Page 13 of The Little Things
Chapter Eight
Zach
Ihated computers and paperwork. Unfortunately, both were necessary for any job, as it turned out, even owning and operating a ranch. If I had known the job of rancher was going to come with so much administrative work, I would have brought someone on at the very start, but now that I was in the thick of it, especially with calving season right around the corner, I didn’t have the time to interview for the position. And Hal would rather have all his teeth ripped out with dull, rusty pliers than spend even a second behind a desk. That was a direct quote.
I preferred to be out with my crew, moving cattle or haying or fixing a fence, any of the other thousands of day-to-day tasks where I got to spend my time using my hands or on the back of Roam, but at least once a month I was forced to hole up in the little office off the back of the barn working on the books, updating our records, and inputting data into spreadsheets. It was a full-time job that I crammed into less than a handful of days, and those were my least favorite days of every month.
Leaning back in the squeaky chair that probably needed to be replaced back when my grandpa sat here doing this very thing, I heaved out a weary sigh and pulled off my glasses, tossing them onto the desk on top of the stack of invoices I still hadn’t gotten to and the account ledgers spread out on the scarred wooden surface. Another thing that I had been working on was slowly moving all the ranch’s records over to digital files. Pop hadn’t been big on digital, despite technology having lapped him several times over when he still ran the show. I had been at it since I took the reins years ago, and by my record, I was barely halfway done. It was the kind of work that took a backburner to all the other administrative tasks I had to complete monthly, and then fell even further behind my job of actual ranching. I did what I could when I could, but it felt like I was trying to climb a hill with the ground washing out from under my feet.
My eyes were starting to cross from sitting in front of the damn computer for too long, and if I had to look at one more spreadsheet, I was liable to lose my mind. When Hal rapped his knuckles against the door frame and popped his head in, I welcomed the distraction. “Hey, boss. How’s it goin’ in here?”
I held my arms out at the disaster that was my office. “How’s it look like it’s going?” His weathered face scrunched as he chuckled, his skin creased and permanently tanned from years and years of working outdoors under the sun. “Anything you want, Hal. Any amount. I’ll pay it. Just give me a number and it’s done. All you have to do is take this shit off my hands.”
He shifted the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “Not gonna happen.” The lines around his eyes and mouth deepened as he smiled unrepentantly. “I already told you. I’d rather take a hoof to the nuts than have to sit behind that desk.”
My face fell into a half-hearted glare. “Then why’d you come in here if it wasn’t to spare me the torture of clerical work? You just feel like buggin’ the shit outta me?”
“Somethin’ like that.” He pushed off the doorframe and came into the office, taking the cracked leather chair across from me and kicking his dusty boots up on my desk, making himself right at home. “It’s been a few days now, and I thought I’d fill you in on how the new girl’s doin’.”
I did my best to hide my interest on the subject of Rae Blackwell. After pawning her off on Hal that first day, I’d kept myself busy on a different part of the ranch, helping some of the cowboys move cattle. After that, I’d been bogged down in this administrative nightmare and hadn’t seen her since I walked away from her and Hal. That had been two days ago.
I wasn’t going out of my way to avoid her. Well, that was a lie, I just wasn’t willing to admit it to myself, but the paperwork couldn’t have come at a better time. I’d needed a chance to get my head on straight after my body’s unexpected and inconvenient-as-hell reaction to her. Unfortunately, when I was at home, my self-control was harder to hold on to, and I found myself standing at my living room window a whole lot longer than was healthy on the off chance I might catch a quick glimpse. If she had any clue I did that night after night, she’d probably be freaked the hell out. I felt like the dirty old man creeping on the young neighbor who probably didn’t know he even existed.
I leaned back in the chair, resting my elbows on the arms and steepling my fingers together. “Oh? And how’s she doing? She throw in the towel yet?” The question left a sour taste in my mouth, and I felt like a dick for even asking it. It was all an act, after all, and it felt like I was trying to wear a suit that didn’t fit right. Uncomfortable as hell, and totally unnatural. I wasn’t a jerk so I didn’t fully understand my need to keep pushing this one woman away. It felt a hell of a lot like self-preservation.
