GREED(71)

“This is what we do for our neighbors,” Jonah said smiling.

She patted them once more then let them go.

“If you don’t mind,” Jonah began, “we’d like to get straight to work if that’s okay?”

“Oh, by all means, don’t let me keep you, love.”

He smiled once more and I followed him out and onto the porch.

“They’ve only got a hundred cows here,” Jonah said, scanning the field near the barn and applying his gloves. I pulled mine from my back pocket and followed suit.

“Oh, good, we should be done pretty quickly,” I said, feeling a little invigorated. Jonah looked at me. “What?” I asked.

“We’ve got a ton of work to do here. We’ll be here until late, I think.”

“What? Why?”

“Have you seen the state of this ranch?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So? We’ll have to make all these repairs for them.”

“What in the hell, Jonah? I thought we were just here to help with the herd.”

“We are,” he said, bounding off the front porch and heading toward the barn. “But we’re gonna leave this ranch better than how we found it.”

I shook my head. “That is ludicrous.”

Jonah stopped in his tracks. “Spencer, you afraid of a little work?”

“No,” I said, affronted.

“Then quit your bitching,” he replied, cursing for the first time I’d heard since I met him.

I laughed. “Fine.”

We tended the herd, just like we did at the Hunt Ranch, but in a fraction of the time. Then Jonah made me clean and organize the barn because it was a cluttered mess. We could tell Amos left the tools he needed at a level for easier access so we hung all the tools he didn’t frequently use on the barn wall and did the same for the tools he used often at a level he could reach them.

That took more than three hours alone. I thought we were done, but Jonah decided the floors needed cleaning so we grabbed a broom and a hose, much like we did in the horse stalls when we would clean out the pellets. We scrubbed and rinsed the concrete floor. When all was said and done, it looked like a brand-new barn, save for the holes in the roof where patches of snow were coming through.

“We’re gonna have to tackle that roof,” he said, eyeing the damage.

“How are we going to reach it?” I asked, looking around.

“There’s a ladder built on the outside. We’ll have to gather materials and climb up.”

We searched the barn and found what we needed, then rounded the building searching for the ladder.

“Dude, that looks sketchy,” I said, inspecting the rungs of the old attached ladder. I placed a foot on the first rung and tested my weight. It held. “How are we going to get the wood up there?”

“Tie it up, I guess, and heave it over.”

“Okay,” I said, heading for the barn in search of rope.

We tied the wood and tucked our hammers and nails in our back pockets and hauled the heavy load up and onto the roof.

We were both out of breath when we reached the top. “Damn,” I said, looking down. “That fall would hurt.”

Jonah peeked over the edge. “Can’t disagree.”

We trekked across the snow-covered roof and I almost slipped twice, my heart pounding in my chest. We sat at the first bit that need patching and started working. After five minutes, I broke the silence.

“It’s cold as shit up here.”

I rubbed my gloves back and forth and slapped them together a few times to bring the feeling back into my fingers.

“Duh,” he said.

“Smart ass,” I laughed.

“Jackass.”

“Bridge lover,” I tested.

He looked at me, shocked, his mouth and eyes wide open before busting out into the loudest guffaw.

“Cricket lover,” he bit back.

“What the hell!” I said.

“Oh what? You can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

“I don’t love your cousin, dude.”

“Sure,” he said, rolling his eyes and hammering another nail.

I cleared my throat. “So, do you?” I asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you like my sister?” I asked.

His face flamed red. “I do,” he stated simply.

Hearing it from his own lips made it so much more real to me.

“How much?” I asked, finishing the patched sub-roof.

He looked at me as he dragged over the pile of wood shingles. “Honestly?”

“Yeah,” I said, reaching for a shingle.

He scratched the back of his neck, afraid to spill.

“It’s okay, dude,” I told him.

He sighed. “Too much. Way too much.”

This confused me. “So, uh, do you wish you didn’t or something?”