Page 30 of Stay for Me

I’d only had one other friend in my life: Joseph Grayson.

We’d served together in the Marines, been through hell and back together. For the last few years, I didn’t have a cell phone, but we still communicated by mail. Every year, on the tenth of June, we’d write a letter to each other checking in, but I’d grown tired of waiting for his letters. He was buried deep in his company, Red Snake Investigations, but there were some days when the past would almost be too much, and I would need to hear from him.

Maybe it was time to change that.

The front door opened again, the howling wind outside compelling me to look up and find Jigs walking in, carrying a bunch of bags, snow on his hat and shoulders. “God damn fucking snow,” the old man muttered. “God put me in a damn state full of fucking snow, and my dumbass chose to stay.”

The twins chuckled, and I shook my head, used to the old cowboy’s bitching.

“What the hell, Pop?” Beau asked, getting up from his seat to help his father.

Jigs looked to the twins, jerking his head back, his mustache dusted with snowflakes. “There’s more in the back of the truck,” he snapped. “Get off your asses and help.”

The twins were on their feet, mumbling, “Yes, sir.”

I made a sound of approval, and the old man’s head snapped over to me, a smirk teasing his lips. “I like yelling at them,” he said once they were gone. “Makes me feel young again.”

“Used to like yelling at me too,” Beau muttered, digging through the grocery bags, searching for his fucking snacks.

“Yeah, I know, son. That was the point.”

A rough chuckle rumbled from somewhere deep in my chest, and Beau’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “So you’ll laugh at the shit Pop says, but not at my jokes.”

“Your jokes are shit,” I replied as I continued reading the last page of the chapter.

“What? No, they’re not!” he exclaimed, twisting his torso to glare at his father.

Jigs laughed then, the sound old and raspy. “Yes the hell they are. Even Denver told you so.”

Beau rolled his eyes and waved his father off, and it was the first time I’d seen a glimpse of his old self since Abbie left. It was comforting to know the old Beau was still in there somewhere. We’d just have to dig him out. “I figured he was just in a bad mood, and I didn’t take it seriously,” he explained simply.

“You probably should’ve,” Jigs replied, carrying two jugs of milk over to the fridge.

The twins came back in with a heap of bags, and as much as I enjoyed watching them lug heavy shit around, I closed the book and stood. My lower back screamed in pain, and I bit down, grinding my jaw. The pain would subside eventually. Hopefully.

“Jesus, Jigs. Did you buy the entire store?” one of the twins asked, breathless.

His question went unanswered. There were many things I liked and respected about the old cowboy, one of them being that he didn’t respond to stupidity.

“Look who finally got off his ass,” the second twin noted dryly as he plopped the bags down, his brown eyes on me. Beau’s hand shot out and slapped him on the backside of his head. “Hey! What the hell was that for?”

“For being a dumbass,” Beau answered, walking over to his bunk while pulling his thermal over his head.

“You’re going to have be more specific,” Lance sighed. “Lawson is a dumbass ninety-eight percent of the time.”

Lawson. That was his fucking name.

I grunted, unsure if I would remember that in the future. If they wanted me to remember their names, they were going to have to make a lasting impression, something beyond the usual stupidity they displayed.

Beau pulled a fresh shirt over his head and came up to me, his eyes guarded. “You doing alright?” he asked quietly.

He and I were the only ones who’d worked today. Kings didn’t want the twins getting lost and freezing to death before the holiday. After the new year, though, he might. So, I’d instructed them to stay near the barn and gave them a hefty chore list while Beau and I headed out. He checked on the fence line in pasture two and three while I monitored the herd in the main pasture, the harsh winter wind howling and beating against us. Managing a herd of that size on your own could be difficult, especially in the snow, and the twins weren’t ready for that yet. Honestly, it would be very easy for me to make them ready, but this morning, I wasn’t in the mood for their bullshit. They goofed around too much on work days, laughed too much, occupying every last one of my damn nerves.

“Better than I deserve,” I answered, tucking my book underneath my arm. Pain from an old, horrible injury flared in my shoulder then, stretching before crawling up my neck. I bit down, trying not to grind my teeth.

“The herd alright?” Beau pressed, his brows furrowed.

I nodded.

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