Page 56 of Love, Lies, and Whiskey

“No. The wood for the barn was here when we moved in, but my mom had everything we need for the fence delivered. It’s over there.”

“Okay. Give me a sec.” Doc made the call, and Cowboy answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Daddy. How’s it going?”

“Better than it’s gonna be for you if you don’t cut that shit out. You busy?”

“Depends. What do you need?”

“We’re two boards short with the siding on the barn, and we need some gutter.” He explained exactly what they needed, and Cowboy said he’d bring it over. “Thanks, Cowboy. See you soon.” He pocketed his phone. “Okay, we’re all set.”

“Cowboy? How many brothers do you have?”

“Just the two, Cowboy and Dare. I’ve also got two younger sisters, Sasha and Birdie. We all live and work at the ranch except Birdie.”

“Y’all have weird names.”

“My brothers and I go by our road names. Our biker names. Dare’s real name is Devlin, and Cowboy’s is Callahan.”

His brow furrowed. “And is Birdie a biker?”

“No. Her given name is Blaire, but trust me, she’s Birdie through and through. She is the youngest, and she’s always marched to her own beat.”

“Why doesn’t she live at the ranch?”

“She doesn’t want to. She lives in Allure and owns Divine Intervention chocolate shop with our aunt and a family friend.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, she’s good at it, but I can’t imagine working anywhere other than Redemption Ranch.”

“My mom told me a little about the ranch, but I don’t know what you do there.”

“Let’s load the old boards onto my truck, and I’ll tell you.” They began carrying the boards. “I’m a veterinarian, like your mom.”

Lucas was reaching for a piece of wood and stopped midway. “Seriously?”

“Pretty wild, huh? It’s all I ever wanted to do. Your mom said you’ve been into horses since you were little. Those are two beauties in your pasture. Do you know what you want to do when you grow up?”

“I don’t know, but not that.”

That was a far cry from the horse-loving answer he’d expected. “Well, you’ve got plenty of time to figure it out.” As they carried another load to the truck, he said, “I knew from the time I was a little kid I wanted to help horses. The ranch has been in my mom’s family for generations.”

“Did you always live there?”

“Yeah. It was only a horse rescue until my dad came through town and fell in love with my mom. She was getting ready to start graduate school at the time. He’s from Maryland, and he never went back. He started working for my grandfather at the ranch.”

“Seriously? He never went home?” He loaded up his arms with more planks.

“Yeah. I mean, he visited, but never went back for good. He and my mom are the reason the ranch helps people now, too. My old man was hiring ranch hands who had been in prison or had gone through recovery for drugs or alcohol. He was trying to give them a helping hand to find their footing, but they kept not showing up for work and falling back into their old ways.”

“That’s what happens when you hire dumbasses.”

Doc stopped walking. “Hey, don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t judge people.”