“One of your prep school boys should have that liquid easily.”
“Maybe.”
She paused and watched me. “You could blackmail someone,” she added slyly.
I narrowed my eyes at her. My stomach began to turn because I was considering it. “Who?”
“That married executive in Chicago. You could contact him and blackmail him.”
“My dad already did that!”
“Right. Your dad. Not you. You don’t think he would pay to keep you quiet as well?”
I considered it. “Maybe.”
“Good boy,” she said as the doors opened to the lobby.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I woke the next morning with no real idea why Jonah and I were driving an entire town away to help a guy the family barely knew when the ranch couldn’t afford to lose any more hands, but then again, they helped Bridge and me out so who was I to judge?
We pulled up to the ranch and noticed it was a little bit outdated and not as kept as the Hunt Ranch.
“Amos is almost seventy,” Jonah explained. “He used to keep a better ranch, but I suspect he’s gotten a little old and can’t keep up.”
“Where are his kids?”
“His kids went to college and never came back. They built lives in the city.”
Can’t blame them, I thought.
We pulled toward the main house and took in the sights. Parts of the barn roof were falling in. The fences need immediate restoring. I suspected a few cows had probably escaped through them. Amos McAllen was too old to keep up with his ranch.
“Why doesn’t he just retire?” I asked as we came to a stop.
Jonah gave me that look again. “Retire on what? Most ranches around here don’t necessarily take in a huge profit. We survive from year to year.”
I nodded but couldn’t fathom how people lived like that.
An older but fit woman emerged on her porch and met us by Jonah’s truck.
“You must be from the Hunt Ranch,” she said, extending her hand.
Her smile reached her eyes as she squinted in the sun.
“Mrs. McAllen?” Jonah said, taking her hand.
“Oh, please, call me Faye!”
“Faye, I’m Jonah Hunt and this is another of the ranch’s hands,” Jonah said discreetly.
“Spencer,” I said, offering my hand and she took it.
“So nice to meet you boys,” she said cordially. “Come on in for a moment.”
We followed her up the creaky steps of her porch and I briefly noted that needed repairing too. Her house was small but comfortable and clean.
“I’ve got something special planned for your lunch today,” she said, beaming.
“Don’t trouble yourself, Miss Faye, we’re here to help you, remember?” Jonah said.
She grabbed his hand in both of hers and patted them gently. “I know, son, and I cannot tell you how grateful we are,” she said, nearly shedding a tear and pulling on my wound tight heartstring.
“This is what we do for our neighbors,” Jonah said smiling.
She patted them once more then let them go.
“If you don’t mind,” Jonah began, “we’d like to get straight to work if that’s okay?”
“Oh, by all means, don’t let me keep you, love.”
He smiled once more and I followed him out and onto the porch.
“They’ve only got a hundred cows here,” Jonah said, scanning the field near the barn and applying his gloves. I pulled mine from my back pocket and followed suit.
“Oh, good, we should be done pretty quickly,” I said, feeling a little invigorated. Jonah looked at me. “What?” I asked.
“We’ve got a ton of work to do here. We’ll be here until late, I think.”
“What? Why?”
“Have you seen the state of this ranch?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So? We’ll have to make all these repairs for them.”
“What in the hell, Jonah? I thought we were just here to help with the herd.”
“We are,” he said, bounding off the front porch and heading toward the barn. “But we’re gonna leave this ranch better than how we found it.”
I shook my head. “That is ludicrous.”
Jonah stopped in his tracks. “Spencer, you afraid of a little work?”
“No,” I said, affronted.
“Then quit your bitching,” he replied, cursing for the first time I’d heard since I met him.
I laughed. “Fine.”
We tended the herd, just like we did at the Hunt Ranch, but in a fraction of the time. Then Jonah made me clean and organize the barn because it was a cluttered mess. We could tell Amos left the tools he needed at a level for easier access so we hung all the tools he didn’t frequently use on the barn wall and did the same for the tools he used often at a level he could reach them.
That took more than three hours alone. I thought we were done, but Jonah decided the floors needed cleaning so we grabbed a broom and a hose, much like we did in the horse stalls when we would clean out the pellets. We scrubbed and rinsed the concrete floor. When all was said and done, it looked like a brand-new barn, save for the holes in the roof where patches of snow were coming through.
“We’re gonna have to tackle that roof,” he said, eyeing the damage.
“How are we going to reach it?” I asked, looking around.
