Page 8 of Head Above Water

“Lookee whatwe have here.” Harm was slurring his words as he leaned against the bar on the other side of Hazard. “If it isn’t Hazard Pay. You’d have to give me that to work with a guy like him.” He plopped himself on the stool.

“I don’t want any trouble,” Burt warned from the other side the bar.

“I ain’t going to cause none.” Harm had clearly been here a while, judging from the way his eyes had glazed over and the fact that he nearly slipped off the stool twice.

“Maybe you should get his buddies to take him home,” Bryce said calmly, but he was already eyeing Harm, wondering what was going on in that pea brain of his. They had gone to high school together, and Harmon hadn’t smartened up over the years. Bryce knew he could be mean, especially when he was drunk.

“That’s a grand idea,” Burt said, calling over to the table from the Circle C. But none of them got up.

“He got himself fired,” one of the men finally said with a shake of his head. “That’s why he’s drunk already. He grabbed a bottle on his way off the ranch and then came here.”

“So where does he have to go?” Bryce asked, firmly, meeting the men’s gaze. Finally, one of them stood and got Harm off the stool. But he shrugged him away, and his legs buckled. Hazard leapt to try to catch Harm before he hit the floor hard.

“Get away from me,” Harm snapped before getting back to his feet. He glared at Hazard and then tried to hit him. Bryce jumped up, putting himself between Hazard and Harm, takinga hit to the shoulder before clocking Harm a good one, sending him sprawling to the floor.

“You all right?” Bryce asked. “What the hell is with him?”

Hazard shrugged. “I never did anything to him. He must just be drunk off his ass.” The way Hazard paled, there was more to it than that, but Bryce let it go.

A groan came from near the floor, and a couple of the guys from the Circle C helped Harm to his feet and he stumbled out the door. Burt was already on the phone to the sheriff to let him know what happened.

“He didn’t hit you, did he?” Bryce asked.

“No. But he got you.”

Bryce groaned as he slowly rotated his arm. “Damned bastard. I’m going to be black and blue in the morning.” He shook his head and rubbed his shoulder. “He was always too stupid for words.” He wondered what Harm had done to get himself fired. He was a cousin or something of the Richards family, the owners of the Circle C, so whatever it was must have been pretty serious for them to just cut him loose.

“Yeah… well… he and I have a history,” Hazard said softly, looking down at the floor. He seemed to shake it off. “Anyway, I should get back to the ranch. I have plenty of stuff to do….” He paid his bill with Burt and strode out the door.

“What the hell?” Bryce asked half under his breath. Then he turned to Burt. “What do you know?” Burt shook his head, but Bryce wasn’t buying it. He knew plenty of shit, and Bryce was well aware that the guys came in here, drank a little too much, and started talking, spilling all their secrets. “Don’t give me that.” He could tell that Burt knew one hell of a lot.

Burt filled a drink order before asking Bryce if he wanted another. Then he met Bryce’s gaze. “It’s better if….”

“No. That ass is dangerous, always has been,” Bryce said, remembering the way Harm bullied everyone. It was the one arrow in his quiver. “What does he have against Hazard?”

“Harm told me once that when he was in Cheyenne about a year ago, he saw Hazard and another guy… and they….” Burt paused. “Don’t fucking make me say it, okay? I don’t believe Harm, anyway, because he’s always drunk and makes shit up to feel important or hurt someone. Hazard is a good guy, always has been. And it’s no never mind to me if a guy likes bulls, if you get my drift?”

Bryce found himself growling under his breath. “I’m glad of that, Burt.”

Yelling drifted in from the parking lot, and Bryce reached into his pocket and tossed enough money to cover his tab on the bar before taking off outside. “What the hell is going on now?” Bryce snapped, and everyone froze. Hazard took a step away from Harm, who looked like a bull who had seen red. “Get him the hell out of here and back to the ranch.”

“Richards fired him,” one of the men said.

“I don’t care. He’s part of their family, and this is something they’re going to need to handle. You tell old man Richards he can call me if he has any questions. But be sure to relay the message that if he wants me to clean up his mess, I’ll make sure that the maid service will cost him.” His arm ached like hell. He knew it wasn’t broken, but it throbbed, and he was pretty sure he needed to get some ice on it. “Hazard, get out of here. I’ll be right behind you.” He waited until Hazard was in his truck before climbing into his own and heading out, leaving the hands from the Circle C to take care of their own mess.

Bryce climbedout of the cab and looked at the big house, not wanting to go inside. His mother would take one look at him and know something was wrong.

“You need to get some ice on that arm,” Hazard told him softly. “Come on in, and I can help you, so you don’t worry your mama.”

Bryce followed as Hazard went around to the side entrance and opened the door. He hadn’t been in this set of rooms since he was a teenager. “Mom,” Hazard called, but there was no answer, and Bryce was relieved. He didn’t need Charlotte telling his mother what had happened. “Have a seat at the table, and I’ll get some ice and stuff.” Hazard filled a plastic bag with ice and then got a towel. He placed the ice in it and stood near him. “I think you need to take off your shirt.” His voice sounded rough.

“I don’t think I can.” His arm ached and was becoming stiff. Hazard gently tugged his shirt upward and helped him get it off, the air-conditioning caressing his now-cooling skin. Hazard placed the light towel against his arm and tied it fast. It slipped almost immediately, and Hazard held it in place, his other hand lightly touching his arm.

“Come on to the sofa,” he said, helping him over, and once Bryce got comfortable, Hazard got the ice back in place and stepped away, their gazes meeting. For a few seconds, the ice had no effect whatsoever as the temperature in the room rose by the second.

“Hazard,” Bryce whispered, his mind whirling. The attraction had been building, as far as he was concerned, for quite some time, but Hazard never seemed to pay any attention. This was probably a bad idea, but he used his good arm to lightly touch Hazard’s wrist. He waited, and Hazard drew closer.

“You know this is not a good idea.” Hazard’s voice had grown sandpaper-rough, and Bryce knew the attraction he felt deep inside him was mutual, at least on some level.