. She loped right up to him, barked once, and jumped up, paws slamming into his gut. She wasn’t a heavy dog, but Wyatt still stumbled backward a step, reaching to grab her shoulders and steady himself.
“Dog, get down.” Hugo grabbed her collar and pulled her off. “Geez, mutt. She doesn’t usually jump on strangers.” The pit bull sniffed at Wyatt’s boots. “And this one is Rosco. He’s Michael’s dog, and Dog is Jackson’s dog, and yes, her name is Dog. Don’t ask.”
He wasn’t about to ask but that was because Wyatt already knew. “Hello, pups.”
Rosco’s big eyes didn’t seem to trust him, but he didn’t bark or growl. Just wandered off and peed against the side of the barn.
“Hey, man, who’s this?” a deep voice asked. It belonged to one of the cowboys. Both had dismounted at this point, and it only took Wyatt a brief glance up to recognize the one on his right as Jackson from last night.
Shit.
“Guys, this here is Wyatt Gibson,” Hugo said. “Brand just hired him to fill in Alan’s spot. Sort of.”
“He’s sort of hired like I was sort of hired?” The stranger took several long strides forward, leading his horse, his features easier to see up close and with less sun glare. “Michael Pearce.”
“Nice to meet you,” Wyatt said automatically. “I’m here on a trial basis to see if I can cut it.”
“So, like I was sort of hired.” Michael chuckled. “First piece of advice is don’t look quite so intimidated or spooked, especially around the horses. They can sense fear same as other animals.”
Wyatt wasn’t spooked at all by the two hulking horses nearby but rather by the silent shadow behind Michael. “Good advice, thanks.” He placed the name Michael to the son of the guy he was originally supposed to rent a trailer from. But Michael apparently hadn’t told Brand about the fire, and Wyatt didn’t want to stick his foot in anything right off the bat, so he kept silent.
“The quiet one behind me is Jackson Sumner. He’s like one of those old mechanical toys. Usually, you gotta wind him up to make him talk to you.”
Hugo laughed.
Jackson grunted and stepped forward, his expression blank. “Nice to meet you,Wyatt.” Mercifully, that was all he said. Nothing about last night or the name lie Wyatt had told.
He tried to say thank you with his eyes as he shook both Michael’s and Jackson’s hands in turn. “It’s great to be here. It was kind of Brand to give me this chance.”
“Where is Brand, anyway?” Michael asked Hugo. “I need to talk to him about something when he’s got a minute.”
“If it’s the thing Josiah texted me about this morning,” Hugo said, “then he knows. He’s actually out chasing up another living arrangement for Wyatt.”
Michael grunted. “I’d tell you to stop texting my boyfriend but he needs more friends.”
Wyatt took in the light exchanges, the puzzle pieces starting to fall into place. He’d been confused earlier listening to Hugo and Brand use so many different names, but relationships made more sense as he got another face to add to the mix. Michael was handsome in an almost pretty-boy way that seemed less suited for a ranch and more for wining and dining folks in a big city. By contrast, Jackson was even more rugged and mysterious in his full cowboy getup, from the boots to the hat, and especially the way he seemed to be trying not to scowl at Wyatt.
That scowl was bizarrely sexy.
“What other arrangement?” Michael asked.
“No idea, he didn’t say,” Hugo replied. “Just asked Wyatt to hang out for an hour or two. He’s already had a tour, so I’ve been trying not to bore him too much while he waits. You two done riding for the day?”
“Yeah, we’re in for the afternoon.”
“Awesome.” Hugo flashed Wyatt a grin. “How about your first hands-on lesson in untacking and brushing down a horse? Jackson can show you how it’s done.”
“Uh...” Wyatt couldn’t think of a good way to get out of a lesson he desperately needed, and why try? Cozying up to Jackson for a little while? Getting hands-on with him? “Okay, sure. Lead the way, Jackson.”
Jackson did scowl this time. “Fine. Keep up, kid.” He turned and led his horse toward the barn entrance. Wyatt took half a second to admire his departing backside, then hustled after him. His afternoon was about to get more interesting than he’d anticipated.
Chapter Four
“Down this way,Wyatt.” Jackson was going to give himself away if he didn’t stop stressing “Wilson’s” real name, but he despised being lied to. He’d gotten a belly full of it from his adoptive parents, even more in prison, and enough from Cyrus to last him a fucking lifetime. Right now wasn’t the time to lose his temper, though; he had a horse to take care of around a greenhorn, and the last thing he wanted to do was spook Juno.
Jackson led his horse down the wide aisle between stalls to the tacking area and looped Juno’s reins around the rail. Wyatt followed at a respectable distance, hands folded behind his back like a student waiting to be scolded, and Jackson wanted to do more than scold him for lying. He wanted to bend Wyatt over his knee and spank the kid’s ass bright red.
Not happening. Focus, idiot.
