8. Porter

I headinto the barn to check the chore board and see where Sully is. There's always something that needs to be done, so they keep a list each day, and when someone is assigned to a job, or doing it, their name gets added.

I don't see anything listed for Sully and bite back a quiet curse. Of course he isn't there when I need to talk to him.

You don't need him. You can tell Wade. He's the foreman.

"You need something?" I hear from behind me, Sully's voice rough and drowsy. It's still fairly early in the day, but he sounds more tired than usual. I've been watching him too often in the past few days since we decided to forget the past and be nothing but boss and employee. Sully still runs himself ragged, still takes on more responsibility than he should, still works his ass off to do whatever he can to make his parents proud. Doesn't he see how lucky he is? They're already proud of him.

"I think a couple of heifers have bloat. I'm trying some bloat oil in their water, but I wanted to tell you in case we need to call Doc Roy in."

"Fuck." Sully pulls off his hat and rubs a hand over his sweaty hair. "That's the last thing we need."

I nod because it's true. "Hopefully I caught it early enough and we can get it taken care of."

"Thank you for that. I'll go take a look and keep a close eye on them. I'll make sure the rest of the guys do the same."

We both stand there staring at each other as if there aren't a million other things we could be doing. I turn away and shake my head only to get a quiet, "What?" from him.

"Why you whatting me? You're the one starin'."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he answers in this playful, flirty way that reminds of when we were kids.

I'm definitely not supposed to be thinking about that, so I say, "I'm gonna go ride fence," and mark my name down for the side of the property I'm taking.

"You always loved doing that. I think it's your second favorite thing to working with the horses."

He's not wrong. I've always been a loner, so being out on the ranch by myself, riding along the fence line, checking for any problems that might need tending to, suits me just fine.

"I don't know how you know that about me. Just boss and employee, remember?"

Sully chuckles and holds up his hands in defeat. "So it's like that, huh? I gotta pretend not to know you at all?"

"Yeah," I grumble, "you do," hating the fact that it's so easy for him to slip back into feeling comfortable around me. That kind of thing will never be easy for me. Sometimes it felt that way with him. I'd forget that a lot of the difficulties my dad had before he died were due to our family's struggles—struggles we wouldn't've had if we'd owned half of such a lucrative ranch. Sometimes he drank too much and yelled too much, but he always felt bad about it afterward.

Goddamn. Here I am, thinking about it all again. Fucking Sully. He always twists me all up.

"We good, boss?" I ask him. "I need to check on the fence."

"Yup," Sully replies, disappointment in his voice. I'm heading toward Arrow when he says, "The Bureau of Land Management just did another roundup. Dad's bringing in some new stallions. Rumor has it one of them is a pretty wild mustang. Thought you might like to know."

Wild mustangs are protected, and sometimes put up for adoption by the Bureau of Land Management. The back of my neck prickles with excitement, with a need not many things can make me feel. There's only been a few of them in my whole life—ranching, horses, and Bishop Sullivan.

I nod, grab my bag with supplies, then head out to the paddock for Arrow. I've already ridden him this morning, so he's saddled and ready to go. Bulldog and Big Jimmy are talking, not too far away from me. I give them a wave, climb onto Arrow's back, and take off for the fence line.

It's quiet out here, nothing but green pastures, trees dotting the landscape, and the mountains in the distance. I inhale deeply, sucking the air into my lungs, crisp and clean, lulled by the sound of Arrow's hooves against the ground. Fuck, there is nothing like this in the whole damn world.

What was the point in Sully telling me about that damn mustang anyway? So far, I haven't gotten to tend to the horses as much as I'd like, but I know Sully, and he wouldn't have mentioned it if he wasn't going to do his damnedest to change that.

"I had this dream last night." Sully pulls my head to his stomach and runs his fingers through my hair. I don't get why he's always doing shit like this, why he wants to touch and cuddle after we come. He knows nothing will ever come of this, so why is he always trying to touch me like this? Like he wants me to believe I'm something special to him. I'm not. I never would be.

"Yeah? What was this dream?" I ask, pretending that what he's doing isn't getting to me, that I don't want to nuzzle into his chest and throat while he pets me like I matter.

"I got a mustang."

"Horse or car?"

He chuckles. "What do you think?"

"Got it. Car," I tease in a rare moment of playfulness. We both know he's talking about a horse. "What did you do with this mustang?"

