Olivia opened the door to Rod’s Chevy pickup and looked at him from the passenger seat. “Are you sure Brody’s here?”
“I know my brother. Whenever he’s pissed, this is where he comes to blow off a little steam. Trust me.”
“I know this is where he normally hides out, Rod. This ain’t my first rodeo. But I don’t see his truck.”
“Check the woodshed first.” He pointed out his window toward the other side of the barn.
Olivia nodded and thanked him for the lift, hopping out of his vehicle. The sound of gravel crunched under her boots, cutting the quiet stillness of the evening. With the time being close to nine-thirty, she felt uneasy wandering around the McKinley ranch in the dark. She hoped she wouldn’t end up disturbing them.
Jonas McKinley, a third generation farmer, was a handsome thirty-something-year-old who’d owned the ranch since his father died about ten years ago. His girlfriend, Ava Wallace, lived with him in the single-story log cabin, and they ran the farm together. From the talk of the town, Olivia often heard they made a decent living. Jonas and his friend, Cole Forester, took care of the cattle end of the business, while Ava managed the public trail riding tours. Each had their own set of employees to help with the daily chores. Rod and Brody were Jonas’s workers, but every now and again, Brody would talk about how he’d have to step in as a trail guide for Ava when one of her girls called in sick.
Brody was the jack-of-all-trades kind of guy, able to do just about anything. Rod, on the other hand, didn’t like to stray from the usual tasks. Olivia assumed it had a lot to do with the fact that Rod was the eldest. His seniority had given him the opportunity to decline the duties he didn’t care for, which forced Brody to take them on instead.
Not having to fight for control was one thing Oliva liked about being an only child. And Brody’s indifference was probably what had drawn her to him in the first place. He was easier to get along with than his bossy older brother and, though Rod would argue otherwise, Brody was less dramatic. Sometimes Olivia felt that if it weren’t for Rod stepping in, Brody wouldn’t have to prove himself all the time.
Olivia watched as Rod drove down the long gravel lane and inwardly cursed him for not sticking around to help her find his brother. Though she’d said her piece to him on the way there, Rod didn’t seem to agree with her. He told her he knew his brother better than anyone and that Brody had a lot of growing up to do. He even went so far as to state that her perpetual support of Brody only encouraged his immature behavior and that he’d never learn to be a real man if she continued to coddle him.
As the red glow of taillights faded into the night, she flipped Rod the bird. Gentleman, my ass. What man would leave a woman in the dark to fend for herself?
Chill out, Olivia. You’re not in any danger. Jonas McKinley’s house is less than fifty yards from where you’re standing.
Nevertheless, in her eyes, Brody was the more chivalrous brother.
She rubbed her arms, feeling the chill of the night. Goose bumps spread like a California wildfire across her bare skin, and she wished she’d worn jeans to work instead of shorts.
She glanced up. Nearly full, the moon hung high in the sky, a silent watchman over the peaceful valley below. Only he and God knew how she truly felt about Brody, and she reckoned it would stay that way. Brody never gave her the impression he wanted more than her friendship. They’d grown so close through the years that now she figured she was more like a sister to him. He never said as much, but she knew. Call it woman’s intuition.
Olivia exhaled, blowing out her frustrations, and regarded the many buildings that surrounded her. She’d been to the McKinley ranch before, but never in the dark.
To the northeast, at the base of a bluff, sat Jonas’s log home with a wraparound porch. Soft, warm light from the front window illuminated the backs of two rocking chairs and a small table. Olivia imagined Jonas and Ava spending quiet evenings on the porch, sipping ice tea and listening to the crickets and frogs. She then contemplated that it might have been the very reason she hardly ever saw them at the Wagon Wheel. If she had a porch like that, she probably wouldn’t venture out much either.
Across from the house was a dry lot, which then fed into a maze of pastures at the base of the Absaroka Mountains. According to Brody, Jonas McKinley owned some of the most beautiful acreage in the Bighorn Basin, encompassed by miles of blackboard fence.
Next to the dry lot stood a huge barn, a covered manure pit, a rock smokehouse, and a wood building with tiny fissures of light shining through each of the vertical slats. She assumed it to be the woodshed Rod had indicated, but in the dark, everything looked indistinguishable. The only thing that wasn’t ambiguous was the smell of manure, hay, and dirt.
