“Okay.” Jamie turned to go then paused and looked at Leland over his shoulder with such a sweet expression, his mouth curved into a smile, that it jump-started Leland’s heart. “Thank you, Mr. Tate.”
“It’s Leland, Jamie,” Leland said. “Always Leland. Okay?”
“Okay.”
With that he was off, disappearing into the low gloom beyond the porch light.
Leland stood there for a good long minute, tracing the spot where Jamie’d been. Missing him already.
15
Jamie
Jamie hurried to finish raking the corral just before the horses were assembled for the trail ride. Then he had to clean it again after they left, hustling as fast as he could, skipping lunch because every other ranch hand had already finished the tasks assigned to them that morning. But every time he tried to hustle, he’d get a hitch in his side, and his head would start pounding, and he felt like he was moving through a river of sand.
It was as though his muscles had reached their limit the day before. Maybe he’d needed to take a break, like everybody’d been telling him. Heading into the shade of the barn, he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the low light, and nearly got himself run over. Someone caught him, just in time, wrapping two powerful arms around him, holding him close for a brief second before letting him go.
“Jamie,” said Leland in his ear, his body close enough so Jamie could smell the morning’s sweat on him, the last traces of soap from his morning shower. “Are you okay?”
“Sure,” he said, as breezily as he could, though his hands tightened on Leland’s arms longer than he’d intended. “I’m fine, I’m fine. I’m taking a break, just like you said I should.”
“Did you get lunch?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Jamie said, though that was a lie. He wasn’t hungry anyhow, and a low headache was making him feel sick to think of food.
“Fair enough,” said Leland. “Check in with Clay when you’re done here. I’ve got to meet with Jasper about those horseshoes.”
With that, Leland strode out of the barn, and Jamie realized he should, perhaps, finally take that break. Yes, he’d been lectured about this on multiple occasions, but he kept falling further and further behind. Still, he grabbed a bottled water from the cooler by the closed door of Leland’s office and drank it down, feeling it gurgle unpleasantly in his empty stomach.
When he finished, he put the empty bottle in the recycling bin and went out to make sure the corral was raked and ready. One of the hands asked him to help pick up trash and empty soda cans from the front of the dining hall, which he did, though as his headache got worse, it became harder and harder to bend at the waist over and over, to the point where he wondered what was wrong with him.
Maybe he should have eaten lunch, at least. Or maybe he could grab something from the ranch store and have it taken out of his pay, that or break one of the fifties tucked in his top dresser drawer. But just as he was about to head down the road in that direction, the trail ride came back, and there were horses to unsaddle and groom, tack to wipe down and put away.
Some of the ranch’s guests helped out, but it was a lark to them. They only did the easy stuff, and mostly stood around petting the horses they’d been riding like they were old pals, and talking to their fellow guests, all the while getting in Jamie’s way.
It felt a little like being back at the meat packing plant, doing all the worst jobs while the shift foreman sat in his booth and laughed with some of his favorite cronies. Jamie did his best not to go that direction with his thoughts, but it was hard, so he kept his head down and worked as fast as he could and was able to take care of two horses out of the dozen or so, while Clay and another ranch hand finished five each.
“Thanks,” Jamie said to Clay as he wiped the leather oil from his hands with an old rag. “Anything else I could do?” he asked, doing his best to make up for his slow speed.
“Sure is,” Clay said. “You can stop working so damn hard. You can start asking for help, saying when you need help. Plus, I just figured out you didn’t go to lunch. And I can see by how much you’re not sweating that you’re not drinking enough water. Now.” Clay tipped his head back and looked at Jamie appraisingly, not smiling. “What do you want me to tell Leland about that?”
Jamie hung his head.
Leland had said if he needed help he should ask for it. That he needed to take breaks. To drink water. He’d wanted to show Leland he was somebody that could be depended upon. And he was still reeling with Leland’s response to his bringing the tip money to him. That smile, the approval in his eyes, and the way he’d taken a step closer to Jamie as though he wanted to tell him something else—all of this felt so new, so very special, he could not quite explain it to himself.
He would be completely willing to listen to Leland go on about hay bales or wheelbarrows or whatever. Didn’t matter. Only that his ears liked the sound of his voice, and something deep inside of him responded to Leland, and whether it was waiting for more approval, or the hope of something more, he couldn’t quite figure out.
His arms still felt the ghost of that quick embrace. Well, not an embrace, really, not when what he’d been doing was keeping Jamie from falling on his ass. But Leland’s touch—one touch—on his skin, and his body reacted as though he was starving for it.
“I’m sorry,” he said to Clay.
“Well, sorry’s not going to cut it if you collapse on my watch.”
“I was just trying to catch up.”
“That’s fine and all, but you seem to keep forgetting that you don’t work here alone. No one at the ranch works in isolation.” Clay’s voice went from sounding strict to being kind.
“I know.” Looking down at his sturdy boots, still new for all they had a few scuffs on them now, he tried to think about how he could explain it to Clay. How yes, he’d been told these things over and over, but how hard it was after the meat packing plant to believe that they were true. That he was a valued member of the ranch, and that he didn’t need to be Superman to prove his worth.
