Page 47 of Wistful in Wyoming
“Never. I’ll make sure you get plenty of exercise.” Standing, he pushed their plates aside and reached out his hand for Jeremiah to take. “Come on, cowboy, show me this famous workshop of yours and then I’ll help you clean up. The walk will help us settle our stomachs too.”
“All right. But I’m nervous as hell. Jenna and my parents are the only ones who’ve ever been in it. Not even Willow has been inside.”
That announcement startled him—none of Jeremiah’s friends or extended family hadeverbeen inside his private sanctuary. Wow. Dale thought about making a comment about how he’d been inside Jeremiah’sbodythat afternoon and how could the workshop be more intimate than that but decided not to. This was obviously something very important and personal to Jeremiah, and he didn’t want the man to think he wasn’t honored to see the place. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’m not going to be judging you. I just want to experience what you do—I want to see it through your eyes. After this, you never have to let me in there again if you don’t want to.”
Since it’d been pointed out to him before, Dale knew which building the workshop was in and led Jeremiah there, holding his hand all the way. He loved how Jeremiah didn’t look around, wondering who might be watching them. He was embracing being out with a grace and open-armed freedom that made Dale’s heart swell with pride. His man was doing so well.
They’d eaten later than usual, and twilight would arrive soon. Behind them, in the western sky, hues of oranges, pinks, and purples swirled together, as the gilded sun prepared to dip below the horizon. The shadows cast by the two men stretched out in front of them, as several bats flapped their wings overhead. Around them, dozens of crickets warmed up for their evening symphony.
“Here we are—as if it’s not obvious enough.” Jeremiah shrugged before unlocking the door with a key from his pocket. The building was a smaller barn set apart from the others on the large property. Even from the outside, it was apparent this structure was used for something other than animals and their associated needs. The sweet, woodsy smell of sawdust greeted them as Jeremiah pushed open one of the giant double doors, just wide enough for them to walk through. Once inside, he took a few steps to the right and flipped a switch, flooding the interior space with light from several rows of overhead lamps. There were long racks holding lumber against one wall, while in the center of the room, a workbench stretched nearly the length of the barn. The other long wall had saws, routers, and a lathe pushed up against it. Thanks to the sawdust, the place was dirty, yes, but Jeremiah kept it well organized and brightly lit. Shelves full of various stains and cans of who knew what took up the back wall. Tools were neatly organized on pegboards. Everything seemed to have a place.
The workbench held what appeared to be a half finished rocking chair at the far end, some sort of shelf in the middle, and at the end closest to the door, there rested a large wooden barrel, like one used to age whiskey. Intrigued, Dale pointed to it. “What’s this?”
Jeremiah shrugged again, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck and shuffling his feet in the sawdust strewn floor. “Just, uh, something I bought. I, um, thought I could take it apart and make you a rack to store your beer.”
“Jay...” Staring at the barrel, Dale was speechless. Never had he thought Jeremiah would devote what little free time he had to making something for him.
“I know, it’s dumb ...”
Whirling around, he quickly closed the distance between them and cupped Jeremiah’s face in his hands, stopping any further protests with a deep kiss. “Stop it. It’s not stupid. It’s the nicest, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. And we weren’t even reallytogethertogether until today, so you did this before we’d committed to each other. That makes it mean even more.” Resting his forehead on Jeremiah’s, he blinked and took a deep breath to force back the tide of his emotions. “Thank you,” he whispered.
Jeremiah pulled away just enough so their eyes could meet. “For what? I didn’t even start on it yet.”
“Shut up, cowboy. I love you. That’s what’s important here, right now, at this moment. And you love me. I knew it—I could feel it—but now I can see it too. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but whatever it was, I’m grateful for it. Now kiss me, dammit.”
“Oh, Dale. I love you too.” Jeremiah’s eyes watered with a mixture of emotion as he followed Dale’s command and kissed him, deeply, thoroughly, and oh so passionately.
* * *
Later that night,Jeremiah’s phone vibrated and slid across his nightstand, loud enough to wake him. He snatched the thing before it could disturb Dale snoring softly next to him. Blinking a few times, he tried to read the numbers on his bedside clock and groaned when they finally came into focus, telling him it was only a little after one a.m. He had to be up in four hours and whoever was calling him better have a good fucking reason or there’d be hell to pay. He swiped the screen to answer the call without bothering to check the caller ID.
“Lo?” he mumbled, keeping his voice low and running a hand over his face.
“Jeremiah? It’s Grady—sorry to wake you but it looks like your fence next to the main road was cut—we’ve got your cattle all over the place.”
“Fuck me.” He groaned again, deeper and longer. “Give me a few to get dressed and haul Anthony and the hands out of bed. We’ll be right there.”
Disconnecting the call, he rolled over and nudged Dale to wake him. There was nothing more he wanted to do than cuddle up to the man again and fall back to sleep, but ranch work was never done. Even at one in the morning.
“W-sat?” Dale muttered, still mostly asleep.
“Grady called—there’s fencing down and cattle are in the road. I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” After kissing Dale’s bare shoulder, Jeremiah swung his legs over the side of the bed, while swiping the screen on his phone. He opened his contacts, preparing to wake his foreman up.
“’lright.” Dale climbed from the bed, stumbling a little. “I’ll come help.”
“Baby, no, go back to sleep. We got this,” Jeremiah protested, waiting as the phone rang and rang. Anthony was a notoriously heavy sleeper, and he fully expected to need to call several times before the man finally heard the ringing. Maybe it would be faster to just go pound on the door of his cabin.
“Shut up.”
Dale was apparently a grumpy brute when he got woken up in the middle of the night. Chuckling at the adorable, bear-like growling noises his lover was emitting, Jeremiah gave up on calling Anthony and stood to get dressed.
“Shutting up. If you want to haul your ass out of my big, warm, comfy bed to help me chase cattle, fine. Who am I to stop you?”
Dale glared at him before raising an eyebrow while pulling on his pants—sans boxers. Damn the man. “Who indeed? Let’s go, cowboy. Get a move on. I want to get back into that big, warm, comfy bed with you as soon as possible.”
“Yes, please.”
Less than ten minutes later, after waking the hands and banging on Anthony’s door until it opened, they pulled their ATVs out onto the road, turning left toward the flashing red and blue lights of Grady’s vehicle. Jeremiah slowed down, carefully scanning the fence as he did. It was easy to find the break, not only from the few dozen cows milling around the hole, but by the two fence posts that had been torn from the ground, as well as the wire being cut. This was no accidental break—someone had deliberately done it. If a driver had lost control of their vehicle and hit the fence, the posts would’ve been knocked further into the pasture and not where they were, lying on the shoulder of the road.
