Page 44 of The Cowboy Who Worked Late

His mind buzzed with thoughts. She was hiring new people, creating new positions, and he wondered if he would be one ofthem. He wondered what the other men would say if they knew he’d been kissing her in the shade and then got promoted.

A sick feeling descended into his gut.Surely she won’t promote you if you don’t deserve it, he thought. He didn’t want to move up the ranks like that. He wanted to move up because Angel thought he was worthy of moving up, of being a captain. He didn’t want to do it because she liked him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Henry went to do his job. He helped Levi bring in the last horse for the day, and then he went and found Tesla to shoe. When he got back to the cabin, Levi had just opened the microwave to pull out some reheated meals.

“Your mom’s lasagna,” he called as the door closed behind Henry.

“Bless you,” Henry said. “I’m going to shower first.”

“Yep, I’ll heat it up for you while you get dressed.” Levi settled at the table with one bowl in front of him and one waiting on the counter to be heated up for Henry.

“Thanks, Levi,” he said, and he really meant it. He loved Levi and loved living with him, and he loved that they took care of each other. He wanted to tell Levi about the upcoming restructuring, but he knew he shouldn’t. So he kept his mouth shut. He showered, then ate, and then he pulled out his folder on 3D printing.

Levi settled in front of the TV, and Henry joined him, bringing his lap desk with him as he often did. If he didn’t have a project he was working on, he’d journal through his thoughts at night while they watched game shows and sitcoms.

Tonight, while Levi blurted out answers every now and then duringJeopardy, Henry went through his notes on 3D printing from college a few years ago. He never thought he’d use that education in industrial engineering as a farrier, but he’d been wrong. He had a few phone calls he needed to make, and he made notes of those. He wrote down the materials he wantedto ask about, and about the time Levi started yawning, Henry closed his folder.

“What you working on?” Levi asked.

“3D horseshoeing,” Henry said.

“3D what?” Levi asked.

Henry grinned at him. “Sorry, that came out wrong. I’m tired.”

“Yeah, you’ve had a busy few days.” Levi pinned him with his gaze. “How was going home? You never did say.”

“I said,” Henry said. “It was great. My mom took great care of us. We had a really relaxing weekend.”

“I’m glad,” Levi said. “It was a little wild Angel not doing roll call today, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed, because it was. “I’m glad she’s letting Trevor step up, though. He’s a good guy.”

“True,” Levi said. “He knows a lot about horses. Not much about farriers, though.”

“No,” Henry said. “But he’s right. And they want Lone Star to have a certain culture. He can definitely deliver that, so Angel doesn’t have to do it.”

“I liked that email he read.”

“Yeah,” Henry said with a laugh. “Because you took care of Central Park. So it was like a direct compliment just for you.”

Levi laughed and said, “So what? Everyone needs a direct compliment every now and then.”

Henry nodded, suddenly sober. “You’re so right about that, Levi. Everyonedoesneed a direct compliment about them, about what they’ve done, about who they are, every now and then.”

Henry wondered when the last time was that he’d paid a compliment like that to someone around him. He told Jake that he’d done a great job welcoming Gentry to the ranch, but was it a direct compliment about what the man could do and hisabilities, or was it just a good job? Henry wasn’t sure. He reached for the journal he kept underneath the coffee table and pulled it out.

“I’m going to bed,” Levi said.

“I’m right behind you,” Henry said. The TV switched off, and Levi padded down the hall, leaving Henry in the living room with the kitchen lights shining behind him. He quickly wrote down his ideas about compliments, and he made a list of all the people he saw on a daily basis.

He could definitely start to do more in building their morale and helping them know and understand that their contributions to Lone Star were seen, if not by Angel, Bard, and Trevor, then by him.

He snapped his journal closed and headed down the hall to his bedroom. Henry wasn’t the type to always kneel down at his bedside and pray. Most of the time, he was so tired he collapsed in bed, got his covers exactly how he wanted them, and then remembered that he needed to thank the Lord for the day he’d had.

So then he’d pray in bed, his eyes closed, his thoughts grateful, and he believed that God counted those prayers. But tonight, Henry stepped out of his usual routine.

He knelt down, folded his arms on his bed in front of him, and closed his eyes. This type of formal prayer wasn’t his favorite thing to do, and he had no idea what to even say. He’d had a pastor once who’d said, “God wants to be talked to right out loud,” and Henry hardly ever did that. Only over meals, probably.

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