It’s not her responsibility to keep my kid for free. I addcheck into child care options in townto the mental list of things I need to take care of as soon as I’m on my feet.
She waves a hand dismissively. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve got plans.”
I arch a brow. “Plans?”
She smiles knowingly. “Pancakes. Coloring books. A little gardening. And I thought we’d bake something for dessert tonight.”
She sounds genuinely excited to spend the day with her granddaughter.
“She’ll love all of that.”
I finish my coffee and stand, pulling on my jacket and boots. “Thank you,” I say again. “I’ll come fetch her as soon as I can.”
She reaches out and squeezes my arm. “Go. And don’t worry about us.”
I grab my hat from the hook as I make my way to the front door.
Outside, the air is cold enough to snap me fully awake. The sky is still dark and quiet, stars hanging heavy overhead. The kind of silence that exists just before a ranch comes alive.
Darby is already waiting near the barn, clipboard tucked under one arm, a coffee in the other.
He nods when he sees me. “Morning, Waylon.”
“Morning,” I answer.
He walks me through it all like he’s reading off a new-hire checklist—daily care of livestock, feeding, watering, health checks. Herding cattle when needed. Fence mending. Equipment upkeep. Helping the other hands wherever needed. A jack-of-all-trades role that’s meant to keep the entire operation running smoothly.
“Muck stalls. Assist with calving when it’s that season. Manage pastures. Prep animals for market,” he adds. “Depends on the time of year.”
“I worked for my dad when I was a teenager,” I tell him. “I know the drill.”
Darby studies me for a second, then nods. “Yeah,” he says. “You look like you’ve slung a hay bale or two.”
Before I can reply, Caison approaches, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
“Mind if I steal him for a few?” he asks Darby.
“Already?”
Caison nods. “Yep. Carla has paperwork for him.”
“Carla?” I repeat.
“She’s the real boss around here,” Darby says. “Keeps Caison here in line.”
“She’s my office assistant, but Darby’s right. She keeps the ship afloat for sure.”
“Go on. Find me when you’re done,” Darby says, throwing up a hand to flag down another ranch hand who is headed down the drive in a tractor.
I thank him and promise I’ll work hard.
“I’ll try not to be too tough on you,” he says, slapping me on the back. “Figure I’ll be working for you one day.”
I scoff. “Don’t hold your breath.”
Caison snorts as we walk away. “You’re Holland’s son. Of course Ironhorse will be yours one day.”
I shake my head. “He’d sell it off before he left it to me.”