“There’s a ladder built on the outside. We’ll have to gather materials and climb up.”
We searched the barn and found what we needed, then rounded the building searching for the ladder.
“Dude, that looks sketchy,” I said, inspecting the rungs of the old attached ladder. I placed a foot on the first rung and tested my weight. It held. “How are we going to get the wood up there?”
“Tie it up, I guess, and heave it over.”
“Okay,” I said, heading for the barn in search of rope.
We tied the wood and tucked our hammers and nails in our back pockets and hauled the heavy load up and onto the roof.
We were both out of breath when we reached the top. “Damn,” I said, looking down. “That fall would hurt.”
Jonah peeked over the edge. “Can’t disagree.”
We trekked across the snow-covered roof and I almost slipped twice, my heart pounding in my chest. We sat at the first bit that need patching and started working. After five minutes, I broke the silence.
“It’s cold as shit up here.”
I rubbed my gloves back and forth and slapped them together a few times to bring the feeling back into my fingers.
“Duh,” he said.
“Smart ass,” I laughed.
“Jackass.”
“Bridge lover,” I tested.
He looked at me, shocked, his mouth and eyes wide open before busting out into the loudest guffaw.
“Cricket lover,” he bit back.
“What the hell!” I said.
“Oh what? You can dish it out but you can’t take it?”
“I don’t love your cousin, dude.”
“Sure,” he said, rolling his eyes and hammering another nail.
I cleared my throat. “So, do you?” I asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you like my sister?” I asked.
His face flamed red. “I do,” he stated simply.
Hearing it from his own lips made it so much more real to me.
“How much?” I asked, finishing the patched sub-roof.
He looked at me as he dragged over the pile of wood shingles. “Honestly?”
“Yeah,” I said, reaching for a shingle.
He scratched the back of his neck, afraid to spill.
“It’s okay, dude,” I told him.
He sighed. “Too much. Way too much.”
This confused me. “So, uh, do you wish you didn’t or something?”
“No way,” he claimed emphatically.
“What do you mean by ‘too much’ then?” I asked, my big brother side coming out full force.
“I just meant that I’m in love with your sister, and I don’t think she feels the same way and that...that eats at me.”
I let the news sink in, feeling a combination of impressed with Jonah, bewildered and confused.
“I think,” I began carefully, “that she may care for you more than you think.”
Jonah’s head shot up, his eyes wide. “Shut up,” he said seriously.
“I’m very serious, Jonah.”
“Oh my God,” he said, sitting up and back on his heels. His hand went to his chest and he turned to sit, as if he couldn’t believe what I’d told him. His head hung low as he studied the tops of his boots. He removed his wool cap, then put it right back on, as if he was unsure of what to do with his hands.
“You okay? I asked.
He smiled, but one corner turned up more than the other, like he was embarrassed. “I think so.”
I cleared my throat. “So, what are you going to do?” I asked, hammering another shingle in.
The noise brought him back to the present and he joined me once again.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m going to have to talk to Bridget.”
“That’s a good idea,” I said but hesitated.
“What?”
“You’re okay with her being pregnant?”
His face softened. “I’m definitely okay with it.”
“How can that be?” I asked, astounded but grateful nonetheless.
“You don’t choose who you fall for, Spencer. Either you do or you don’t,” he said, stunning me.
Bridge had said something strikingly similar to me the day we left.
“Ain’t that the truth,” I chimed in.
“See. I knew you liked my cousin.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Your previous statement, for one. Two, the fact that she comes in the room and not a single one of us can break your attention from her. And three,” he said, “Ethan can’t stand you and Ethan likes everyone.”
The mere mention of Ethan made my skin crawl.
“You know,” he continued, “we all love and respect Ethan like he was part of our family.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said, starting to get pissed off.
“Wait a minute! We all love him, Spencer, but we also want what’s best for Cricket.”
I regarded him, puzzled. “Speak plainly.”
“I just mean,” he said, finishing up the last shingle, “that sometimes Cricket doesn’t make the best decisions when it comes to herself. She has these ideas of what’s best for her family and friends, and she’s constantly sacrificing herself for them.”
“For example, sticking around the ranch when she so obviously wants to explore the world a little?” I asked.
“That.”
“And staying with Ethan because she thinks it’s what her family wants?”
“Maybe,” he answered.
“And, maybe denying that she’s falling in love with me, even though I know in my gut, in my heart of hearts, that she’s supposed to belong to me?”
He paused. “Perhaps.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