Though a little nervous to do so, Olivia proceeded forward. Dark shadows draped every recess and corner. Not a single light illuminated the grounds around the buildings, save for the moon. Taking a shot in the dark, she whispered Brody’s name.
An outbreak of nickers and snorts erupted from inside the barn. Olivia bit her lip and swiveled her gaze toward the McKinley house, fearing Jonas might wander out with his gun.
“Is that you, Liv?”
Olivia yelped, whirling from the voice behind her. From out of the shadows, she saw Brody holding a hatchet. “Sonofabitch, Galven! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” She pressed her hand to her heart and gasped for breath.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“What the hell are you doing with an ax?”
“Splitting wood.”
“At this hour? Are you crazy?”
“There’s light in the shed. And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“I came to see you.” She struggled with how to explain herself without making it sound as if she were checking up on him. “To see if you needed any company.”
He peered beyond her toward the driveway. “I saw Rod pull up and drive away. Did he drop you off?”
She walked toward him, hoping to see his facial expressions more clearly before she answered. “I asked him to.”
Brody’s head fell back, and he inhaled deeply. He looked irritated. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“I clocked out. And most everyone was fixing to leave anyway.”
“And Jethro was okay with that?”
“What’s he going to do? Fire me?” She tried to get Brody to laugh. He didn’t. Instead, he crossed his arms.
“He very well could fire you.”
Olivia scoffed. “He’d have to grow a set first.”
This time Brody harrumphed. At least she was able to pull something from him. Past experience reminded her it wasn’t going to be easy to connect with Brody. Getting him to open up would be like prying a walnut from its shell. Determined to try, she sidled up to him and reached for his hand.
He stepped away. “Look, I’m not sure why you came here tonight, Liv, but I don’t really feel like talking.”
Unsure what to do with her outstretched hand, Olivia tucked it under her pit and crossed her arms. “Okay. So, don’t talk.”
Brody arched one brow. “Then what are you going to do?”
“Watch you split wood, I guess. Besides,” she said, glancing down the gravel drive, “you’re kind of my ride home now.”
Brody grimaced. “I can’t promise you a good time, Liv.”
“If I was here for a good time, don’t you think I would’ve brought some beer?”
“Whatever,” he grumbled and walked back into the shadows between the buildings.
She followed him into the dark, tripping on high grass and anything else she couldn’t see. The strong scent of dung smacked her in the face as she passed the manure pit and turned the corner. His truck came into view first, parked perpendicular to the woodshed with the tailgate down. On it sat a cooler and two empty bottles of beer.
The shed was a three-sided building with an open front and a lean-to porch extending from the roof. In this way, wood could be split, loaded up, haul
ed out, or stacked inside while out of the elements.
With plenty of room to move, Brody stepped over a haphazard heap of split wood on the ground and reached inside the cooler on his tailgate. “You want one?”
Olivia joined him and leaned against his truck. She glanced at the ax he placed on the bed and frowned inwardly. “Sure.”
He twisted off the top and handed it to her before resuming his work. She took a sip, observing him as he grabbed armfuls of wood and added them to a large stack against the back wall. It worried her that he’d wielded a sharp blade under the influence of alcohol. Stupid, really. Given Brody’s current state of mind, she figured she’d approach this train from a different station. “So, Jonas is okay with you coming to his ranch and hanging out?”
“Why would he care?”
“I don’t know.” Olivia shrugged. “Because it’s late. And you’re on his property. Isn’t that a legal risk for him if something happened?”
Brody gauged her question as he lugged another armload. “I’d never sue Jonas. He’s the only one in this town who doesn’t look at me like I’m some worthless convict.”
She felt the tender eggshells cracking beneath her feet. “Sure, but Jonas doesn’t know if you’re a sue-happy kinda guy. Nor could he guarantee—”
“Liv,” Brody cut her off, his hands on his hips now. “I know what you’re thinking, but for your information, I didn’t drink a single beer while I split wood. And the two you see empty are from when I saw Rod pull up. I tossed them back thinking I was about to get another ass chewing. So there. Happy now?”
“Not really.”
“Well, sorry. I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t fix everything for you, Liv.”
Chapter Five