Page 23 of First Chance

“What are you doing?” I ask as I tiptoe across the grass towards him. He looks visibly put off by my approach.

“Um, I’m getting the trees ready so they produce more when the fruit is ready.”

“What kind of fruit?” He clearly knows he isn’t supposed to be talking to me, but I’ve backed him into a corner, and it’d be rude to ignore me at this point.

“Persimmons.”

“Oh, I’m not familiar.”

“It’s for the bears. They go crazy for it, but the tree won’t produce for another couple of months.” He glances past me, busying himself again.

“What are you doing?” Lochlan barks from behind me.

“Nothing,” I say at the same time Curtis says, “Almost done, boss.”

Lochlan crosses his arms and looks at me, but doesn’t scold me like I know that he wants to. “I can’t sit inside all day,” I argue, even though he didn’t say anything yet. “It’s beautiful out. Even prisoners get yard time.”

Curtis gasps from behind me and grabs his tools before rushing away from the ticking time bomb.

“Prisoners do what they’re told or they’re thrown in solitary confinement,” he counters, stepping close enough to block the sun from my face.

“Speaking from experience?” I clap a hand over my mouth as soon as the words come out. Why did I say that?

“You can hang out in the yard or on the porch,” he growls. “Don’t go down by the barns. That’s final.” He stalks off, and I’m still standing there with my hand over my mouth when Jordy runs past me.

“JO! We got a new drop off at the gates, come look!”

Lochlan only made it a few steps away from me, and I’m close enough to hear him sigh, but I’m too excited to be included in something, so I take off across the dirt lot with the other guys before he can tell me not to.

“It’s a donkey!” The guy named Arizona yells to everyone as we make it to the entrance.

“No, it’s a mule,” Rain corrects. He’s the first one that I realized uses a nickname instead of his real name. Trying to keep them all straight has been a challenge.

“Does this mean we’re cowboys, now?” Curtis asks.

Lochlan and Hayes respond, “No,” in tandem.

Its brown fur twitches as it stands as far from the gate as it can with a rope tied taut around its neck.

“Seiver, take it down to the barn with the rest of the strays. Everyone else, get back to work.”

“It’s Sunday…” I utter out of pure boredom.

“Animals don’t give a shit if it’s the weekend, they still need cared for. Fences need checked, bears need fed, and vehicles need repaired. You’re the only one not working today, darlin’.”

“Fine, give me a job.” I chase after him, somehow managing to keep up with his long strides.

“No.”

“I have to earn my keep, boss.”

He whips around. “You don’t call me, boss. They call me, boss.”

I don’t know why that matters, but it’s not the point of this conversation. “Give me something to do and I’ll do it.”

“Fine. Go clean the work truck.”

Wash a truck?That seems easy enough. I jog straight over to where they keep the trucks parked and skid to a stop. Theonly truck parked in its spot is a flat-bed rust bucket and the shiny green Bronco. The Bronco is in pristine condition.

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