Page 20 of Captivated

Butch wagged a finger. “Has anyone ever mentioned your potty mouth?”

Zeeb grinned. “Nah, they’re too busy enjoying what it can do.”

Three of the guests chuckled at that.

Butch pushed a plate toward him. “There ya go.”

He stared at the spoonful of stew. “Tell me this is a joke.”

“Yeah, and it’s Butch’s.” Walt dished up more stew and dumped it on Zeeb’s plate. “There’s plenty. Matt said the plan was to freeze what didn’t get eaten.”

Zeeb snorted. “Good luck with that.” He forked some of the tender beef, groaning when it hit his tastebuds. “Man, this is good.”

“I take it the VIP is here,” Butch commented.

He scowled. “He ain’t no VIP so don’t call him that. He’s a guest, who’s here for some healin’.” He locked gazes with Butch. “Like a lot of folks who come here. Some of ’em even work here.”

His barb found its mark.

Butch flushed. “Then he picked a good spot.”

The door opened, and Sol entered. “Okay if I join you guys for supper?”

Walt smiled. “Take a seat. You wanna sit next to the hubby?”

Butch narrowed his eyes. “I thought I told you about calling him that.”

Sol laughed. “Take it easy. He’s only jealous.” He pulled out the empty chair next to Butch and sat.

“Am not,” Walt retorted. “But that doesn’t mean I wanna see you two locking lips, you got that? I mean, we’re eating here, and you’re givin’ off not-in-front-of-my-salad’ vibes.” His eyes sparkled.

Sol’s lips twitched. “So Butch’s lips are off-limits. Got it. I’ll just have to pick another spot.” He acknowledged the new guests with a nod. “Hey. I’m Sol Davenport. I’m the media manager for Salvation, among other jobs. If you saw us online, that was my handiwork.”

“Are you two… an item?” one of the guests asked.

Zeeb thought Sol would be the one to respond but to his surprise, Butch smiled.

“Yes, we are. Two years now.”

Sol’s face glowed with pride.

“And like I told you when I picked you up in Bozeman,” Butch continued, “we speak our mind around here.” He flashed them a grin. “Not that I’ve seen any pearl-clutchin’ from any of you.”

The older of the guests chuckled. “I didn’t come here expecting anything else.”

Sol helped himself to the stew. “Hey, Zeeb. After supper, can you and I have a chat?”

Zeeb didn’t bat an eyelid. He’d been expecting as much. “Sure.” Then he went back to the really important task of enjoying Matt’s stew.

He wants to talk about Nate. Which was understandable, seeing as Sol was the ranch’s counselor.

Whether Nate would talk to Sol was another matter.

When he couldn’t eat another mouthful, Zeeb pushed his plate away. “If any of you see Matt, tell him that was awesome.” He stood, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and went outside tostand in his usual spot by the paddock, his arms resting on the railing, watching the sun sink over the mountains, painting their snow-capped peaks pink, and casting long shadows across the dusty ground. The air smelled earthy, fresh, tinged with the scent of hay and grass and fading heat.

My second favorite time of the day.

He didn’t have to turn to know the footsteps crunching over gravel belonged to Sol. The others couldn’t be that quiet if their lives depended on it.

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