Page 98 of The Cowboy Who Worked Late

Sitting in the hospital made the time go by astronomically slow. Henry leafed through the pictures of both properties. He could see why the first one hadn’t sold yet; it needed a lot of fixing up. He played all the games on his phone, answered all the texts coming in with questions about Grams, and he even read a little bit out of a farrier manual. Grams still hadn’t woken, and his shift still hadn’t ended.

I got everything taken care of with Creston, Levi texted.That man.

Henry snorted and chuckled, because at least he wasn’t the only person frustrated by the other farrier.Thank you, Henry said.I owe you big time.

Angel passed out new employee handbooks today, Levi said.

Henry’s fingers froze completely while his heartbeat continued at a faster pace.

Oh, yeah?he finally asked. He wasn’t sure if he needed to pretend like he didn’t know there was a new handbook or not.

Yep, Levi said.I got you one. Don’t worry.

Anything I need to know?he asked, his heartbeat thundering the way a wild herd of horses’ hooves did across dry ground. Had she stood up on the platform and told everyone at Lone Star about their relationship without him? Part of him hoped she had, and the other part really didn’t want her to carry that burden.

Nothing of note, Levi said.I put it in your bedroom. It’s sitting on your nightstand for when you get back.

Thanks, brother, Henry said, and he quickly tapped to call Angel. Her line rang and rang, and she finally picked up, saying, “Henry, hey,” in the labored voice.

“Can you talk for a minute?” he asked. He wasn’t sure why, but his tongue felt poisoned, and it turned numb as he waited for her to answer. He’d felt like this before—last year when he thought he hadn’t gotten an apprenticeship at Lone Star. He bit back on the words threatening to spew from his mouth. If she had time to talk, they’d talk, and if she didn’t…then Henry would pray for patience and figure out how to approach Angel when he didn’t feel like spitting nails.

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Can you give me five minutes?” Angel asked as she sprinted across the back deck toward her door. She didn’t want to tell Henry that she had to go to the bathroom, but she was in desperate need.

“Yes,” he clipped out, and Angel said, “Great, I’ll—” but then cut off as she heard the beep of him hanging up.

“Just great,” she muttered as she whipped open the door and ran through the kitchen. “He’s mad about something.”

And not just something. The fact that she’d handed out the employee handbooks without him.

Angel hadn’t been able to put it off for another day. She had them, and just because Henry had a family emergency didn’t mean everybody on the ranch did. She needed the teams and crews to function as teams and crews, and that included following the new guidelines and principles in the employee handbook.

So, she’d met with the master farriers and the foremen on Monday. Henry had left on Saturday before they’d had any time to make a plan at all for how they might announce their relationship.

It needed to be handed out, so she’d simply omitted the part where she and Henry were dating. When she told everyone from the platform that morning that they had new employee handbooks, she said their team leads or captains would be going over any changes and new procedures and rules they needed to know about, and she expected they would do that.

She took care of her business, thinking that someone had obviously told Henry about the new handbook, which didn’t surprise her. Angel knew Levi had been keeping Henry up-to-date with everything, just as Levi was supposed to. Angel wasn’t mad about that. She was mad that Henry thought she should handletheirbusiness byherself. She didn’t want to handle their relationship by herself. He was one half of it, and he should be here when they stood up in front of everyone and told them that they were dating.

She had half a mind not to call Henry back, but she wasn’t petty or immature. So, she sat down at her dining room table to enjoy a few extra moments of blessed air conditioning while she talked to her boyfriend. Since she didn’t think the conversation would be pleasant, she figured she didn’t need to bake while she did it.

“Hey,” she chirped happily when he picked up.

“If you’re busy, this can wait,” he said.

“I’m not busy,” she said. “I just needed to get in my house real quick.”

“All right,” he said, and then he sat there. Classic Henry move, trying to figure out what to say in the nicest way possible when what he wanted to say wasn’t all that nice.

“You’re mad about the handbook, aren’t you?” she asked.

“I’m not mad about the handbook itself,” he grumbled.

“You’re mad I didn’t tell everyoneby myselfthat we’re together. That’s what you’re mad about.”

Stony silence came through the line, and then he exhaled heavily. “I’m not mad at all.”

“Yeah, sure sounds like you’re not,” she said. “Sounds like you’re having a party there. Did your momma bring over cake?”

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