Chapter Two

As soon as Dallas rose that morning in his bunk in the bunkhouse, he was greeted by Bonita, though the greeting was hardly cordial.

"When you movin' out so I can take this bunk?"

The woman was tougher than all the hands he'd ever known. He stretched as he stood, his t-shirt lifting to expose his stomach, which Bonita slapped playfully. "Six-pack abs. Why is it all you gay dudes have them?"

"We don't," Ruben said, miserably, as he passed his sister on the way to the bathroom.

"You're just skinny," she said to him, then turned back to Dallas. "So, when you movin'?"

"They're redoing the cabins and the bunkhouse. I don't know where all of us will be while that's happening."

"It's getting a little close to winter for my liking," Avery said as he stumbled over to them, his brown hair a mess on his head and his hazel eyes glossed from sleep. "They best not think we're sleepin' in tents or those damn RVs they think will work."

"I already talked to Dante about it, and he knows the RVs won't work up here in the winter. Not unless he wants to spend a lot more getting them winterized and still, that isn't gonna help with this coming winter. Hear-tell from the old guys that this one is gonna be bad."

Bonita laughed and said, "Yeah, even my grandpappy down in New Mexico said it's gonna be bad and he's not gonna see a flake of snow."

As Avery moved past him, Dallas smelled his body odor and said, "Take a shower, Av. Fuck."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, scratching his nuts through his boxers.

"Nice," Bonita drawled. "Why is it you don't have a woman yet?"

"They've yet to figure out what a catch I am," he called behind him before pushing the door to get into the bathroom.

"Listen, Dal, find out what we're doing, but I'm here ta tell ya, I'm getting your bunk."

"We're getting rooms in here, Bon. You heard them! Was I imagining you all being there last night?"

Bonita cackled in the way she had that made Dallas picture a seventy-year-old witch. "Still, until then, I'm taking it."

"Whatever," he said, laughing. After Ruben left the bathroom, he walked by as Dallas pulled his sweats over his hips. Dallas's eyes moved to Ruben's ass after making sure the older sister wasn't looking.

Ruben was… delicious looking. He was lean and had the sweetest caramel skin that gave Dallas a distinct sweet tooth. Dallas indeed had a thing for him, but he was taught to never shit where he ate. Well, he'd like to eat the fuck out of Ruben.

The one regret he had about being promoted. Not only was he working with Ruben, but he would soon be his boss. Or maybe he already was. Maybe he hadn't listened enough to Dante and the others.

After he took his piss, then got some toast and a couple eggs in him, he got dressed and was finally ready for the day. Jace met him at the office next to the stable, and as soon as Dallas walked into the place, he felt overwhelmed.

The place was a mess. There were boxes stacked on top and in front of the many mismatched file cabinets, the floor was nothing but grit under his boots and the desk was piled so high with paperwork and old whiskey bottles, he barely noticed Jace was already there, sitting behind the desk, face in his hands.

"That bad, huh?"

"This mother fucker," Jace started, then lifted his head to look at Dallas. "If I wasn't such a nice guy, I'd leave you to it."

"Good thing you're a nice guy." Dallas sat in the chair in front of the desk after taking another box off it and sighed, "This is probably why I've stayed being a hand and not a boss. Can I rethink the acceptance?"

"You do, and I may very well get a bullwhip and take it to you."

"Don't tease me with a good time," he said before he realized who he was talking to. A gay dude who was into kink.

"God, another one. What is it with us country boys?"

"We like fuckin' like we like living. Hard," he said happily. Jace laughed and seemed to relax a bit. "Well, I say we get a few more people to help us out with this. I know like eighty percent of this mess is old tax papers and shit that we no longer need, but there are vendors, the preferred stud horses and the dates of their sperm collections, shit like that. The cattle, shit, there are about three of these file cabinets on them."

"Who can help us?"

Jace leaned the chair back on the two back legs as he grinned. "That hot mother fucker, Hunter Westmore."

"God, ain't he pretty? What kind of man wifed him up?"

"Heard he was pretty as a picture and hot as a firecracker. I've never seen a picture, but man, can you imagine?"

Dallas winked at him and whispered, "I already have, but seriously, Hunter's not my type. I'm probably more like him than…well, you know."

"Oh. Got it. You're more like me. You, uh, take charge of things."

Dallas nodded once, smiling. "Still. I'd bend right the fuck over for that man."

"What man is that?" asked a voice from the doorway.

Dallas jumped like he'd been caught jerking off and was on his feet, spinning to see who was there. Jace was on his feet too, until they both noticed it was Roland, one of Jace's partners.

After he growled, Jace laughed and said to Roland, "I'm going to whip your ass for that. I'm about to have a heart attack."

Roland came in grimacing at the mess. "If you aren't buried alive first."

"I'd ask for your help, but you have enough on your plate, babe," Jace said to him before pulling him down to kiss him.

"Thanks, I'd pass anyway. I don't like paperwork. Give me a computer any day."

Jace held up a finger, then used both hands to move stacks of papers and folders out of the way before producing a thick and ancient laptop to hand to Roland. "Here ya go."

As Dallas laughed, Roland took the thing. "This is like…from the nineties! I remember my grandfather had one."

"Okay, fuck off, Roland," Jace said, poking him in his gut.

"You're not that much older than me."

"Enough. I actually remember the nineties, babe."

"So do I. The last couple of years anyway."

Dallas was in his mid-thirties, so he, too, remembered the nineties, but he wouldn't get in the middle. "Getting back to the task, do we agree to asking Hunter? I hear he's only here for a couple more weeks."

