Page 13 of Chasing Home

“Two weeks max, one week minimum. Depends on current demand,” Rick says.

“If you want my advice, I say make it a week. Doesn’t matter where you have to go or who you have to sweet-talk to make it happen. If you want to keep your job here, you’ll keep it to a week.”

Even that is too long, but if that’s what we’ve got to settle with, then so be it.

Rick nods sharply. “Have you gotten a raise recently that I haven’t heard about around here?”

I lean back on my left foot, taking another look around the ranch. “Why are you asking?”

“Forget about it,” he says, brushing the comment off for one of two reasons. Either he meant it as a lowball dig and didn’t want to risk angering me, or he doesn’t want to compliment me by saying I deserved one.

There was no raise. I’m still just Johnny the common ranch hand, but I don’t offer him that information.

“Alright. Get started on returning that wood, and I’ll give Wade a call. I’d stay away from him for a while afterward if I were you,” I tell them.

Jimmy nods, his smile grateful. “You got it, John?—”

“What the fuck is that pile of shit doin’ in front of my stable?”

I flinch at the rough scolding, watching as Jimmy and Rick do the same. Poor Jimmy pales at the sight of a pissed-off Wade Steele storming our way.

The brutal rancher’s black cowboy boots crunch over the gravel road as he crosses it, his hands balled into fists at his side. His expression is shaded by the brim of his matching black hat, but I don’t need to see his face to know how spitting mad he is. I saw it coming from a mile away.

Rick, knowing his job’s on the line, is quick to shake off his fear and step forward, his mouth opening quicker than I can warn him to stay quiet.

“We’ve got it under control, Wade.”

I drop my head back, staring at the cloudless blue sky with a groan. The moment Wade reaches us, I feel the air shift, growing tight and tense.

“You’ve got it under control? Is that a fuckin’ joke? Do I look like a fuckin’ joke to you?” Wade shouts, voice thick with disdain.

I look at Rick, taking in his pale skin and wide, worried eyes. Usually, I would have offered him a sympathetic smile, but not right now. Not when Wade’s watching me now with a tired rage in his eyes that cuts me to the core.

I’ve known this man since I was a boy. Hell, most of everyone in Cherry Peak has known him for their entire lives. He’s a staple in the community despite his oftentimes brash attitude. Especially for a guy like me who found a home at his ranch. I annoyed the fuck out of the man until he agreed to take me on as a ranch hand when I was sixteen. Now, he can’t get rid of me.

I don’t think he wants to be rid of me either. At least not all the time.

My knowledge of him is why I know that Rick shouldn’t have said anything. He should have allowed me to speak for him.

I try now, hoping it might help smooth even a couple of Wade’s feathers. “I’ve already talked to them about it. Got them to fix the problem as fast as they can. It’ll be a week max before the siding can go up.”

Jimmy’s eyes dart to me, and I simply shake my head, giving him a look that tells him to get it done. Wade stares at me hard, and I smile back like a little shit until he seems annoyed enough by me to pin Rick beneath his stare instead.

“I’m not payin’ you what I am for fuck-ups, Rick. Order the proper shit, and then get this the fuck done before you’re out here workin’ in minus fifty-degree weather with snow up to your ass crack,” Wade snaps. “Or I’m kickin’ you off my land and bringin’ in someone else to do what you couldn’t.”

“Yeah, you got it,” Rick says, already setting his hat back onto his head and waving at his employees left standing around, pretending to be busy. His expression turns hard as stone as he barks at his guys. “Load these planks back into the truck and get them out of here.”

They all burst into movement. Jimmy ducks out of sight the first chance he gets. Rick follows quickly after, rushing into the centre of his grouped employees. Wade’s forced to suffer with just my company now.

“Up for a walk?” I ask, risking a pat to his shoulder.

His eyes tighten suspiciously at the corners. “I’m not goin’ to commit murder today, boy.”

“Hey, I never thought that. It was an honest mistake. Just really bad timing,” I tell him once we start walking away from the framed structure.

The massive expanse of Steele Ranch land is beautiful on a normal day. But during the peak of summer? It’s a marvel. All green fields, budding flowers, dirt paths, and noisy animals. Horses, cattle, chickens, and, as of a couple of weeks ago, a duo of rowdy donkeys.

“It’s more than shitty timing,” he grunts.

---