9. Marko

Chapter 9

Marko

H eath sent me the directions to the ranch last night. He also casually mentioned I’d probably meet a few of the guys while I’m there.

And I’m low-key hyperventilating. I already met Zane, and he seems nice, so the rest of them are probably just as nice, right?

After our time in the gardens, I knew watching Heath through my shop’s windows as he got coffee with Jeff would never be enough. I just hope he feels the same way.

When my bike passes under the archway to the ranch, I spot Heath’s car and head towards it just like he instructed. Once I kill the engine and remove my helmet, I glance around the ranch yard and don’t see a single soul. Which seems odd. It’s a busy place, and he knows I’m coming.

Taking out my phone, I find a message waiting for me from Heath.

Heath: When you get here, go to the tiny house in the corner and follow the noise around the back.

Okay. At least that’s answered.

The dust swirls around as I walk towards the cute farmhouse in the corner. With its wrap-around porch and painted shutters, the old-time farm feel is so quaint it brings a flutter to my chest. The domestic simplicity of it just punches me in the heart.

Laughter flits through the air as I draw closer, and when I round the corner, all I see is a crowd of cowboy hats and Wrangler-covered asses. A roar comes up, and the crowd parts just as two men run at each other with… lassos? No. That can’t be right.

“You made it!”

Heath bursts out of the crowd and another roar of laughter goes up. His flushed cheeks make him appear a lot younger than twenty-nine and his hair is a little damp, clinging to his forehead under his ball cap.

“Hey. What’s going on?”

Laughing, he loops his arm through mine and pulls me closer to the crowd.

“Cowboy jousting.”

“What the fuck is that?”

He snickers as we stop at the edge of the crowd. “It’s easier if you just watch. I figure we have two more rounds before Alec comes out and tells us to get back to work.”

Heath still holds my arm and shouts out encouragement to the two… competitors? Both men have lassos—yes, my eyes saw that correctly—and run at each other before releasing the rope towards the other’s feet. I flinch when one steps into the perfectly placed lasso and falls to the ground hard as the other man jerks the rope to close around his ankle. The man still standing cackles and offers a hand to pull him up.

“This is what you guys do for fun? ”

Heath shrugs. “A few of the volunteers do rodeo and one thing led to another. You’ve got to be a little bit crazy to be involved in rodeo, in my opinion.”

“Heath.” A large hand lands on Heath’s shoulder and he jumps. Turning, I find a man with eyes bluer than the clear skies and a black Stetson firmly on his head. “Care to tell me why the volunteers on a break are out here doing something stupid?”

Heath clears his throat and drops my arm. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Doesn’t matter. You should have said something.”

He pushes past us and hollers for everyone to get back to their jobs. He’s not threatening, just… very in control. And clearly respected as not a single person in the group disobeys. They gather their ropes and hustle back to the ranch yard with murmured apologies as they pass by. The watchers also hang their heads and apologize.

When the group clears out, Heath clears his throat again as the older man approaches.

“I’m sorry, Alec. I just thought they were having fun.”

Heath hangs his head, and I ache to console him.

“I know. It’s not your fault. But you should know you’re a leader here too.” He claps a hand on Heath’s shoulder again. “Don’t be afraid to speak up. It’s mostly harmless, but they could have hurt themselves by doing something unsanctioned. Our insurance doesn’t cover those kinds of things.” His blue eyes shift to me and back to Heath. “What are your plans today?”

Like a switch went off, Heath no longer has the sheepdog look, and he smiles as his hand settles on my back.

“Alec, this is Marko. He’s taking me for a ride today. On a motorcycle. ”

Offering my hand, his roughened palm encases mine. Alec shakes my hand with a firm grip and a tip of his head. His eyes flick up and down my body so fast I almost miss it.

“Marko. Nice to meet you.”

“Like wise.”

Heath tugs on my arm. “We should get going. Sorry again, Alec.”

Alec shakes his head. “Make good choices, Heath. See you later.”

As Alec strides away, Heath puffs a breath. “He’s not usually that intense. I think I made a mistake letting the guys fool around like that.”

We walk up the path back into the ranch yard. Heath seems deep in his own thoughts as we travel the dusty path back to the main ranch yard. The same group of people are now back at work. People collect eggs in the chicken coop or wheel loads of manure out of barns. Someone has a horse out to bathe. It’s all very quaint and pokes at the deep want I keep buried.

