Lex never outright stated he’d sell the place off, but he hadn’t not said it either. It was the subtle talk in between that worried me—the offhanded comments about oil companies buying out ranchers around us and how much profit was made because of it. The wistfulness I’d hear in his voice when he talked about having free time to do whatever he pleased.
I’d have fought tooth and nail for it—for all of it—if I knew it’d make a difference. Uncle Joe had never had any kids. As he was the oldest of three brothers, the land would have passed down to my father had something happened to him. With my father gone, the next in line was Lex. Never in the history of my family had tradition been broken. And Lex wouldn’t walk away from owning it all. He was smarter than that. Even if his values didn’t run alongside mine, I could only hope he’d do the right thing and keep Owens’ Ranch in the Owens family.
“Cattle ranching ain’t near what it used to be. People losin’ their homes. Government stepping in and taking the land. Just yesterday some big-city lawyer stopped by, askin’ me did I want to sell him a hundred acres of my property so they can put one of them developments in,” Grant said, making my stomach twist with dread.
“I think he might have stopped by our place, too,” I replied, remembering the shiny black car sitting in front of Uncle Joe’s house.
“Everything’s changing, Owens. Not much we can do about it. Can’t stop it. Can’t fight it most times, but I’ll be damned if any of it will happen with my land so long as I’m still breathin’. Think my kids feel that way, too. If they don’t, they damn well better keep it to themselves, or I’ll be changin’ my will.” He snorted. “Rather leave it all to a damn circus monkey before I let some city slicker in on what’s mine.”
“Now that would be a sight. Maybe you can start raising some of those alpacas ahead of time,” I said, laughing when he shouldered me out of the way to finish stringing the barbwire on the post I’d set.
“You got one more down yonder needs replacin’. The rest of these will hold for a while,” he said, bending to his task.
I looked down the fence, not really able to see anything other than shadows.
“Who rides this fence line?” Grant asked.
“I do,” I answered.
Grant grunted as he pulled the wire tight. “And when’s the last time you checked this here fence?”
He knew the answer to that, because I’d waved at him from across the barbwire just two days ago.
He continued, “Wasn’t much wrong with this fence the other day, now was there?”
I thought about it for a second. There hadn’t been anything wrong with the fence. Nothing that stood out to me anyway. “What are you suggesting?”
“Not suggesting anything. Just curious as to why those heifers were moved into this pasture earlier than normal,” Grant answered, straightening up to look at me.
“You think I moved them on purpose?” My dander skyrocketed.
Lex and I had argued about moving the breeding heifers into the south pasture before Spitfire was moved over to where Grant kept his breeding heifers.
“You didn’t make that call, now did you?” Grant tipped his hat back, moonlight bathing his face as he squinted at me.
“No, I didn’t. You always keep Spitfire here this time of year. I know better.” I walked away from him, picking up another post.
“What if I told you I was the one who did it?” he asked, bringing me to a jolting stop.
“Take down the fence? You’d never do that,” I fired back.
“Who says?” He arched his eyebrow at me.
“I do, you old bastard. How many years have I tried talking you into crossbreeding our stock? And how many years have you told me to go piss up a rope?” Why was I so angry?
“Maybe I thought it was time,” he answered, moving past me as he walked the fence line and stopped in front of a post, wiggling it. “Damn shame Jave couldn’t get this one out. Might have gotten a few more heifers over on this side before I had to raise the alarm.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Why? Why would you do that?”
“Might be maybe I wanted to talk to you,” he said, his voice leaning heavy on the cryptic side.
“There are easier ways. You didn’t have to sabotage the fence,” I answered hotly.
“And have your brother asking why I wanted to meet up with you? No, this was the best way.” His face split into a wide grin.
We worked side by side to replace the other post, only talking to get the job finished. When we were done, Grant was on my side of the fence.
“Not gonna ask me what I wanted to talk to you about?” he inquired.
“Was waiting for you to spit it out.” I pushed my foot down on one piece of barbwire, lifting the one above it so he could slip through to his side.
He stalled me with a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, so hear me out.”
Grant quite literally poleaxed me in under fifteen minutes, using only his words.
My head reeled and my heart thundered in my chest. “Let me get this straight… you want me to come and work for you, but not just any job. You want me to come in as ranch foreman and be in charge of a new breeding program? Are you dying?” I asked, unable to keep that last part to myself.
He tipped his head back with a rolling laugh like thunder in the night air. “Jesus, boy. No, I’m not dying. I need someone with the same kinda heart as me. I can’t keep doing this forever, and you have the right ambitions. You could step into the job and not even blink. Besides, what the hell kinda work is there for you in Montana?”
“The honest kind,” I answered, struggling with what he’d said.
He turned when twin beams of headlights cut across the pasture, shining on us. “Think about it.”
“I’m leaving in two days. Why did you wait until now to ask me?” I couldn’t help but feel angry. Confused.
