Page 108 of Rocky Mountain Devil
Gabe had given up, but Rafe insisted they could get the job done without having to call in any of the cousins.
His brother shrugged. “Maybe, but not tonight. We’re done.”
“It shouldn’t take that long,” Rafe insisted.
“You want to be stubborn—fine, go ahead. I’m calling it a night and going home to my family.” Gabe pulled his winter gear back on for the trek to the house. “If you were smart, though, you’d go find Laurel and spend some time with her.”
“In a bit,” Rafe said. “No use leaving when I’m so close to having it finished.”
Only, fifteen minutes later he’d broken a sprocket, which in turn had made fixing the connection between the trailer and the truck impossible with the equipment he had on hand. He went looking through the older pieces of equipment in the yard, the icy cold of the February evening stealing into his entire system. No luck—nothing matched with what he needed.
His hands were cold as ice, even through his gloves, and he wanted nothing more than to go home and fall exhausted into bed. Instead he dragged himself over to the main barn at the Angel homestead because now if he didn’t fix it, Gabe would get up in the morning to find a small job had become way bigger.
The door Rafe should have used to access the barn was covered past the doorknob with hard-packed snow. He cursed as he stomped around to the far side of the building through thigh-deep drifts, wondering what the hell his father was thinking to push the snow from the road up against the barn. Bloody fool.
Only he’d been staying away from Ben, and if his father wanted to do stupid shit, so be it.
Except when he finally got into the barn, he discovered the trailer he needed parts from was nowhere to be found.
“Pain in the fucking ass,” Rafe muttered, hitting the light switch. Maybe if he searched hard enough there’d be—
The lights stayed off.
“What the hell?” He flipped the switches, as if that would help. Nope. Whatever weird shit his father was doing, it included shutting off the power to the place.
Or at least to part of it. A small light shone in the distance, and Rafe made his way through the darkness, frustration rolling forward with him like a wave.
He rounded the corner to discover his father glaring at a blank wall, his hands full of torn old rags, a single bare light bulb hanging on a long wire from the ceiling.
Rafe was tired, and he was pissed, neither of which made for good decision-making. He stepped into his father’s line of vision and spoke sharply. “Are you trying to burn the place down?”
Ben jumped back, his slack expression twisting into a frown. “I don’t need your lip.”
“I didn’t come here to give you any. Just need to know where the spare trailer is.”
“Hell if I know,” Ben snapped. “Go ask your brother. He’s the fucking king of the heap around here, not me.”
Let it pass,he told himself before trying again. “Not one of the horse trailers, but the one for the flatbed.”
“I told you I don’t bloody well know. Didn’t think you were stupid as well as a slacker.”
Okay. That was a little harder to ignore, but Rafe tried. He walked past his father, snatched up a flashlight from the workbench and clicked it—
Nothing. No batteries, or dead.
He whirled on his father. “Is there anything you haven’t torn apart or broken on the entire ranch? I’d like to finish my fucking job tonight.”
Ben snorted. “Right, as if you’re worried about getting things done. Ungrateful bastard.” He stuck a finger in Rafe’s face. “One of the stupidest things your brother has ever done is let you have a free ride.”
For fuck’s sake. “What the hell does that mean?”
Ben coughed for a moment, tapping his chest before turning a derisive look Rafe’s direction. “You don’t know what hard work is. Sure, you show up and do the chores, but you don’t have a lick of sense when it comes to making long-term decisions. That’s why you’re doing stupid things, like hanging out with Sitko’s daughter. Can’t you see the woman’s only using you to upset her family?”
If that was the best insult the bastard could come up with—? Rafe wasn’t laughing, but it wasn’t enough to make him blow his top. “Whatever.”
His father couldn’t leave it alone. If he had, Rafe might have walked away, but Ben kept talking, and his ranting got worse by the minute. “Damn stupid choice in women, both you and your brother. Pastor’s girl is using you like a patsy, and that other one with Gabe—thinks she can tell the men around her how to do their jobs? She can’t even fucking do her job as a woman.”
Blood roared in Rafe’s ears. “Herjob?”
