But for now, we had other things to tend to at the ranch. We’d be bringing the herd in soon to sort the stockers and feeders from the heifers for sale. The market was kind of meh this year, but those calves would bring in much needed money for the Prairie Smoke. There was also alfalfa hay to put in before the first frost, which could be as early as October. That was slated to be done the first week of September. Add to those seasonal chores the daily work that went into keeping a ranch productive and the animals on it thriving. We were in a bit of a lull at the moment work wise, but that didn’t mean some of us could slack off. Someone being Will Abbott.
I was in a fine temper when I stormed into the bunkhouse. Ron looked up from pulling on some clean socks after a shower.
“Any sight of Will?” I asked as I stalked to my room then flung my sleeping bag through the door. I took a moment to plug my phone into the charger then rifle through my stumpy dresser for some clean clothes. I needed a shower badly as I was to visit my mother this morning and take her to her swim class at the YMCA in Copper Falls. Mom wasn’t a fan of the ripe man smell. Neither was I to be honest.
Ron stuck his head around the doorway as I was gathering my soap and shampoo. I might have a small room to call my own, but I shared the showers with the other hands. Another reason I kept my sexuality to myself. Straight guys were funny about gays in the showers with them.
“Did you want me to go look for Will?” Ron asked. I turned to face him. He was an okay sort of guy. Nondescript. Your average White guy with short sandy blond hair, a long face, and dull brown eyes. He wasn’t as tall as me or as muscular and he had this odd stuttering walk that made me wonder if he had some sort of knee injury. Still he did his job without being a jerk like some other hand that I—
“Is that Donnie’s jacket?” I asked when my gaze dropped to the bright blue denim jacket with the lightning bolt BMX patch on the sleeve. There was no mistaking it. Donnie Webb was mad proud of his bike and biking team.
Ron glanced down at himself. “Yeah.” His sight met mine, but he said nothing else.
“Did he say you could borrow it?”
“Well…no, not exactly. I mean he said I was welcome to borrow anything I needed as long as I replaced it.”
“Yeah, I think he meant like soap, shampoo, razors, toothpaste, not clothing. You better put that back in his closet and ask before you just take something next time.”
“Sure, whatever.” And he slunk off out of sight. My mind kicked up some crazy thoughts for a moment or two as I tried putting two and two together. The night that Landon’s hockey trophy had been stolen the thief had been wearing a hoodie of Will’s. And this morning I find Ron in a jacket that was not his. Not to say that he had stolen it because he might have genuinely misunderstood Donnie’s offer the day he had arrived. It was just…odd. I made a mental note to keep a closer eye on Ron when possible. It sucked having to be suspicious of your coworkers but someone on this ranch had lifted that hoodie of Will’s. It had never been recovered so whoever had worn it had destroyed or hidden it somewhere. Was that to ensure there was no DNA on the hoodie? If the Feds could lift a hair or some dead skin they could—
“Okay just stop. This isn’t Wyoming CSI,” I mumbled to my overactive brain.
The local sheriff didn’t even have DNA testing facilities. The Copper Falls Sheriff Office was lucky they had internet and cell service. My shower and mother awaited. One of them was not fond of waiting so I hurried to scrub myself, dress, and make a fast sweep of the barns in the hopes of locating Will. I did. He was in the horse barn tossing down square bales to Kyle. Both Abbott men looked at me when I walked up in my best jeans and an only slightly wrinkled maroon tee with a white feather on it that Mom had given me for Christmas last year.
“You look spiffy,” Kyle said as a hay bale dropped into his arms, filling the air with dust and bits of chaff. “Got a date?”
I glanced up to see Will looking down at us, his brow slick with sweat, his sight locked on me.
“Yeah, with my mother.” I continued to glare up into the loft. Will’s gaze never wavered but his eyebrows beetled. I should tell Kyle that he’d peeled off in the middle of the night leaving me asleep and defenseless against whatever might have wandered into the dig site. I should have totally busted his ass for being such a fuckwit.
“She’ll appreciate the fine aroma of horse shit clinging to you,” Kyle said as he tossed the bale aside then glanced up at his brother.
“I just wanted to tell you something,” I replied, sight locked with Will’s.
“What’s that?” Kyle asked. Will’s face was frozen into an emotionless mask.
Moral judgment calls really sucked. “I was wondering if we were going to spray the weeds along the Lone Vale pasture tomorrow?”
Will’s blue eyes widened. Then he left. I looked from the square hole in the old ceiling to Kyle.
“Yep. Soon as I work out the new schedule with Nate, I’ll let you know who’ll go with you,” Kyle replied, taking a moment to remove his hat and wipe at his wet brow with a bandana from his back pocket.
“I’ll go. Heads up.” Will dropped another bale downward. Kyle and I jumped back. “Sorry.”
“Pay attention!” Kyle barked skyward. “You drop a bale on a man’s head you’ll fucking kill him.”
“Sorry,” Will repeated. “I’ll go with Perry to spray the weeds.”
“It’ll take a few days,” Kyle told him, his expression skeptical. “You’ll be sleeping out under the stars. No cell service. No women. Just you and Perry.”
“That’s cool,” Will answered. I blinked in surprise. What the fuck? Will hated being without his phone, a joint, or a beer. And his lust for Paula was obvious. “I’m going to get another bale.”
He disappeared into the shady dark of the hay loft. I exchanged a look with Kyle. The older man shrugged. “Might do him good to be around a responsible young man like you. You okay with taking him out?”
“Uhm…” Not really. I’d much rather have one of the other hands with me. One who I didn’t get hard for every time we looked at each other. Maybe Donnie. Donnie didn’t have sky blue eyes or a softness that came out when nighttime was hugging the land.
“If you’d rather not…”