“Never thought you’d go through with it, I guess,” Grant answered, pausing briefly as I shoved my foot down on the barbwire. When he was on the other side of the fence, he continued, “Seems to me, you still have time to think it over before then. Hell, the job’s still yours even if you change your mind once you get there.”
He slammed the passenger door of the idling truck closed, giving me a tip of his hat before the driver took off, carrying him away.
Lucy jumped down from the bed of my truck, nosing my hand as I watched the taillights blur in the distance.
“Ready to go home?” I asked.
She yipped, turning in a full circle, and then bounded over to the truck where she waited patiently for me to collect my tools and load them.
Once behind the wheel, I groaned, relieved to be done for the night. Tension radiated across my shoulders and down my back so tight it twinged if I made any sudden moves. I’d gone from riding fence lines for longer hours than usual the last few days to ensure there was nothing wrong before I left, to replacing transmissions, and then to getting the old ranch tractor running. I’d been over, under, and around more of the land, and the machinery, than I had in what felt like years. The riding didn’t bother me. I loved being in the saddle. Being able to take Buxby out to check the boundaries and fences was peaceful for me. Like Grant said, some people have it in their blood. I was one of them.
But damn me if I didn’t feel every single overused muscle in my body. If I had one, it hurt. And with each rut my truck bounced over, it jostled my exhausted body even more.
Lucy had given up halfway back to Gracen’s, stretching out along the seat with a groan.
It wasn’t just from fixing a couple of fence posts either. It seemed like Lex had thrown every project he could at me over the last two weeks. The things that had been put off over the last year because there just wasn’t enough time, he’d up and decided needed to be completed before I left.
All were chores the ranch hand replacing me could have taken care of when he had time.
“I drove us the
re. The least you could do was drive us back home,” I said, reaching out to scratch between Lucy’s ears. Her tongue darted out against my wrist. “Like that, is it?”
She sighed heavily in reply.
“You have me on that one. You did good tonight, Lucy girl. Couldn’t have rounded ‘em up so fast without you, but we gotta work on your fence-repair skills. They’re severely lacking,” I added.
Gracen’s porch light was still on when we rolled up. Lucy jumped over me and out when I opened my door and Gracen stepped onto the porch.
Seeing her there in the glow of the porch light made my steps falter slightly.
When she bent to say hello to Lucy, it gave me more of a chance to watch her without having to mask the tenderness only Gracen could bring out in me. I could close my eyes and pretend—just for a moment—that this was my life. One where the yard I was crossing was mine, Gracen waiting for me at the door with a smile on her face that was more than just friendly, and one where she’d greet me with a kiss before pulling me into the home we shared.
Which is exactly why you need to move on and head to Montana, my voice of reason piped up, causing me to groan.
“You okay?” Gracen called out.
No. “I’m fine. Just been a long day,” I answered, making my way up the porch steps. When I brushed past her, my heart squeezed inside my chest like a vice.
“Here,” she said, nudging my arm with a cold can. “I finished your laundry and took it by your place.”
My eyebrows rose as a slug of cold beer slid down my throat.
“I figured it would take you a while to finish, and the last thing you’d want to do was wait for your clothes to wash and dry when you were done,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her with a shrug.
My phone rang before I could say thank you. It was Lex. Again. I bit back a groan as I answered the call.
“Fence fixed?” he asked, yawning briefly before adding, “Saw you pull in over at Gracen’s… wanted to remind you the new hand will be waiting for you at the barn at five-thirty in the morning.”
I pulled back the chair closest to me at the kitchen table and sat down heavily. “I have plans tomorrow.”
“Sorry, bro, need you to change them. Besides, it shouldn’t take you more than a few hours. Rest of the day is yours after that. Hell, the rest of your life is yours after that,” he said, barking a laugh into the phone. It infuriated me.
“He better not be late, or he’s on his own,” I snapped into the phone. After I hung it up, I turned it off before Lex could say anything else or call me back.
Gracen walked through the house, shutting off lights and straightening things up like she always did when she was ready to turn in. I watched her, not caring if she saw me or not.
At least I’d be finished showing the new guy around before we’d planned to head out to go fishing.
Damn, I really had been looking forward to sleeping in for the first time in forever.
“I’ll see ya tomorrow. Thanks for taking care of my laundry for me.” I sighed, pushing up from the chair and sliding it under the table.
“Night, Slade,” she answered, following me to the door and closing it behind me.
Chapter 5
Gracen
“Do you think I made the right choice?” Slade asked, reeling in his line.
My feet hung off the edge of the dock, and I dipped my toes into the cool water. Tiny ripples widened with each subtle move as I watched Slade’s line cut through the water.
“Not if you’re planning on catching a bigger fish. I told you to use—”
“I’m not using a damn hot dog,” he answered hotly.
“You got something against hot dogs?” I pelted him with a chunk of one. It bounced off his shoulder, landing with a neat splash over the side.
“Lips and assholes. You know that’s what those are made from, right? Besides, that’s not what I meant anyway,” he grumbled.