“He seems to understand you, though. I don’t think he’s mad.”

“No, he’s not mad. He’s not like that. But I’ll talk to him tonight.” Heath suddenly spins in front of me, arms thrown wide. “Well, what do you think? Welcome to the Broken Horn.”

He smiles and laughs as he spins around again, and I laugh softly. This is clearly his element. Faded jeans and scuffed up cowboy boots with a heart of gold to match his personality. Heath belongs here nurturing the animals.

“It’s a great place. Maybe you could—”

A loud screech cuts me off as Jeff appears. The bird runs towards Heath, and I simply stand there, watching. Heath coos to the bird and strokes its head as I take a tentative step closer. Jeff shakes his feathers but doesn’t move away from Heath.

Pulling my hand from my pocket, I open the little baggie and toss a few dried cranberries at him.

“I read online peacocks like fruit and nuts. It was all I had in the house, so figured I’d give it a shot.” Jeff pecks and swallows one down, then another, and cocks his head at me. I never thought I’d need to win the favour of a bird, or that it would be this intense. I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead.

Jeff continues to eat the cranberries, and I look up to find Heath's thoughtful gaze on me.

"What?”

“You googled what peacocks eat?”

My neck burns under Heath’s stare, and I nod. “Yeah. You said he hates it when you’re gone all day. I thought… I thought it would be nice to give him a treat for that.”

Heath shifts his gaze back to the peacock for a beat before returning to me.

“That’s very nice of you. Thank you.”

Heath's voice is soft and my heart thumps out of beat. Jeff finishes the cranberries and steps towards me, so I dump the rest of the baggie on the ground. The bird happily gobbles them up and searches for more.

“I’m sorry. That’s all I have.”

Jeff bops his head like it’s all cool, then shoots forward and pecks my thigh.

“Jeff!” Heath yells as I step back from Jeff and grab at my thigh.

“Oww! ”

Heath lunges for the bird, and I rub at the pecked spot. Holy shit, that hurts.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Probably. It’s just a bird…peck.” Is it a peck or a bite?

Heath’s eyes well with wetness as he herds the peacock towards the barn. I trail behind him and listen to him mumble to the bird about how you don’t bite guests and it was very rude of him.

I want to smile because it’s kind of cute, but when he finally closes the barn door, his sunshine smile is gone.

“I’m so, so sorry he did that. He’s just a jealous bird and a bit unpredictable, but he’s a good bird usually. I’m just… I understand if you don’t want to come around anymore. Or want to hang out.”

“What? No. It’s not…I mean…yeah it hurts, but he’s an animal. I don’t blame him or you. I still want to take you for a ride.”

He sniffs and raises those soulful brown eyes up to meet mine. Lord have mercy, I can't stand him sad.

“I have an antibacterial cream in my loft. You should check the spot and put some on.” He tilts his head towards the barn where his car is parked. I follow him up the short flight of stairs and through a door to stand in the cutest barn loft.

“Nice place, Heath.”

He disappears behind the only door in this open space that must be his bathroom. It’s all open concept. A low counter separates the kitchen from the living area, and a long couch creates separation from his sleeping area. An enormous king bed flanked by two nightstands sits behind the couch. It’s inviting and warm, a lot like Heath.

He reappears with a tube in his hand and, thankfully, his smile again .

“Thanks. It’s not much, but I love it here.” He motions to me. “Let me see what he did to you.”

“It’s uh…I’d have to drop my pants. It’s on my thigh.”

Heath shrugs like yeah, go for it and I unbuckle my belt as he babbles on about the amazingness of this cream. With a breath, I shove my pants down to locate the bird peck. You can’t miss it. Right there in the middle of my olive grove tattoo is a red, swollen welt and a bit of dried blood.

“Dang, he got me worse than I thought.”

My gaze finds Heath fixated on my thigh with no words coming out of his moving mouth.

“Heath?”

“Oh, yeah. He got you and it’s uh, that’s going to bruise. Let me ah, I’ll be right back.” He disappears into the bathroom again and comes out with a different tube. “Arnica.” He waves it in the air and drops to his knees in front of me. Just like that.

I clench my molars together and screw my eyes shut while singing the Baby Shark song in my head. Seeing Heath on his knees in front of me might have been okay, but then I had to allow him to touch me.

“So, this stuff is incredible for not letting bruises get too bad. I used a lot when I first figured out birds can peck so hard.” His fingers gently massage the gel around the peck mark, and I risk opening my eyes to look.

