FORD woke up the next morning and reached for his bedside lamp. Which wasn’t there. This old brass bed had a reading lamp clipped on the top.
Man, he needed to move in some of his shit.
The thought shocked him, but not as much as it would have just last night. Much as he hated to admit it, Stoney was right. This was his place, and he belonged here. Why was he commuting in from Aspen and staying in a guest room?
Half of this house was his, dammit. Half of the ranch. And God knew he’d just pitched a whole new ball of wax to the BLM folks, one he hadn’t even told Stoney about. That was Stoney’s own fault too, not wanting to act like a ranch owner. Ty had been counting on the lazy son of a bitch. Okay, not lazy, but shiftless. Shiftless for sure and possibly drunk.
He’d seen Stoney’s eyes last night, all bloodshot and barely open. And the man was raising his nephew. His sort of nephew. His cousin’s little boy. Whatever.
Ford heard a scraping in the hallway, something banging against the bedroom door, and he rose and padded over to peer out.
There were a pair of good old boys hauling out a dresser, and he heard his uncle’s voice. “Take these boxes too, guys, but leave the bed.”
Ford grabbed his robe and headed out. “Ty?”
“Hey, son. How goes it?” Ty looked happy, healthy, almost perky.
“Fine. What’s up?” Had Ty even been planning to let him know he was there for the rest of his stuff?
“I found these fine men last night, and they had an opening today, so instead of waiting for another three weeks, I struck while the iron was hot, so to speak.”
“Ah.” Well, that was better, right? Spontaneous, not evil.
“Besides, this is easier. Rip the bandage off, yeah?”
“I guess. You want me to keep your room set up for when you visit?”
“Nope. If I stay, I can use Stoney’s guest room. That way you can make it yours.”
“Jesus. You don’t even want to stay on my side of the hall? Do I have leprosy?” That wasn’t fair, but damn. He could fix up a fucking guest room for Ty.
Ty fastened a look on him that could have frozen hell. “Pardon me? What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I can’t get Stoney to even look at me for five minutes when you fucking asked me to come here and help. I need his ass on board, and he’s playing drunk cowboy asshole!” Ford was sick and tired of playing nice.
“You hold it right there.” Ty grabbed his phone and dialed. “Boy, you get over to my office. Right now. No. Now.”
Then the phone clicked shut and Ty pointed. “In my office.”
Fucking great. Just what he needed. A stern talking to was going to make things so much better.
Ty whacked him with the phone.
“Ow!”
“What did I say? Office. Now.”
“I’m not even dressed.” Ford went, though, didn’t he? Wasn’t an old guy on dialysis supposed to be weak?
Stoney came running in, covered in mud and snow and horseshit. “What’s wrong? Did something bad happen?”
“What the fuck are you two doing?” Ty demanded. “Why are your heads up your asses?”
Stoney blinked at Ty, then at him. “What?”
“You heard me! This ranch will go down if you two don’t get your shit together.”
“Hey! I got the BLM renewal.” Ford was doing his part.
“Which is what I brought you in here for, not to fight with Stoney.”
“I ain’t fought with no one.” Stoney’s voice was flat, dangerously still.
“Don’t go there. What the fuck are you about, boy? Drinking on the job? What are you thinking? You know better!”
“What? When? When have I done that?” Now he had Stoney’s full attention. Like 100 percent.
“Ford says you were drunk.”
Ford rolled his eyes. “He was. And he’s been hungover at work more than once. You forget that my main complaint is that he refuses to work and or meet with me, and time is wasting.”
“No, sir.” Stoney stood up tall—as tall as he could—and shook his head. “I had a couple of drinks one evening when Quartz was spending the night away, and I paid for it that next morning and missed breakfast, but that was it. Absolutely it. Last time I checked, I was legal and weren’t nobody hurt by me having a few.”
“What about dinner last night?” Ford demanded. “You were bloodshot as hell.”
“I hadn’t slept in three days. I was working a hunting party.” Stoney looked at him like he was a bug smashed on the bottom of his boot before turning to his uncle. “What else, Ty? Let’s just get it over with. I got work to do.”
“Why didn’t Ford know you were out with a hunting party? You need to be having weekly meetings, at least.” Ty was getting too red in the face, too out of breath. Damn it.
“Yes, sir. I’ll have Ford get me a schedule when he’ll be available.” That wall was huge, just this blank, emotionless thing.
God, he hated that. Hated it. His hands clenched. “Ty, go on and get your stuff moved. I’m moving in permanently tomorrow, so I can chase Stoney around on horseback if I have to.”
“You two boys have to work together!” Ty blustered, and it was Stoney who eased him down into a chair, got him a glass of water. “I’m serious. You can’t be at odds; you’ll ruin this place. You’re family, for God’s sake.”
Family. Shit. That was the one thing they’d never managed to be. Fuck buddies? Sure. Ex-fuck buddies definitely. He got the feeling Stoney hated him. Ford wished he could return the favor.
“Family, are we? Excellent.” Stoney spun from where he was and clocked him, fist crashing into his jaw like a sledgehammer, sending him flat out on the floor, his bell rung. “You ever tell another lie about me, brother, and I swear by all I hold holy no one will ever find the body. I ain’t a drunk, I ain’t a slouch, and I ain’t your motherfucking employee. I’m your goddamn partner.” Stoney stepped over him like he was a pile of dog shit. “If you’ll excuse me, Ty. I got work to do. Horses need worming.”
His eyes were watering, and Ford tasted blood in his mouth, but he had to admit, he admired Stoney for having the balls to do it. He glanced at Ty.
Ty arched one eyebrow, shook his head. “Texans. Still, never seen anyone piss him off like that. No one but you.”