“If you’re not talking about bait… what are you talking about?” I asked, reeling my line in a little.
The Texas sun blazed down on us as he sighed. Putting his pole down beside him on the dock, he started to change out one lure for another.
“Grant offered me a job last night,” he said, head bent to his task.
“He did?” I couldn’t help the jolt of excitement that shot through me.
“Thing is… why did he wait so long? I mean, here I am ready to head out, and he sets something like that down in front of me out of the blue,” he answered, tying the line and standing up to cast.
I could tell it bothered him by the stiff way his arm shot out as the line sailed over the water. He braced his shoulders, making himself stand ramrod straight as if he had a steel rod bolting him to the warm wood under his feet.
“Are you thinking about it?” Please tell me you’re thinking about it!
His shoulders dropped and he turned to me, quiet but with a thoughtful look on his face. He opened his mouth to answer just as something tugged on my line. Hard.
“Got one,” I hooted, getting to my feet as the fish on the other end fought against me.
Slade reeled his line in and set his pole down, trading it out for a pair of pliers to help me get the fish off the hook.
“Would you look at the size of him,” I said after I reeled it in, rubbing it in that not only had I caught the first fish of the day, but it was a big one too. And on lips and assholes at that.
“You shouldn’t brag too much, Gray. It’s a catfish you caught off a hot dog.” Slade pulled the hook free, letting the fish go.
I ignored his jibe. “I think that’s the biggest fish I’ve ever caught out of this pond.”
He snorted, tossing the pliers back in the tackle box. “It’s not hard to catch a bottom feeder when you’re putting garbage on the end of your line.”
I slipped the hook into one of the eyelets on the pole and reeled the extra line in. With the hook set, I poked him with the tip of the fishing pole.
He grunted, but ignored me otherwise.
I poked him again.
“You’re askin’ for it,” he said, turning to peer over his shoulder at me.
“Oh, please. You’re aren’t gonna do anything. You’re too busy trying to prove your point about lures versus—”
He dropped his pole, yanked his shirt over his head, and hooked his arm around me, sending us both off the end of the dock before I could make a run for it.
I came up sputtering as I swam in a full circle. Seeing him pop up a few feet away, I said, “Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.”
“And what are you gonna do?” he asked, turning over onto his back and floating.
Swimming toward the dock, I hoisted myself up the ladder. I was intent on luring him closer, so I wanted him to think I was getting out and staying out.
My feet planted on the dock, I took my hair out of its ponytail and wrung the heavy mass out, keeping close tabs on Slade as he floated effortlessly. He closed his eyes, pushing his arms out from his sides. A few more feet and he’d be close enough. I twitched from foot to foot, waiting.
When he was almost close enough, I walked halfway down the dock to give myself some running room. With any luck at all, I’d get the moment of surprise when I jumped and send a good wave of water over his smug face. I took off down the dock, bare feet slapping against the warm boards. I made it about four feet from the end when the sound of a truck horn blasted repeatedly.
I stumbled, scraping my knee at the edge of the dock before falling headfirst. The nose full of water I took in made my sinus cavities burn like fire when I shot up to the surface.
The sound of pounding feet coming down the dock at a rapid pace was loud. I couldn’t see who it was, but Slade could. And he wasn’t happy.
“You all right, Gray?” he asked, swimming up beside me. He cupped my head in his hands as he twisted my head from left to right, looking me over.
“You okay?” the sound of another man’s voice asked from above.
I looked up and almost swallowed my tongue. Who the hell was he… and why had I never met him before?
“She’s fine. No thanks to you,” Slade barked at him.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, but you might want to get out now. I just saw an alligator come off the bank and go under,” he said, pointing over to where tall patches of grass waved in the muggy breeze.
I shot up the ladder, ignoring the hand he held out to help me, with Slade hot on my heels.
“Got your gun with you?” Slade asked.
“No, it’s back at the barn,” he answered Slade before turning to me. “I’m Clint Barston,” he said, tipping his hat at me.
“Gracen,” I said, running a shaky hand over my wet face.
“It’s nice to meet you, Gracen. Do you live around here?” Clint asked, giving me a smile that showed an even set of pearly whites.
My heart fluttered a little at his tone. “I do—”
“Gracen is family,” Slade stated, cutting me off. His tone sounding almost like a warning.
“Well, in that case, I’ll see ya around,” Clint said, winking at me.
Something like a rumbled curse slipped past Slade’s lips as Clint walked off without another word. The man ambled his way back to the truck he’d left running, the door still flung wide open.
He had a rolling gait, the walk of a cowboy accustomed to a saddle. His arms swung easily at his sides, the tips of his hair poking out from under the brim of his hat. It looked like there was a slight curl to the wheat-colored locks. His eyes had been the color of melted chocolate. Deliciously sinful, yet decedent.
“You’re bleeding,” Slade said, forcing me to stop compiling a mental list of the things I liked about Clint.
What It Takes (A Dirt Road Love Story) Page 4