Bad idea.

Backwards ball cap, curls poking out, and Heath at eye level with my junk while he lingers to ogle my tattoo is not a scene I can wipe from my brain. “This is a cool tattoo. What is it?”

His fingers trace a pattern on the branches, and I step back while pulling up my jeans. What the fuck was I thinking?

“It’s an olive bush. My, ah, my baka loved to walk in the olive groves with me when I was a kid.”

“Oh.” His voice is soft, and I turn to look at him now that I’m no longer exposed and back under control. “That sounds like a nice memory.” He caps the gel and tosses it on the counter. “Do you still want to take me for a ride?”

“Of course. A peacock bite won’t keep me off the roads. Besides, you told me there was a great place with homemade ice cream. I want to go.”

Heath’s beaming smile returns as he reaches for a jacket.

“Yes! I’m telling you, it’s the best and if you don’t like brownie chunks in your ice cream, we might not stay friends.”

Laughing together, he leads me out and after we’re settled on the bike; he shifts forward and wraps his arms around me before we’re even out of the ranch yard.

And I might have hit a few bumps on purpose just to feel him hold me tighter.

***

“Ugh.” I rub my stomach and lean back, sticking my feet out in front of me. “I can’t believe you made me eat that entire dish of deliciousness.”

Heath bumps me with an elbow as he scrapes at the bottom of his ice cream dish and laughs .

“I wasn’t twisting your arm to eat it all.”

“No, but you convinced me I could.”

We both laugh as Heath mimics me, stretching out his legs.

“Worth it though, right? It’s the best ice cream I’ve ever had. And the brownie?” He kisses his fingers. “Perfection.”

At that moment, the sun shines upon us and lights Heath up. Like a gift from above, his curls glow, and I want to reach out and pull his lips to mine. Tell him he’s perfection, not the brownie.

But I don’t.

Instead, I stand and walk over to the little fence and watch some kids playing baseball in the park nearby. Heath joins me, leaning on his arms with a sigh.

“I always wished I had been the kid who had a dad to take him to baseball. I used to watch all the kids play like this on nights my mom was out of it.”

It’s the first time Heath has ever been anything less than sunny. His sadness bleeds through every word.

“What’s your family like? You mentioned baka , but nobody else.”

My heart rate kicks up. This is the time to tell him. He asked.

“My mother also died when I was young. A car accident when I was six.” Heath touches my arm.

“I’m sorry, Marko. What reminds you of her most? For me, it’s black licorice. Mom would bring me this black licorice pipe sometimes when she was in a good mood. She thought it was a riot. I’d eat it even though I didn’t like it. Her heart was in the right place, you know? ”

His question startles me, and I turn to him. He shifts and now we face each other as I war with myself about how much more to tell him.

“My baka says Mom was an angel on earth and I’m more like her than I give myself credit for.”

Heath smiles. “ Baka sounds like a smart lady.”

“I’m no angel, Heath.”

The silence sits between us and his gaze shifts to the ball field again. “Angels don’t have to be perfect, Marko. Sometimes it’s just how you make people feel.”

Heath dips his head and examines his shoes. Since he offered me something, I need to give him something back.

“My mom was an artist, so I guess my painting reminds me of her the most. She always used to have pots of paints all over, and she’d let me mess up canvasses all the time.” Smiling at the few memories I have, I turn back to the kids on the ball field. I don’t want to tell him about my father. The day has been too perfect, minus the peacock incident.

“That sounds like fun. Better than a stale licorice pipe.” Heath tries to smile, but it’s not true and I reach out to grasp his hand.

“It may have been a piece of candy you didn’t like, but she thought of you, and I know she loved you. It’s hard not to.” His eyes widen and I stumble over my words. “You were a good son, is what I mean. It’s hard not to love a child.”

Heath drops his gaze again. A ball pinging off the aluminum bat sounds, and we both swivel to watch the ball fly over the fence for a home run.

We clap and cheer for the ballplayer, even though we’re too far away for the kid to hear us .

“Do you think we could go home now?” Heath whispers.

“Of course. If you’re ready, we can.”

We get our helmets on, but before I start the bike, his hand is on my arm.

“Can you take the long way along the river?”

“Whatever you want.”

He nods and climbs on, and before we even reach the highway, he’s not just holding me, he’s hugging me.

And I’m positive he’s turned his helmeted head to rest a cheek on my back.