"Tried to ride him, but he wouldn't let me. The damn thing was too wild, but then you tried, and he took to you right away. You know what they say about mustangs, don't ya?" I shift uncomfortably, and he continues. "They tend to connect with one person, build a special bond with them, and that's what he did with you. I gave him to you and…"

I sit up, discomfort like spider legs down my spine. Sully sighs from where he's lying in the tall grass, naked, with cum dried on his groin. I hate it when he talks like this, when his words try to fool my brain. "Don't need your handouts, Sull. Come on. Let's get dressed. We need to get back to work."

I shake the memory, eyes spotting something in the distance. "Goddamn it." I signal for Arrow to speed up to a gallop, then slow down so as not to spook the bull tangled in a spot of wire in the fence. As I climb off Arrow, I grab my bag and try to quietly lull the bull. "Shh. It's okay. Gonna get you out of this." It's why riding fence has to be done daily—you don't want to let in anyone who doesn't belong, or one of the cattle to get out. Don't matter how often you're fixing fences, seems there's always more to be done.

The damn thing must have tired itself out because it doesn't put up much of a fight as I cut the wire and get it free. There are a few lacerations, but nothing too bad. Still, we need to get him to the pen and taken care of. I pull my cell out and call Wade. "Got someone a little scraped up from getting tangled in the damn wire. I need to get the fence fixed and ride the rest of it. Can you come get him?"

"Yup. Where you at?"

I give him my location, then give the bull a once-over. He stays close, and Arrow isn't going anywhere, so I start working on the fence while waiting for Wade to arrive. It takes him a good thirty minutes to get to me.

Bulldog and Big Jimmy are with him. Wade climbs off his horse and says to the bull, "You got yourself into a mess, didn't you? The boys will get you taken care of."

"That how you talk to all the ladies?" Bulldog teases.

Wade flips him off. "You jealous I don't talk to you that way? You got a crush? I can talk to you real sweet too if ya want."

"Don't swing that way, asshole." Bulldog dismounts and heads for the bull too.

"Something wrong with someone who does?" I cock a brow, warning in my voice.

"I don't give a shit where anyone sticks their dick. Just sayin' mine only goes in ladies, and if it ever went somewhere else, it wouldn't be with an old man like Wade." He turns to Wade and winks. "You're not my type, sweetheart."

"I'll show you old man." Wade tackles him, the two of them wrestling around like a couple of idiots. Wade holds his own with the younger man, and I watch them and their easy friendship, wondering how in the hell shit like that is so easy for some people, and why it ain't for me.

"We doing our fuckin' jobs or playing around all day?" Big Jimmy asks. Bulldog shoves to his feet, holding his hand out for Wade and pulling him up too.

"I'm gonna help you with the fence and finish the ride with you." Wade plucks his hat from the ground and shoves it back on his head again.

"Don't need help. I can do it by myself."

"Didn't ask if you needed help," he replies, leaving no room for argument.

Big Jimmy and Bulldog head back to the ranch with the injured bull, while Wade and I get to work on the fence.

"You and the boss seem to be gettin' along better," he says.

"You gossip more than anyone I know." I pull out new wire and set to getting the fence patched up.

"Just makin' conversation, cowboy. That's okay to do, ya know? Make friends. Get along with the boss. The Sullivans are good people."

My skin prickles with annoyance. "Good for them." I'm not getting into the past with him. No one believes me anyway. The Dixons are always in the wrong, and the Sullivans are always in the right.

"So are you."

I stop, turn to look at him…and laugh. Wade rolls his eyes playfully, sun glinting off the gray strands in his beard. "I'm serious, fucker."

"Don't need you to tell me shit like that. This isn't therapy."

"I used to spend time with your dad sometimes…we'd go out and drink together when I used to drink too much. He wanted more for you in life than what he had. He didn't want you to be bitter and hate the world like him."

The ground shifts beneath my feet, like even though I'm bent down, my legs are going to give out.

"Don't do that. Don't talk to me about him."

I know my daddy had a lot of problems. Know he liked beer too much and hated the world. Know he struggled to hold down a job, but I also know he loved me and my momma. Know that he tried like hell, and that trying made his heart give out.

"Okay. I'll shut my mouth." Wade holds up his hands in defeat. "Just know you got people in your corner, Porter. You just have to be willing to lean on them."

I get to work without another word. I don't need anyone and never have.