Hal smirked like he had one up on me. “Nope. In fact, I think she’s gettin’ the hang of things.”
My mask of indifference slipped before I could catch it. “Really?”
“Yep. Girl’s tough, I’ll give her that. Holdin’ her own and hasn’t made a single complaint, even though you can see it on her face when she’s hurtin’.”
My gut soured like I’d just swallowed down a slice of two-week-old pizza. “She got hurt?” My back went straight. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
Hal waved off my concern, pinning me in place with a knowing look. “She didn’t get hurt. I said she’s hurting. This is tough work. You know that. Some city girl who’s only exercise is probably doin’ yoga or Pilates or some shit is gonna feel it before she gets used to it. But she isn’t lettin’ that slow her down.” His chest puffed out with pride as he spoke about her. “I like her, Zach. The other guys were a little slower to come around, but she’s more than proved her worth, and now they’ve got her back. She’s one of the crew.”
That sinking sensation deep in my stomach got even worse. Hal wasn’t one to shower praise, so to have him speak so highly of Rae meant she’d earned his respect, something he didn’t hand out easily. That could only mean one thing. She wasn’t going anywhere. My efforts to avoid her were in vain. I couldn’t ignore parts of my ranch, my job, to keep from working alongside her.
“Well... that’s good to hear. I guess.” I slid my glasses back on and scooted forward, grabbing a random piece of paper and staring at it like it was the most interesting thing ever. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
His quiet chuckle filled the room, but like so many other things recently, I chose to ignore it, pretending I didn’t hear it. “Sure thing, boss. I’ll let you get back to work. Will we be seein’ you at dinner tonight?”
I exhaled deeply. “Can’t tonight. Mom’s ordered me to her and Dad’s place for family dinner.” Usually I didn’t mind family dinners. I loved my folks, and I was close to my little sister, no matter how much she bugged me. But I knew the reason Mom had insisted on tonight was because I’d been avoiding the topic of the Caswells for days now, and she was worried about where my head was.
With the new distraction of Rae coming to the ranch, I’d been able to push that ugliness out of my mind, but once the work day was done and I was at home alone, it never failed to pop back up.
I finally called it quits on the paperwork just as the sun was starting to dip behind the mountains. Locking everything up, I headed out to my truck and pointed it in the direction of my parents’ place. They still lived in the same house Rory had brought me to that very first night after I shattered the window of her bar. The same house that had become my home at twelve years old and stayed that way until I eventually moved out.
It was still a place of comfort for me, the walls inside filled with happy memories, comfort, and love. Every time I stepped inside, it was like being wrapped in Rory’s embrace all over again. No matter where I lived or for how long, this house would always be home. It was the first place I ever felt like I actually belonged. It was also part of the reason I hadn’t been able to bring myself to move into the main ranch house my grandparents had moved out of a few years back. There was a part of me that was scared of the idea of moving in there and... clicking. Like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle snapping into place. I wasn’t ready to shed the feelings my parents’ house offered and actually build a home for myself.
If I were to ask a therapist, I was sure they’d say that fear stemmed from my dislike of change. That was why I stopped seeing the one Rory forced me to go to years ago when I was a kid, after the whole debacle with the Caswells. I knew I was fucked up, I didn’t need anyone to confirm that. I just needed time to sort my shit out myself, which I did, eventually. That nightmare was never supposed to make a reappearance.
Pushing all those thoughts out of my head, I twisted the knob of the front door, knowing from experience that it would be unlocked, and stepped inside. “I’m here,” I called out over the sounds of laughter and my family talking over each other.
“Shoes off!” Mom returned, even though I was already toeing my boots off right inside the door.
I padded on socked feet deeper into the house, finding everyone gathered in the kitchen, like always. Mom was chopping something while Grandma stirred the contents of a sauce pan on the stove. Lennix sat on one of the barstools on the other side of the island, chomping on a baby carrot while Dad stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders and Pop sat beside her, sipping on a beer that looked like Lennix had brought over from the Tap Room.
That was always her contribution to family dinner, a new brew she wanted to taste test before selling it at the family bar. She had a good nose for good beer, for damn sure.