“Yeah, well, good for me.” He climbed up off the floor. “Good thing I canceled all my meetings for the next week.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna bruise.” Ty didn’t seem concerned about it, one way or the other.
“I never said he was a drunk, by the way. I said he was busy playing drunk cowboy. Thanks for tossing me under the bus.”
Ty pinned him with a glare. “You have how many degrees? I expect you to be the one I can reason with, you butthead.”
“I’m trying to be reasonable. He’s a fucker.”
“Grandpa! They’re stealing your dresser!” Quartz pelted in and grabbed Ty’s hands. “Stop them!”
“Oh, Quartz, boy, I’m moving to the Junction. Remember?”
“No. No, you live here! You stay here!” Quartz looked fierce, fists balled up tight.
“I can’t, buddy. I’m real sick.”
“No! No! You live here with me and Daddy!”
Ty’s face screwed up, and Ford hated that his uncle was sick. Hated it so bad for a moment that he wanted to throw his own tantrum. Instead, he slipped out and grabbed his phone, texting Stoney.
Quartz and Ty need you.
On my way.
He heard the clack of bootheels on the tile floor in mere minutes. “Quartz? Son?”
“Daddy! No. Tell Grandpa he has to stay!”
“Oh, son….” Stoney sighed, and Ford braced himself for another cold response, but what he heard was “I know it hurts, but Grampa has to go. He’s going to come visit, and you’ll be able to go there. He’s going to miss you, so bad. It’s going to be weird, but I need you here with me, because Grampa’s got Miss Sophia.”
“I don’t want him to go.” Quartz was sniffling, though, not screaming.
“No, but Miss Sophia is waiting for him.”
“Will she bring him for supper sometimes?”
“Ask him, bud,” Stoney said.
Ford faded back, not wanting to eavesdrop now that the storm seemed averted. He checked on the status of Ty’s move, looking at the bed with a critical eye. Lodgepole pine, strong and sturdy. He’d need a new mattress and box springs, but he could get those tomorrow in Glenwood.
He rubbed his jaw, wincing at the swollen heat and soreness. Little bastard could hit. He needed to find him some Advil or something.
Ty’s words made him grin, though. Never seen anyone make Stoney that mad but him? Shit. Wait until Stoney saw what Ford intended to do with the ranch.
He might have to wear a helmet for that one.
Ty finally joined him in the big master bedroom, looking a bit gray. “Lord. I forget how they are at that age.”
“I’m sorry.” He clapped Ty gently on the shoulder. This had to be the hardest thing the old man had done, save dealing with Brit dying on him and his wife leaving him less than a year later. “You need me to drive you back to Grand Junction? I can bring one of the hands to drive your truck.”
“No, sir. I’m fine. I’m going to get on, though. The boys know what else to bring of mine. All the rest is yours to do with as you see fit.”
“Holler when you get home so we know.” He surprised himself by taking a hug.
“I love you, son. Please try to get along with Stoney, huh? You two can do this. I know it.”
“Hey, I’ve asked for meetings and tried to give him his space. He has to get to halfway.” Ford held up both hands when Ty scowled. “I’ll try, okay? I promise.”
“Good man. I appreciate it. I’ve got to go, huh? I can’t leave if he comes back in.”
“Okay.” Ford walked Ty to the door, checking to make sure Ty was steady enough to drive. DeBeque Canyon could be a bear.
“You’ll keep an eye on Quartz for me? I know Stoney has to take the hunting trips for days at a time and that little girl watches him, but….”
“I will.” Whoa. How weird was that request? Still, he’d do it because Ty asked.
“Thank you.” Ty patted his arm, then looked back at the ranch house with a sigh and headed for his truck.
Ford remembered how that had hurt when he left for college. He could only imagine how Ty felt. He shook his head and made his way to the kitchen, needing a cup of coffee. Badly.
“Can we please have something Quartz-friendly for staff supper, man? If you already have plans, I’ll feed him myself. He’s on a tear.”
Eavesdropping again. Ford brazened it out, stepping into the kitchen. “Is there anything I can do?”
Stoney shot him a look. “I reckon you’ve done enough.” The “asshole” was silent, but still right there. “You missed our seven o’clock. When you thinking on rescheduling?”
The madder Stoney was, the more hick he sounded.
Ford crossed his arms over his chest, then made himself drop the defensive pose. “Depends on how many worms the horses have, I suppose.”
“You’re more than welcome to stick an arm up their asses to check, boss.”
Geoff’s eyes were the size of dinner plates.
“Not your boss. You said it yourself. So one can only assume you’re using that in a derogatory way. My name is Ford, as you well know.” He kept his tone even and worked hard not to sound as if he was speaking to a small child. Damn it, Stoney was the most stubborn, determined-to-do-things-the-hard-way asshole Ford had ever met.
“My bad. You’re more than welcome to stick an arm up their asses to check, pardner. Text me when you want to chat.”
“How about after lunch?” He glanced at Geoff. “Do we have cereal?”
“Chex, Cheerios, Frosted Flakes, Apple Jacks, and Frosted Mini Wheats. Take your pick.”
“We good for supper, Geoff?” Geoff nodded and Stoney did too. “I’ll be in the office at one. I got to settle in a guy that’s taking cabin three for a week. Geoff, he’ll eat with the family in cabin one and the artiste in cabin eight.”
“Got it.” Geoff grabbed a marker and scribbled on the big white board behind the pantry door. Nice to see someone was organized.
“One it is,” Ford said, and grabbed the Chex. He had a lot to do.
He had a whole half of a house to decorate and a business plan to lay out so even a redneck Texas college dropout could understand it.
He also really needed to work on his ducking skills.