Page 46 of Rocky Mountain Devil
Rafe shrugged. “We can figure it out.”
Blake nodded. “I’ll let Daniel know. He’ll be—”
Shit. “Make sure the boys know to come to Gabe’s. We’ll meet them here.” He glanced at Gabe. “Sorry, but…”
“No, you’re right.”
Ben never came over to the new buildings if he could help it, and they both knew it.
Hell, the entire family knew what they weren’t straight-up saying. Steve and Karen were grim-faced, and Blake was nodding, and it wasn’t funny but it was because there was no way he should have to run interference to keep the boys out of his father’s path.
Rafe was still thinking about the incident the next morning when he returned to the homestead to complete a few tasks. Terrible screeching noises rose from inside the old barn beside the house, dust shooting from the open doors of the hayloft as if a pack of demons had possessed the place and were ripping it apart from the inside out.
He wasn’t too far off the mark.
Rafe parked well away then cautiously opened the door to the old building, confused to find his father tearing apart stall walls, dust swirling everywhere and creating a heavy curtain in the air.
Ben raised the tractor bucket to about four feet, adjusted the blade angle higher and tore out another section. The ripped-up boards landed with a crash, sending more dust flying, the roof creaking ominously.
Holy shit.Rafe ran down a side path, desperate to get into his father’s line of vision as quickly as possible. He stayed back as far as he could, shouting over and over as he waved his arms until his father stopped flinging the bucket around.
Ben’s face was folded into a scowl as he put the tractor into low gear, as if Rafe had done something absolutely terrible. “Get out of my way,” he shouted over the engine roar.
“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe rushed the tractor and yanked the keys from the ignition. The sudden quiet as the engine died made his final words extra loud, and they echoed in the open space. “You can’t take down walls without a plan. The next post over is the support beam for the main roof—are you trying to kill yourself?”
Ben shot to his feet and out of the tractor, eyes narrowing. “I’m not an idiot, and I’ll thank you to remember that when you’re talking to me.”
“Don’t act like one, then. And I never said you were an idiot, but that move you were about to make was damn stupid. What’s going on? You’re making a mess—”
“Last time I checked this was still my place. Even though your brother likes to boss us around, this barn ismine”—Ben smacked his fist down on the tractor frame—“and I don’t need anyone’s permission to make changes.”
The fear that had driven Rafe became anger. Blood pounded, and his ears rang, and the thing he wanted most at that moment was to wipe the indignant expression off his father’s face.
“You might not need permission, but it’d be good to have a structural plan in mind,” he shouted back, flinging a hand to point at the support post his father had been mere feet away from dislodging. “Or at least if you want to bring the whole thing down on your head, give me enough time to get the animals and equipment out so they don’t get hurt by your stupidity.”
Ben’s face had gone bright red, and his hands were clenched in fists by his hips. “I don’t like your tone, young man. I’m still your father, and you will speak to me with respect.”
“It’s not disrespectful to try and save your life, but if you think it is, fine. That’s the last time I’ll interfere.”
He tossed the keys at Ben, not even watching to see if they were caught. Instead, he stomped away, heading into the house to grab a drink before returning to the other side of the ranch and getting as far away from his father as possible.
The interior of the house was well worn, but clean and tidy, little signs of his mother everywhere. Today there was a reason for additional warmth as he wandered past his mom at the stove and squatted beside the high chair where Micah was strapped in and chewing on a baby cookie.
Rafe took a deep breath and shoved aside the anger and exasperation of the past minutes with his father. His nephew didn’t deserve second-hand frustration.
“Hey, big fella. You living the life of leisure today? Getting spoiled by your Grammy?”
His mother appeared at his side, handing him a chocolate chip cookie warm from the oven. “Allison’s not feeling well.” She frowned. “I didn’t expect to see you. I thought your father had a whole bunch of tasks he wanted your help with.”
Rafe wondered exactly how much to say to his mom. “He didn’t say anything. Although I didn’t give him much of a chance because we were too busy shouting at each other about him being an idiot.”
“Oh, Rafe.” His mom sat next to Micah, absently brushing the hair off the toddler’s forehead. “You two are so alike at times.”
Fuck—exactly what he didn’t want to hear. “Great. You think I’m an asshole?”
His mom whirled on him, eyes flashing. “Watch your language, Raphael Coleman. And no, I meant you’re both stubborn when you get an idea in your head. It’s like beating rocks with my bare hands to get you to change your mind. And now you’ve both set yourselves on paths where you’re like oil and water.”
“That’s not what I intend, but the minute I see him—” Rafe cut himself off, slightly mollified by her explanation.
