Page 18 of Ashes of the Past
“You can’t do that.”
“You get fed, you have a roof over your head, you have internet, and you get more than a fair day’s wage to work on this ranch. And instead of doing the labor that you’re so graciously paid to do, you’re in here playing grab ass while your boss is losing money.”
“We took a break for five minutes.”
“While your boss’s daughter was up with the sun to go out to the north pasture by herself to repair the fence.By herself.Not one of you was awake at that time to help if she’d gotten into trouble.”
The horse starts sniffing Lane. He keeps batting it away before he turns and swings his fist toward her head. I instantly react as I lunge for him, grabbing his arm just as it glances off the horse’s head.
“That’s on her,” Lane says as he rolls his eyes. He looks around at the other ranch hands. “My brother always said she wasn’t too bright, but she could suck—”
“Lane, you’re fired,” I hiss as I grab him by the back of the shirt and throw him out of the stall and onto the ground. Hescurries up quickly, and I get up on his face. Paulo immediately goes into the stall with the horse.
“You can’t fire me.”
“I just did. You’re not going to abuse a horse. I can call the sheriff and have you arrested. You’re also not going to disrespect Brynn or anyone else on this ranch.”
He chuckles and shakes his head, a smirk. “This won’t last. Sheriff won’t do shit. Brynn and the old man won’t let me be fired. I’m family.”
“Get your things and go,” I growl.
He rolls his eyes and surprisingly walks out of the barn.
That went better than I thought it would.
“This stops now,” I say, stepping back and addressing the group as a whole. “Things are about to change around here. If you can’t do your jobs—if you can’t take pride in your work and take responsibility for this ranch—I have no problem firing every single one of you. Do I make myself clear?”
There’s a murmur of agreement, but it’s not enough. “I said, do I make myself clear?” I bark.
“Yes, sir,” they answer in unison, their voices subdued.
“Good.” I point to the boards on the ground. “Get those loaded up and out of the way. Get your normal work done, but that fence needs to be checked and reinforced along the entire line. That takes priority. And if I see one more thing out of place—one more sign that you’re slacking off—you’re done. All of you.”
With that, I turn on my heel and walk out of the barn, my fists clenched at my sides. My heart is pounding, and my head is a mess of anger, frustration, and something else I don’t want to name.
As I head back toward the house to talk to John, the image of Brynn flashes in my mind again—her wide eyes, her flushedcheeks, the way her lips felt against mine. I curse under my breath, running a hand through my hair.
I can’t afford to let her get under my skin. Not now. Not ever.
Chapter Seven
Brynn
Istep inside the house, knowing that Olivia and Dad are probably hanging out already. My dad’s voice carries from the living room, sharp and agitated.
“Larsa? Is that you?”
My heart sinks and tears prick at my eyes. Larsa was my mom’s name.
“Dad?” I ask as I poke my head into the living room.
“Where’s your mom?” he demands. “She was supposed to bring me coffee.”
“Dad, it’s me, Brynn,” I say gently. “Mom’s not here.”
He blinks at me, confusion clouding his eyes. Then he shakes his head and mutters, “Right. Of course.”
Olivia looks up from her book, her brow furrowed with worry. She’s too young to carry the weight of what’s happening to her grandfather, but she’s old enough to understand that something’s wrong.
