Page 29 of Chasing Home
“I’ve never made a decision based off of blind faith before.”
“I don’t know about blind, darlin’. I’ve got twenty-twenty vision, and right now, it’s dead focused on you.”
10
JOHNNY
Joker sways beneath my body, keeping pace with Wade and Kip. The black beast of a horse beneath my boss keeps his head up and ears alert as we follow behind the herd of cattle, bringing them toward their new home for the next few weeks.
My pup, Tracker, leads the herd, running from one side to the other with sharp yaps that force the cattle back in line when they sway a bit too far from the others. Rotation days are his favourite because he gets to mouth off without getting in shit for it. And that’s a common occurrence around here.
I got him from a farmer a few towns over who offered an entire litter of Australian cattle dogs to Wade in exchange for one of our best bulls. Wade told him, in more polite terms, to kick rocks, but I took one look at the grey, black, and brown puppy with a tongue damn near the length of my forearm dripping puddles onto the grass and took him as my own.
“You should get a couple of pups for yourself,” I say to Wade. “The ranch could use a few more.”
“Between you and Thomas, I already got plenty of mutts around here.”
“I can’t tell if you’re referring to us or our dogs.”
He scoffs a rasped laugh. “Both.”
Thomas, one of my friends from school who works with me on Steele Ranch, bought one of Tracker’s sisters that same day. He doesn’t spend a single day at work without her by his side. We have our obsession with our dogs in common, amongst a handful of other things.
Bandit looks similar to Tracker but has grey-blue eyes instead of brown and enough energy to put every other animal on the ranch to shame. It’s hard to tell them apart unless you’re face to face, so I make sure Tracker’s fitted with his blue bandana before we get to work every morning to try and help.
The siblings battle back and forth with their yippy barks, as if competing to see who’ll do a better herding job, until I lift my fingers to my mouth and whistle. They shut up instantly and get back into their proper positions, no longer concerned with one another.
I spy Thomas on an ATV near the front of the herd, getting closer to the pasture gate that we left open this morning. The grass there is thick and green, healthier than the one we’ve just left. With fall coming soon, we’ve got a million things on the list of to-dos, and just like I do every year, I feel like there isn’t enough time to complete it all. Not even with the full team of ranch hands and Brody and Garrison here, as opposed to a few years back.
The fencing around the pasture we’re moving this herd of cattle to is solid, recently checked for any holes or sharp pieces, and I can’t help but think back to the fence around the bulls. The assholes are only a field over, and if they keep acting like they have been, it’ll only be a manner of time before they bust through to say hello to these cows.
“Have you thought more on the fence situation?” I ask.
Wade doesn’t stiffen at the question, but he also doesn’t look pleased either. It’s the old-fashioned stubbornness in him.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve got a lot of things on my mind right now. A lot more important things than the bulls and their tantrums.”
“You’d prefer to think about them after they’ve smashed their way into a herd and fucked their way through ’em all before spring hits and we’re ready for it?” I ask calmly.
He jerks his head in my direction and glares viciously. “I’ve never had anything close to that happen here before.”
“I’m trying to keep it that way with steel fencing around the bull pasture. Let me figure everything out. I’ll take care of it,” I offer, close to begging. “We don’t gotta redo every side. Just the two facing the road and the cattle.”
My gut tells me it needs to get done soon. If he doesn’t take me seriously here, I’ll just do it without his permission and deal with the consequences, knowing the herd is safe.
“You’ve never let anything happen to your cows before, Wade. Everyone knows you love ’em all. So just let me do this,” I add.
There’s a moment of heavy silence as we stare at each other. He keeps his glare brutal, resolve unshaken. The look threatens to have me backing up and telling him to forget I said anything. But I don’t. I hold his glare and keep my features relaxed, proving that I’m sure about this.
“Fine,” he mutters reluctantly. “But make a plan, and then bring it to me. I want more than a half-cocked idea before you destroy a perfectly good fence.”
I grin so wide my cheeks burn. His approval is more than simply acceptance. It’s him putting his trust in me and believing that I can do this.
“Will do. I’ll figure it out tonight.”