Page 9 of Spencer and the Younger Girl
Spencer
“Hey look!” Damien called across the paddock. “The boots still fit those fancy feet of yours.”
Spencer looked up from where he’d hunched over the engine of the lawn mower. Once upon a time, he’d been his parents go-to fix-it man. Now, he had to sneak out here to take a look at broken machinery while they claimed they didn’t want his help.
“I was born and raised on this ranch.” He took in his brother’s dirt streaked jeans and dirty white t-shirt. “You lose your battle with a washing machine?”
Damien grinned. “Nah, just up early wrestling one of the neighbor’s bulls loose from the wire fence we put up at the edge of the property.”
“What happened to the wooden fence?” The one he’d spent weeks constructing with his dad one summer when he was sixteen.
“Stampede busted through it a few months ago. We’ll get it fixed eventually.”
When he was a kid, his parents ran the ranch with a tight fist, never letting any part of it go into disrepair. In the two days he’d been back, he’d noticed the bunkhouse where the hands lived was now mostly empty and there were signs of neglect in certain structures.
Not with the animals. The Lee’s would never let them suffer for any struggles the family went through. Had things really gotten that tight since Spencer left three years ago?
Damien stepped up to the engine. “I was supposed to fix this last week, but there’s just been so much to do.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Come on, I’ve noticed you out here for a few hours now. Take a break.”
Wanting to do as much as he could to help while he was here, Spencer hesitated. Then he remembered Damien was the real reason he’d come, not the ranch. He pulled the gloves from his hands and stuck them in the back pocket of his jeans before following Damien toward the barn.
They passed the bunk house where Spencer had taken to sleeping in one of the empty rooms. He hadn’t been invited into the main house, and he didn’t ask.
“They missed you, you know.” Damien looked sideways at him. “I promise they haven’t spent this entire time angry.”
“I’m not sure it matters.”
“Of course it does, bro. They’ll get over their hurt.”
Spencer ran a hand through his sweaty hair. It wasn’t hot, but the Florida sun could be intense. “I don’t know why I didn’t call. Dad was so angry when I left, and Ma cried. Every time I picked up the phone to call them, I saw their faces. Every time I tried to email, their voices berated me.”
“But you kept in contact with me. Why?”
“Why didn’t you tell them you were talking to me?” He grew quiet for a moment. “We both had our reasons, Damien.”
They entered the barn, and their dad turned from where he’d been talking to one of the college kids who worked on the ranch. His jaw tightened.
“We’re taking Chet and Harbinger out.” Damien didn’t seem to notice the rise in tension. “That cool, Dad?”
“Did you finish your morning chores?” he asked.
Damien nodded. “And then some. Spence was working too hard, so I convinced him to take a break with me. We’ll be back for lunch.”
Spencer ignored the stares from his father and walked the familiar path through the large barn he’d once spent a lot of his time in.
“Hey, buddy.” He hadn’t been able to bring himself to visit Harbinger since returning. He missed the horse almost as much as he’d missed his brother. Harbinger was part of his family, had been since he was just a colt running around with the ten-year-old Spencer. As a teenager, Spencer got up early every morning to take his horse for a ride before school.
He’d slept in his stall when the beast was sick.
The two of them had been a pair.
Harbinger snorted, his amber eyes boring into Spencer, seeing his every secret. “I’m sorry, okay?” He pushed the latch up and slid open the stall door. The moment his fingers connected with the soft dark hair of Harbinger’s mane, Spencer released a breath, his entire body relaxing as if he’d only just now come home.
“Harbi.” He stepped closer, running his other hand over the horse’s strong back.
