Page 3 of We Drank the Dawn

“Sorry, buddy.” Jesse clapped me on the back. “He likes screamo.”

The men headed up the gentle slope toward the big house so I shakily grabbed the rope and pushed my feet onward, letting the frayed plastic fibers scrape the inside of my palm. The metal tip of my cane clacked over the gravel then the echoes muted as the ground morphed into damp grass. It was a touch overgrown, wetting the bottom of my pant legs.

The delectable scent of fresh baked bread filled the air and my mouth pooled with saliva. Hollie had brought meals down to the fifth wheel, but I hadn’t eaten much of anything in several days. Now, I realized how hollow my midsection felt, how hungry I truly was.

Their footfall changed when they hit the bottom step and I took the sound as a cue, lifting my cane and climbing then following the porch around to the picnic table.

A soft chatter reached my ears—cowboy’s voices, the clank of silverware against ceramic, and Hollie. I dipped my head, allowing the bill of my hat to cover the shame on my face.

“Morning, Peter.” Hollie approached me and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. She lowered her voice. “It’s good to see you.”

“Yep.”

Her hand moved air as she motioned past me toward the picnic bench. “We’re leaving this end seat open for you.”

“Cool. Thanks.” I eased into the spot.

With her hand still on my shoulder, she said, “Want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

Coffee hit the bottom of a ceramic mug as she said, “We’re having biscuits, gravy, and eggs.”

“Okay.”

Once everyone was seated, food was passed in a circle around the table. Each bowl was thrust into my hands, and I had to serve myself like a big boy.

Sarah would approve of that. I snorted at the thought.

I relied on the smell, the weight, and the feel of each bowl in my hands to know what was inside. The small heavy bowl that burned my palms was definitely gravy. The light basket—biscuits. The metal tray—eggs. The thunk of my coffee mug on the table when Hollie set it down clued me in on where it was. And the steam on my top lip when I lifted it told me it needed to cool for a minute or two.

I utilized a biscuit as an edge around my plate so I wouldn’t accidentally push food onto the table.

But my hands shook and I overthought every single move I made. The sensations in moments like this prickled against my brain, clashing and blurring together—like waves of static over an old TV.

Conversation flitted around the table amongst the cowboys and staff, and I failed to listen to most of it. Where was Bea? Did she come to the cowboy breakfast? Was she still angry with me? I shook my head—Hollie was cooking this morning. I remembered they took turns in the kitchen. Bea probably wasn’t up yet. Tension released from my shoulders as I realized I wouldn’t have to face her yet.

Tag raised his voice enough to be heard above the clamour. “Alright, everyone.”

Silence fell as the boss started talking.

“Real quick ‘fore we get started this mornin’, I want everyone to know that Peter is gonna be helpin’ around the ranch for the foreseeable future and movin’ into the bunkhouse later this afternoon. If he needs anything, give him a hand. There’s some ropes hangin’ various places—those are his. Just leave them be.

“Peter,” he directed his voice at me, “You already know the cowboys. But today we also have Penny Hawkins here with us for breakfast since we had a foalin’ early this mornin’, but she’s just the vet.”

“I’m sorry. Just?” A raspy female voice—must’ve been Penny’s—lifted in surprise.

Everyone laughed a little. My forced smile felt like a grimace.

Tag continued, a whisper of laughter in his voice, “This weekend is gonna be pretty intense. The Holmes are leavin’ tomorrow and will be gone till Tuesday. I’m runnin’ a rodeo in San Antonio Friday to Sunday. Rudy is goin’ with me. We also got a last minute call about the sheep. Cooper, actually”—a smile laced Tag’s tone—“will be drivin’ the trailer out to Austin Friday night. And he’ll be back sometime Saturday afternoon.

“The big house is completely booked and we’ve got good weather. So Harlan and Cody will be leadin’ trail rides, and everyone needs to be available to help Bea with the bed and breakfast should she need you. And we finally got the balin’ done, so today we gotta pick up bales at the leased pasture.”

A few people groaned.

“Peter, Cody, Harlan, and Cooper should head that way directly after breakfast, and Rudy is stayin’ back for chores. Duties are posted on the wall if you have any questions.”

All at once, the chatter around the table began again and utensils clattered as if they were being gathered up. Breakfast was over and, apparently, it was time to get to work.