Page 7 of Buckled in Barbwire

“Uncle Jimmy is breathing down my neck,” I mutter.

My father’s posture goes rigid at the mention of his brother. He straightens off the fence post, turning slightly to meet my stare. “About what?”

“He wants to sit at the head of the table. Believes he’s more fit for the leadership role considering your current… lack of interest.” I won’t go into specifics about our most recent conversation, but it gave me an idea.

Which might pay off if the steely glint in my father’s gaze is any indication. “Don’t let that greedy bastard bully you. He should be grateful I let him run the auction barn. Maybe I’ll demote him to trailer sales. That’ll give him something to complain about.”

A dry chuckle escapes me. “I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Dad’s hand clenches into a fist as if he’s aiming for his brother’s inflated ego. “We’re mourning and he tries to take ownership of the whole company? Nope. But good on him for trying.”

“And this isn’t his first attempt to restructure,” I remind.

“That asshole better back off or we’ll remind him of his place.”

“How might we do that?” I’m practically salivating at the possibilities.

Dad goes quiet, his glare softening at the edges. “Just tell him to stay in his lane.”

“Call him yourself then, and pass along the message.” I brought up my uncle’s treachery in an attempt to light a fire under Dad’s ass. The momentary spark is already dwindling, but it’s not snuffed yet.

At least until the fight bleeds from him and he slumps against the fence again. “Nah, Jimmy’s a little shit, but he’s right about me. I’m not in a state to be calling the shots. My mind isn’t sound.”

I appraise Dad’s disheveled appearance from under the straw brim of my cowboy hat. This man lost the better half of his soul. There’s no real recovery after such a devastatinghit. That doesn’t mean I’ll quit trying to drag him out of the fog.

“But you can’t let him keep pushing us like this,” I urge.

“No,youcan’t.” He tosses me an empty look that squeezes my lungs. “That’s why I’ve put you in charge, Brody.”

I scoff. “Just until you get back on your feet.”

Dad waves at the summer air. “Consider the promotion permanent.”

My brows fling to the clouds. “Are you going to make an official announcement?”

“When you’re ready,” he evades. “It’s just a title. You’re already the boss where it counts.”

“Depends who you ask.” A certain pain in my ass would disagree. Uncle Jimmy’s nose is shoved so far into my business that he might as well be giving me a prostate exam. If he’s not careful, I’ll let one rip and forever taint his sense of smell.

Dad’s vacant stare roams over me like icy fingers probing at personal territory. “Am I putting too much pressure on you?”

“No.”

His haunted focus doesn’t relent. “Would it be easier to share more of the responsibilities with your uncle?”

Frustration bubbles to the surface and I swallow a bellow. I’ve poured myself into this job. Our legacy. The nonstop demands keep me occupied, not allowing me to dwell on pain and sorrow. Business is easier to manage than emotions.

“I’ve got us covered, Dad. You can count on me.”

“That’s my boy. You’re the one meant to continue our success. Don’t let anyone assume otherwise.”

“I won’t.” My spine straightens into a titanium rod. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Other than miss my wife with every beat of my broken heart. I can mourn her in peace knowing you’re at the helm of our company,” he mumbles.

Air whistles between my teeth from that sucker punch. “Fuck.”

“Make me proud. For your mom’s sake.” Dad grips my shoulder, stronger than I would’ve given him credit for. “And if you don’t mind, I’d like to be left alone now.”

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