Page 52 of Love, Lies, and Whiskey

“Not if we do it my way. I know a trick that’ll speed things up. Do you have tools?”

“Yeah.”

“A sawhorse?”

“No.”

“No problem. I brought one. Grab your tools, and I’ll get mine and the sawhorse from my truck.” Doc set up the sawhorse beside the wood planks and other supplies.

Lucas came out of the shed wearing a leather toolbelt with a hammer hanging from it, carrying two hand saws and a box of nails. He put the saws and nails in the grass by Doc. “What now?”

“You tell me. If I weren’t here, what would you do next?”

“I’d cut the rotted pieces off and patch ’em.”

Doc chuckled. “Well, since I don’t want to do this twice, how about we tear off the rotted boards so we can replace them?”

They worked in silence for a while, but eventually Doc tried to break the ice. “You’ve obviously done stuff like this before. How’d you learn to do it?”

“YouTube.”

Doc tossed a board onto the discard pile. “You’re lucky you have that at your fingertips. I had to follow my old man around the ranch and help him fix everything from the time I was yay high.” He held his hand out beside his thigh.

“I’d’ve rather done that,” Lucas said sharply.

Doc realized his mistake. Shit. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I wasn’t thinking. That must’ve been awful losing your dad when you were so young.”

Lucas clenched his jaw, prying the board from the barn aggressively with the claw hammer.

“What was your dad like?”

Lucas eyed him skeptically.

“I’d really like to know,” Doc said. “He was an important part of your life, but you don’t have to tell me about him if you’d rather not.”

He tugged the board free and tossed it onto the pile. “He was awesome. A big-time lawyer. Smarter than anyone I’ve ever known.” He said anyone with venom, like it was a dig at Doc.

“He sounds like a great guy.”

“He was the greatest.”

“What kind of things did you do together?” It was a tough question, since Lucas had been so young when Josh was killed, but Doc was curious, and he wanted Lucas to know he didn’t see Josh as the enemy.

“Stuff.” Lucas tugged nails from another board, his jaw tightening the way Doc’s did when he didn’t want to talk about something.

Doc pulled another board free, gritting out, “You’re lucky. Some kids don’t have great parents to do stuff with. Look at your mom.”

Lucas didn’t respond.

Doc tried to make small talk a few more times, bringing up bull riding, cattle roping, and the horses at the ranch, but each and every time he was met with silence. They worked in that uncomfortable silence, tearing off boards and tossing them into a pile, for a long time.

As Doc pried off the last rotted board, Lucas wiped the sweat from his brow and said, “I need a drink.” He turned to head up to the house.

“Grab my cooler from the truck. I could use one, too.” Doc tossed the board on the pile.

Lucas retrieved the cooler and set it in the grass, opening the top. “Are you fu—”

“What’s the matter? You don’t like Dr Pepper? Toss me one, will ya?”