Page 6 of The Banker and the Blue Collar Man
These were nice kids, and they didn’t have anything except what they wore on their backs. Maybe they could have been at some fast-food joint earning money to buy those socks, but theywere here, about to join in the fun and games at the ranch. It was Lucas’ responsibility now.
Rubbing my forehead, I looked up at Jake. He held his hat propped on his knee, fingers laced along the brim. His eyes were very dark, like he didn’t like what had happened but didn’t know what to think about it.
“We should get them what they need,” I said, making it a bit of a question, a bit of direction.
“Yes,” Jake said, because obviously he was not one to mince words.
“Can you take the lead?” I asked. “I have no idea what’s on that list.”
Using even fewer words than before, Jake nodded and began to direct the young men around the store with brief instructions to get what they needed and to not go overboard.
He was trusting them to shop for themselves, which made sense, given their ages and the goal of the ranch. Which was to instill a good work ethic, among other things.
Jake knew the drill, and he presumably knew how to herd cattle. He used that knowledge to guide the shopping in the way it ought to go. Good blue jeans, not overly fancy ones. Plain socks and briefs and t-shirts. Sensible boots. A good straw cowboy hat, which turned out to be the most expensive article of clothing.
After paying and placing the purchases in the truck bed, Jake led us to the market up the street, where the boys got basic toiletries and sunscreen.
“We can always come back,” Jake said, sensible and steady the entire time.
As we returned to the truck, Jake dipped his head to me. “Thanks for your help earlier.”
“Sure,” I said, though I’d not done much besides make a phone call.
This time I sat in the truck’s cab with Jake, and Cameron and Dillon shared the truck bed with their goodies. The truck had a bench seat that was a tad slippery, but it smelled clean, and it was nice to be out of the wind.
Jake drove silently, both hands on the wheel, using the long stick shift to change gears. It would have been simpler to have an automatic, wouldn’t it?
But that, evidently, was not Jake’s style. A flip phone, a truck with a manual transmission, and a job that probably involved almost no technology at all. That seemed to suit him.
Which made me wonder about what was underneath that flint-edged exterior of his. And what might make a smile dance in his strange blue–and–glass green–flecked eyes.
Not that I was going to ask. Try to work my way past that glower? No thank you.
Chapter 3
Dalton
Dinner in the dining hall was a blur of noise and movement. Other LGBTQ kids, already ensconced at the ranch, were happy to pull Dillon and Cameron into a variety of conversations and happy to sit with them.
I’d no idea teenagers could be so loud, and sitting across from Lucas at a long table near the wall with my back to the room made it only marginally better.
“It’s always like this on a kid’s first night at the ranch,” Lucas said. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Sure.” I knew I wouldn’t. I focused on the food: a simple stew, cornbread. Iced tea. There was some talk about what was for dessert, but I wasn’t a big dessert eater anyway, so I let the chatter float over me, only surfacing from my thoughts when I felt Lucas looking at me.
“What?” I wiped my mouth with a paper napkin.
“It’s too windy for a trail ride after dinner,” he said. “But maybe we can have one tomorrow. Someone can find you a pair of boots.”
“I’m not staying past tomorrow morning,” I said, keeping the exasperation out of my voice. “And I’m afraid of horses. You know that.”
“Still?” Lucas shook his head in disbelief.
“I told those two kids that on the drive up here, and they just laughed.”
“I’m not the biggest fan, either,” Lucas said, “but I am learning to ride because you need to on a ranch.”
I turned my attention to the last of my cornbread. I didn’t want to get into it. Horses. They were too unpredictable, too big, and weighed too much for me to want to go near them.
