Page 21 of Ashes of the Past
“Dad,” I sigh. “We need all the hands we can get.”
“We’ve been paying him, feeding and housing him, for him to drink beer and mess things up. We tried and tried to help him out, and we tried to give him the benefit of the doubt and hope he’d get his act together. You don’t owe him or Clay anything.”
I inhale sharply. I hear the words that are coming out of his mouth. I even agree with them, but I know that Clay will not.
As if on cue, my phone begins ringing, and Clay’s name flashes on the screen.
I let out a long grumble and silence the call.
I am not in the mood to deal with him.
Jack Renfrew just made my life a lot harder by getting rid of Lane. My ex will be out for blood now, but only because his brother is now his problem.
Chapter Eight
Jack
The barn is quiet the following morning, the kind of quiet that lets me think. After the blow-up with Lane, I needed this—a moment to breathe and get my head straight. I grab a pitchfork and start cleaning out one of the stalls, letting the rhythmic motion ground me.
The sound of boots on dirt pulls me out of my thoughts. I glance over my shoulder to see Paulo approaching, his hat in his hands and a sheepish look on his face.
“Hey, boss,” he says, stopping a few feet away.
I straighten, leaning the pitchfork against the wall. “Paulo. What’s up?”
He hesitates, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Just wanted to say… thanks. For firing Lane.”
That catches me off guard. I raise an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
Paulo shrugs, his eyes dropping to the ground. “He was… well, you saw how he was. Always slacking off, acting like he ranthe place just because he’s related to the Castings. The rest of us, we’re here to work. He wasn’t.”
I chuckle under my breath, shaking my head. “Didn’t expect to hear that, but noted. You’re welcome.”
I’m still so angry about him hitting the horse that I’m ready to come unraveled. That kid is lucky that I didn’t punch him in the face like he did to the horse and that I restrained myself so the sheriff didn’t come out here.
Paulo nods, but he doesn’t leave. Instead, he follows me as I head toward the tack room. I grab a brush and head over to one of the mares, ready to start grooming her. Paulo hangs back, fidgeting with his hat.
“Something else on your mind?” I ask, glancing at him.
He hesitates again, his eyes darting around the barn. Finally, he sighs and nods toward the mare I’m working on. “That cut on her leg… you seen it?”
I crouch down, running my hand gently over the mare’s front leg until I find it—a jagged gash running just above her knee. It’s not fresh, but it’s deep, and the edges are red and angry. My jaw tightens.
“What happened?” I ask, keeping my voice even.
Paulo doesn’t answer right away. His silence makes me look up at him, and I don’t miss the way his eyes flick toward the barn door like he’s worried someone might overhear.
“Paulo,” I press, my tone sharper. “What happened? Did Lane do that? That wasn’t the first time he hit one of the horses?”
He sighs again, his shoulders slumping. “He’s dangerous. He’s hit the horses, the cattle, the dog. He’s threatened all of us, too.”
I audibly growl. I sit back on my heels, my hands curling into fists. “Lane did this?” I ask, my voice shaking with anger.
Paulo nods, his face pale. “He got mad at her for spooking while he was trying to saddle her. Took a piece of wire and… well, there you go.”
I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to throw something—or someone. I should’ve decked that little punk when I had the chance. Instead, I just reaffirm what I already know: firing him was the best decision I’ve made since stepping onto this ranch.
“Damn it,” I mutter, shaking my head. I stand and pull my phone from my pocket, scrolling through my contacts until I find the number I need. “Why didn’t you say anything to John or Brynn?”
