Page 130 of Wrangled

I sipped my coffee before speaking. “So… you think you’ll stay at Salvation for a while?” I aimed the question at the assembled men.

Butch snorted. “Until he fires me.” He pointed at Robert, who laughed.

“Don’t go busting any more heads with pool cues, and I’ll think about it.”

“Seriously though…” Butch’s face grew solemn. “These guys are my family.” He stared at them. “Hey, you know you are. Some of you have been around a while—” He glanced at Paul, Zeeb, and Teague—“And some of you are new—” Another glance at Matt and Walt—“but of all the guys who work on the ranch? Yeah, you’re my family.”

Beside me, Zeeb sighed. “I’m not usually the kind of guy who gets sentimental, but yeah, Butch nailed it.”

Paul nodded. “A piece of my heart belongs here.”

Teague stared into the flames. “Salvation has been my home since I was sixteen. It’s also been my family—a far better family than the one I left behind in Wyoming.”

Zeeb peered at me. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

Butch cleared his throat. “I think what he’s asking is, if we’re gonna see you around here again.”

I glanced at Robert, and my heart skipped a beat. “I’m going to try to visit as often as I can.”

“Is it me, or has the Salvation family just grown?” Zeeb said with a chuckle.

I smiled. “I’d say yes.” I was still gazing at Robert.

Teague let out a snort. “Okay, I’ll say this if no one else will. You two—get a tent.” Everyone laughed.

Robert grinned. “You know what? That’s a damn good idea.” He got to his feet—then looked me in the eye. “You coming?”

And then it hit me. We were out in the open. No more hiding, no more pretense.

I beamed. “Yes, I am.”

He pulled me to my feet, and I grinned at the hands. “Night, boys. Don’t let the mosquitoes bite.”

As we strolled toward our tent, I caught Zeeb’s mutter.

“Damn, IknewI should’ve brought ear plugs.”

Thursday, June 23

Toby

Robert rode alongside me as we headed back to Salvation.

“It took us two days to reach the south pasture,” I remarked. The second group of cattle and riders had reached us late Wednesday. “Can the horses make it back in just one day?” It had to be more than thirty miles.

He chuckled. “A good trail horse in decent shape can manage fifty miles in a day.”

“Can’t believe this week has gone so fast.”

Robert lapsed into silence. Come to think of it, he’d been quiet all morning.

“What’s wrong?” Not that I didn’t have a good idea.

“We’ve got two nights left. And yeah, I know what you said, about coming back and all, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss you.”

“I know. I’ll miss you too.”

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