Page 29 of Preacher

Preacher reached over and gave it a harder shake, testing it for himself. He grimaced when he saw how loose it really was. “I’d say that’s more than a little loose.”

“It’s gotten worse. Some of the horses, especially the new ones, get anxious when we first bring them in. They push and kick against the doors. I’ve already had two nearly work their way loose.”

“Yeah, I don’t think a simple tightening is gonna cut it. Could be dangerous if one of ‘em busts out.”

“So, they have to be replaced.”

“It would be the safest option.”

“Can you do it?”

“Absolutely.”

“Great.” I moved down the row to one of the older stalls, gesturing toward a cracked board along the lower half. “There’s more… This one’s splintering and it’s not going to take much for it to completely break.”

“I see that. Looks like someone did a real number on it.”

“Yeah, it took a few kicks from a nervous mare.”

Preacher crouched down and ran his hand along the break. “Where are your tools?”

“I have a screwdriver and a hammer out front. Might have some nails, too.”

“Gonna need more than just a hammer and a couple of nails for this.”

He pushed up to stand and reached into his pocket for his phone. He scrolled through his contacts, then brought his phone up to his ear. “I need you to get over to the Volkov place. Bring the tools and a couple of prospects.”

He paused for a moment, then nodded and said, “Yeah, and there’s some scrap lumber out back. Bring that, too.”

Preacher nodded, then chuckled, “Yeah, bring it all. We’ve got some work to do.”

He ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket. When he turned his attention back to me, I asked, “Prospects? You calling in all the reinforcements, huh?”

“You want it done right, don’t you?”

I had underestimated him, and clearly, that was something you didn’t do when it came to Preacher. I stood near the entrance of the barn and watched silently as he moved through each stall. He tested all the hinges and checked all the boards, knocking against the wood to check for weak spots. He wasn’t just glancing things over.

He was beingthorough and making a mental list of everything that needed to be fixed. He approached this whole work thing like it mattered to him, like it wasn’t just a favor or an obligation. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off him.

I told myself it was just my way of making sure he didn’t miss anything and that it had nothing to do with the way his broad shoulders flexed beneath his t-shirt as he moved.

He was still looking things over when a black SUV pulled up the drive. They parked down by the back entrance of the barn, and seconds later, a group of young men jumped out. They were all dressed in jeans and worn t-shirts, and they looked both eager and curious as they made their way over to their president.

Preacher barely had to say a word.

He gave a few short directions, and they all got to work.

There was no hesitation.

No questioning or complaints. They just did as they were told, and they did it without him yelling or making threats. They respected him. I could see it in the way they listened and kept full eye contact when he spoke. They gave each task their all, and they waited for his approval before moving on to the next.

I was in complete awe.

Not with just the boys, but with Preacher.

He didn’t just give orders. He worked right alongside them. He pulled off the broken boards, hammered in new ones, and tested all the hinges after they were replaced. He was precise, methodical, and strong.

He was a true leader, and damn if it wasn’t one of the most attractive things I’d ever seen.

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