Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“I hope she kicks your ass for the ‘old’ part.”
“Nope, but I do think she tacks it onto the bill as part of her fees.” Before he could continue, there was a beep from his phone. He snatched it up and automatically put the call on speakerphone. “What’s up, Chris?”
“We got a broken split-rail over on the Robertses’ line in Rumble Creek. Can you send a couple of guys over to fix it?”
“We got cows getting through?”
“Not yet. It’s not a bad break. Should only take a few minutes to fix. I’m moving the last of the herd from Rumble Creek down to Bent Tree.”
“Thanks, Chris. I’ll get someone over there.” JB hung up, hesitated for a second, and then looked at Cole. The guy had just been saying that he didn’t have plans and he needed to be away from the computer for a while. “You wanna ride out with me and mend a fence?”
“Sure, but I doubt my riding skills have improved much since our first ride.”
JB shoved to his feet, smiling at the man. “Don’t worry. We’re takin’ a truck. Easier to haul out tools and supplies that way.”
“Yes, that would be much easier.” Cole groaned as if embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of that.
They walked over to a large garage, where JB grabbed a set of keys and checked to make sure it had the tools he would likely need. He added some wood and jumped behind the wheel, Cole climbing in beside him. As soon as he started the engine, he cranked up the AC. Might as well enjoy the cool air while they could get it.
“Chris mentioned Rumble Creek and Bent Tree. What are they?” Cole asked as they got rolling.
With a practiced ease, JB took them down the main drive to a spot where it branched off toward the east, which would take them toward the Robertses’ neighboring ranch. “They’re fields. When my dad was running the ranch, the fields were all named numbers and letters. He or his foreman would stand in front of the guys shouting out B16 or J8 in the morning as they worked out where to send the various herds. It sounded like a goddamn game of Battleship.”
“Or Bingo,” Cole said with a snort.
“Exactly. And when a guy is having problems with coyotes or broken fences or some other crazy shit and he’s calling back to the ranch for help, it’s hard to remember that you’re in fucking J8 or B2 or what the fuck ever. But it’s easy to look around and see that you’re in the field with the bent tree.”
“And everyone who’s ever been in that field will know that bent tree,” Cole added, bringing a smile to JB’s lips.
“Yup. When I took over, we started renaming the fields. Rumble Creek has a creek that runs through it and Bent Tree—”
“Has a bent tree,” Cole finished with a smirk.
“Yup. The guys have had a lot of fun naming the fields. We got Kissin’ Rock and Shit Holler. Oh, and The Bog.”
Cole’s laughter filled the cab, gripping JB’s heart and holding it tight. The man really had the world’s best laugh. It made JB want to lean across and kiss the hell out of him but instead, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel and kept them moving forward.
“What does your dad think?”
JB snickered. “At first, he complained that it wasn’t professional, but when I showed him that we had significantly fewer incidents of people and herds going to the wrong fields, he had to admit that it was a better system. We still keep records using the letters and numbers, but it’s just easier when talking to use the names.”
“Can’t argue with the data,” Cole said, grinning at him.
“No, I’m lucky. My dad can be as stubborn as a mule with a toothache when he wants to be, but when he’s shown hard facts, he’s willing to make adjustments and try new things. That doesn’t mean he won’t grumble and complain about it for six months, though.”
“Sounds like Rowe,” Cole mumbled.
“Really, now?”
JB slowed the truck as they went over a rough patch of ground that had Cole grabbing for the safety bar as if to keep in his seat. JB glanced over to find that the hot tech man was once again wearing the hat he’d borrowed while they were out riding. It had been sitting in his office, and apparently Cole had swiped it up before walking out. He needed to get this man a proper hat. A proper memento to remember him and the ranch by.
But JB wasn’t in a hurry. He liked seeing Cole in his spare hat, and he did not want to look too closely at that thought.
“Don’t get me wrong. Rowe is a fair boss. Best boss I’ve ever had, really.” Cole paused and shrugged. “He’s just not a tech guy. Doesn’t much like change. If we’re not talking about new weapons or gadgets, then he kind of zones out and gets grumbly about why we have to upgrade the computers when we did it a few years ago.”