I sigh, leaning back on the fence. “I know, I know. Doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”
Sawyer shoots me a sideways grin. “With Clint? Probably. But you’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.”
I chuckle at that. “Nope, never met a challenge I didn’t like.”
Sawyer finally puts his pen down and stands, brushing off his pants. “Well, don’t go throwing yourself into the lion’s den if you’re not ready for him to bite your head off.”
“Don’t worry,” I say with a grin. “I’ll just poke the bear and see if he wakes up. How bad could it be?”
Sawyer watches me go, shaking his head. “Famous last words.”
I make my way over to Clint, trying to keep my steps light, not wanting to make him feel cornered. Clint’s not one to berushed, and he definitely doesn’t enjoy having people all up in his space when he’s in a mood.
But hell, that’s never stopped me before.
“Yo, Clint!” I call. “You done brooding for the day, or should I give you another five minutes?”
Clint doesn’t even turn to look at me right away, just continues staring out over the cattle, waiting for something to happen.
Finally, he glances at me, and the look he gives me is pure Clint: a little too intense, a little too serious. But I see that tiny flash of irritation in his eyes. He’s trying to keep it together.
“I’m fine,” he grumbles.
I grin. “Oh, I can tell. You’re so fine I could almost hear you growling from across the ranch.”
Clint gives me a small, almost imperceptible smirk, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
I raise an eyebrow, knowing I’m not getting the full story. “Yeah, no kidding. The whole ranch can feel it. You need to talk about it, or are you planning to keep all that locked up till the next full moon?”
Clint’s eyes narrow at me, trying to decide if I’m a good distraction or if I’m just annoying the hell out of him. Finally, he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking away for a second.
“You wouldn’t get it,” he mutters.
“Try me,” I say, still grinning. “I’ve got a knack for getting people to talk.”
Clint huffs, and I can see the wheels turning in his head. He’s not the type to spill his guts easily, but I know him well enough to know when I’ve pushed just enough.
“Look, Reid,” he says finally, “it’s nothing. Just… work stuff. And you know how it is. There’s a lot we need to do at this ranch to bring it back to what it once was.”
I give him a playful shove. “I know, but you also know we’re the ones to do it.”
He cracks another tiny smile, shaking his head at me. “You’re something else, you know that?”
I wink. “I’ve been told.”
He doesn’t offer much else, but that’s Clint for you. Mysterious, brooding, a man of few words. At least I got a smile out of him. That’s progress.
But for now, I’m starving. I leave Clint to his thoughts and walk to my truck, craving something from The Old Mill Café. So I head into town.
The café’s warm interior is a welcome contrast to the damp, gray day outside. Violet’s behind the counter, as usual, her auburn hair tucked into a messy bun, and a white apron dusted with flour hanging around her waist.
She’s pouring coffee when I walk in, and her eyes light up when she spots me. “Well, look who finally decided to come in from the rain,” she teases, wiping her hands on her apron before waving me over. “What’ll it be, Reid? Don’t tell me you’re still on that ranch diet of coffee and dust.”
I grin, sliding onto a stool at the counter. “Maybe. But I’m thinking you might have something better on offer today.”
Violet chuckles, leaning on the counter. “We’ve got freshly baked cinnamon rolls. And if that doesn’t tempt you, I’ve got some leftover chicken pot pie that’s practically a secret weapon for getting through a gloomy day.”
“Sold,” I say, giving her my best exaggerated pleading look. “And a coffee, obviously. You know how I am with caffeine.”