Roland nodded and told the two of them, "He's coming to our RV tonight to work with me on those plans for the bunkhouse and employee cabins. I believe he's mostly free today."

"I'll give him a call."

At the mention of the RVs, Dallas had to address that. "Roland, do you think the cabins will be finished before winter?"

"That's what I'm hoping. Dante and that other guy…Marius, yeah. Marius knows a bunch of NABTU—North American Building Trades Union—members or something, and they're sending three huge busloads of them up here to get building, as soon as I get the plans finished. And they mostly are. I came looking for Dallas, because one of them, of course, is his."

"More people," Jace said. "And where are we housing them?"

"Dante is sending back the RVs they got and bringing in regular trailers that they use for this kind of thing. One is an office for construction, the others are for bunks. We should be seeing them soon. He put a rush on them. He's recruited some of the locals too, if there are any willing to come out and build."

Dallas waved a hand over the piles on the desk. "I'll just bet there are some numbers in here. Why don't you look for them?"

Jace and Roland both laughed. "Nice try," Roland said. "I'm leaving the ranching to the ranchers. I'm strictly a computer and drafting desk."

Dallas laughed with them and then asked Roland, "What about my place?"

Dallas thought he caught a look from Roland to Jace that made him suspicious, but there was no time to be. Roland started to swipe his tablet and asked, "We need to know your style, if any, what you require for your home, things like that."

"Style? I don't have no style to speak of. Easy to clean is my preference."

"That's easy enough. Dante and Blaine asked for Scandi, so I can do something similar for you."

"Scandi? What the hell's that?"

Roland laughed as Jace and Dallas both stared at him for the answer. "I forget you cowboys are Neanderthals. Scadinavian-style design. Clean, no clutter, open, airy, light colors."

"Except for the curtains in my bedroom. If I ever get to sleep in, I don't want the sun arguing with me."

"Got it. Maybe some nice pine horizontal blinds."

Laughing, Jace said, "So fancy."

"Not fancy. It's actually very green and lasting."

"Whatever, babe."

After a kiss to Jace, Roland left and Jace handed Dallas a pile. "Let's get started. I'll call Hunter."

Once Hunter came in to help, they managed to get to the surface of the desk, though Hunter cussed up a storm throughout the process. "I need a fucking beer."

Dallas agreed. "Or a shot. Any of those bottles in the corner got any?"

"I already looked an hour ago. Looks like Harrison never left a bottle unfinished. Now, if he could say the same for his paperwork, it would be a miracle."

Hunter grunted. "I think we should go find one. Any bars in that town I drove through to get here? Maybe we can't take off right now, but I wouldn't mind it once we're freed up some."

"Yeah, sure thing. Bar, post office, and a place to rent movies if you can believe that. Want groceries, either pay up the ass at the convenience store or head to Billings. Booze, though, there's a bar and a liquor store right next to it."

"We're going," Hunter said, pointing to him. "Now, let's earn those drinks."

Dallas took the drawers of the desk, and by the time he got through two of them, he had another bag of paper to burn. "We have enough fire-starter here for a year."

"Good. If the winter is that bad, we'll need it."

Hunter grabbed at least five of the bags into his big hands and heaved them out of the office door. As he did, both Dallas and Jace drooled, watching the man's muscles ripple under his thin flannel shirt.

I gotta get laid, Dallas thought.

Once he pulled out the bottom drawer, he found a picture. It was old, maybe thirty or forty years old, by the look of the hairstyles and clothes. There was a man and boy standing a foot apart, and the man was Harrison. "Look at this. Harrison, a lot younger. He actually had hair."

Jace took the picture and smiled. "He was a spindly thing, wasn't he? Couldn't be more than a buck twenty."

"Never an ounce of fat on him. Got a beer gut when he got older, but not big or nothing."

"Who's the kid?"

"Probably one of his sons."

Hunter took the picture from Dallas and shook his head. "Nah, not his kid. I saw some others with writing on the back. Him, his old lady and two boys. At least, I've heard he only had two."

"Two, yeah," Dallas affirmed.

Hunter pointed to a small box where they'd been placing things to send to Harrison once they got through with the cleanup. Dallas went over to the box and sure enough, there were a few pictures with Harrison and his two sons, both blond as the sun and freckle faced. The boy in the picture had dark hair and darker skin. "I'll be damned. I've never met the sons. They grew up and got out of here early on, long before I came."

"Shame he didn't have anyone to leave the ranch to," Hunter said, then added, "But if they didn't want it, good for them that they got out."

"That sounds personal," Jace mentioned.

"It is. See, I wanted to do what your man does. Buildings, designing and building them. It was a passion from the first time I made a Lego house. I even made it to New York for school, then the old man got sick and there was the ranch and all the families that depended on it to think about. I got pulled back and never left."

"Just remember that when your son gets old enough to choose, let him choose for himself."

Hunter winked at Jace and said, "One of my first promises to him."

"Say," Dallas said as they were finishing one of the last corners of the office. "Why don't we expand our little party? We can buy some meat, some booze and throw a shindig for the hands and the newcomers."

"That's a helluva idea, Dallas," Hunter said, suddenly excited. "We do it all the time at Westmore Ranch. It's a good morale booster."

"We just had a party last night," Jace pointed out. "Well, cookies and beer, but still."

Hunter growled, "We're cowboys, son. Cookies ain't cuttin' it. We need beef."