Page 16 of What I Should Have Known

“Huh?” I muttered, sliding my gaze up his body. Trailing over his brawny neck and across features burdened by something I wasn’t privy to, I landed on deep-set green eyes full of a masculinity that rivaled even these cowboys around me.

A crooked smile lifted on Bernie’s lips, the dust and dirt that stained his pant legs settled in specks against the sweat on his skin. “I asked how you pick which cow gets to not endure the wrath of the emasculator.”

“Oh.” I shook my head and froze. Shit, I’d just stared. Absolutely, unabashedly stared at this man. “Uh, bloodlines. We’ve got the bulls we use to breed already, so right now, we don’t need another. Also, a cow is a female who’s had a baby.” Tearing my eyes away from him burned like duct tape ripping hair out of skin. I wasn’t even sure how much my explanation made sense because even at this moment, all words in my head had fled.

“Get out of here before your dad yells at me again,” Bernie said, a wink offered in my direction, then he turned around and walked to the next calf needing his attention. I chanced a glance back in his direction, tightening my hold on the leather rein in my palm. Emma would swoon when she returned from her work trip. Well, after she chewed his ass out about Arlington.

Laying the reins against my horse’s neck, I bumped my heels and rode in the opposite direction with the calf to return it to his mama. Two words he’d spoken back at the shelter rolled through my mind as thick and hot as the sweat dripping down my skin.

Buried him. What had Bernie meant by “buried him”?

The weight crashing around in the pit of my stomach plunked as heavily as the dread that came with every narrowed glance from Wyatt. Had he buried a buddy from the Navy? Was Bernie on the brink of taking his own life too? Or was I reading into those two words entirely wrong.

Coiling the rope back up into my hands, the calf released from the loop, I turned my horse back around to the herd. Over and over again, like a metronome, we worked through the herd until finally, every single head had been accounted for.

As if nothing had changed from my childhood, another year of branding had come and gone, except this time, there leaning against the railing with his eyes closed and head tipped back, waited a man who had stormed into my life.

Dismounting, my feet plopped down onto the dirt as the crowd slowly disappeared. Hands that worked here year-round headed back to their usual chores, the herd sorted, branded, and headed out to finish a few weeks on the final sprigs of spring pasture before we pushed them up the mountains for the summer. My spurs clinked behind me with every step as I led my chestnut horse over to Bernie.

I paused as my dad shuffled up next to him, his blue roan breathing heavily behind him. Bernie opened his eyes and glanced at my father. Not a word passed between them. Then, with a tip of his hat, my dad nodded once before walking off.

Such an odd interaction. A silent approval, but one that would’ve not happened had he been able to make out that the necklace dangling around Bernie’s neck were dog tags—the one perk to my father having poor eyesight. The endorsement probably wouldn’t have happened had he known that this grown-ass man went by the nickname Bernie. Which I needed to ask why, since Ben was so much easier and shorter for Benjamin than Bernie.

His lashes fluttered down over his eyes once more, and his face turned back to the sun up above. An unseen shadow hung around his shoulders despite the humorous tone he used. Something about him kept the rest of the hands away. Even my curious siblings hadn’t approached him; though,he wasn’t the only new guy to show up for this work today who would be gone tomorrow.

Swallowing stiffly, I cautiously resumed my approach. He didn’t glance my way or move from his position as I stopped beside him. The steady rise and fall of his chest remained in the exact rhythm as it had been, his sweat glistening in the sun.

I inhaled deeply, catching a hint of the sweet citrus scent of him mixing with the heavy smell of cattle and manure.

“You just gonna stand there gawking?” he suddenly asked, cracking his eyes open with a raised brow.

Heat rose in my cheeks. “You know what, I was gonna offer you a candy bar and a pair of clean clothes, but with that attitude.” I narrowed my gaze as he smiled.

“That’s all I get as payment…a candy bar?”

“That and a sore back. Though you’re not alone on that front. My back feels like a few disks have blown out, and I wasn’t the one bent over castrating all day.”

His eyes darkened and he pushed off the fence. “I’ll blow your back out for a Kit Kat any day, just say the word.”

My stomach flipped; a warm sensation roared hot, deep within my core.What was that?That wasn’t directed at me, it couldn’t be. He’s just suffering from heat stroke. I was happy with myself, but there was no way a man like him would say something like that to me and mean it inthatway.

Then it hit me, and I pulled my brows together. “Wait, why a Kit Kat?”

Bernie leaned away from me, his head tipping as confusion flashed across his face. “It’s my favorite…” His voice trailed off as he studied me; his eyes remained locked with mine. “You don’t—” He cut himself off with a shake of his head and inhaled deeply. “Never mind.”

“Never mind what?” I asked, giving him a gentle smile.

“Nothing, really.” Bernie brushed at some dirt on his shoulder. It smeared beneath his palm as the sweat turned it from dust to mud.

“I owe you your CAC, and I don’t think my brother will miss a pair of jeans and a T-shirt if you want to come with me. I just need to put away Ace here first,” I offered.

He lifted his chin at me and glanced over his shoulder at the main house. White paint peeled from the siding, the wrap-around porch weathered from years of blazing hot summers and ice-cold winters beating down upon it. The roof could use a few new shingles as well, but it was home.

“Definitely won’t pass up wearing something that doesn’t have shit on it,” he replied softly.

“We’ll have to be quiet, though. I may be a grown adult, but my parents don’t approve of having boys in my room,” I said.

He looked back at me, a smirk rising on his face. “Wouldn’t be the first bedroom I’ve snuck into.”

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