The Lonely Heart (6 page)

Grady cracked up, almost snorting soda out his nose. “He didn’t.”

“Oh, I kid you not.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Tommy protested.

“Hardly. The ‘woe is me’ part is an actual quote, if you may recall.”

Tommy shrugged. “All right, so I might have been a little peeved.”

“You covered Joseph’s bed in mayonnaise.”

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THE LONELY HEART K.M. Mahoney 36

Grady snorted again, spilling his drink. He grabbed a napkin. When he was finished dabbing, Josh snatched it. He, too, was laughing loudly.

“How much mayonnaise did that take?” Grady asked, still chuckling.

Tommy shrugged, his own smile a bit wild and wicked. “Only about five jars.”

“The industrial size,” Micah corrected.

“I assume Joseph took the padlock off after that?”

“Nope,” Tommy stated cheerfully. “He did yell a lot, though.”

“Tommy went in through the window,” Micah said.

“Dang near got stuck, too. They just don’t make windows big enough these days.”

“That’s because they expect most sane people to use the door,” Micah teased.

“Who said I was sane?”

“You telling that story again?”

Their little group turned, none of them having heard Isaiah and Joseph join the party.

“What story?” Tommy asked innocently, looking at the pair with wide eyes. It was an odd look for him—the man was simply too large and muscular to pull off the innocent look with any success.

“The Great Kitchen War,” Isaiah drawled with dry humour.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Tommy smiled. “I like that, it has style.”

Joseph was the only member of the group not smiling. In fact, his scowl was quite fierce. “Don’t remind me,” he said. “I dang near broke my neck sliding on mayonnaise. It gets damned slippery on top of a wooden floor.”

Tommy shrugged. “What can I say? It was a messy job. So I might have spilled a little bit.”

“A little—”

“All right, boys, that’s enough.” Isaiah broke in before the argument could escalate.

Putting Joseph and Tommy together was a little like throwing gasoline on a lit fire.

They fed off each other, Tommy doing his best to irritate and Joseph taking the bait. Joseph had quite the temper and no one was able to prick it with quite as much success as Tommy.

Isaiah got Joseph calmed down with the impressive ease of long-standing practice. The rest of their break was spent in companionable conversation. Josh snuggled in next to his big brother when the wind picked up, very much a part of the gang. Grady was proud of his men. They were good guys, one and all, going out of their way to make sure Josh was www.total-e-bound.com

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included in the conversation as much as possible. And Josh, for his part, contributed with his expressive face and even more expressive hand gestures. They should have a game night some time. Josh would be deadly at Charades.

Grady and Josh had grown pretty close lately. They spent the majority of each day together, doing odd jobs around the ranch. Heck, the kid was even helping him out with some of the computer work. Grady didn’t do much of it. Isaiah was the ranch’s business manager and handled most of the records, finances—all the pesky details that made up Grady’s head throb. For only being ten, Josh was amazingly good. He had been helping Grady sort mail and print out schedules. Grady was actually dreading when Josh started school.

It would be quiet around the yard during the day. Lonely. Again.

Isaiah grinned, watching his brother interact with the guys. It was good to see the little boy so happy. In the past two weeks, Isaiah had been getting glimpses into what Josh’s life had been like, and he didn’t like it. In fact, it made him furious. Josh seemed so eager to soak up any little bit of praise and seemed surprised when anyone included him in conversations or asked his opinion on something. That school of Josh’s had clearly done its best, but he’d been shocked to find out exactly how many students attended, most of them year-round.

Josh had simply been lost in the shuffle.

Josh was, in Isaiah’s opinion, amazing. The kid might not be able to tell stories, but he certainly liked to write them. They would sprawl in the living room at the bunkhouse in the evenings after supper, Isaiah on the couch and Josh in the huge armchair that swallowed his small frame. They’d pull out their battered notebook and talk, Josh writing down his thoughts for Isaiah. Josh had a turn of phrase that never failed to make Isaiah smile, although sometimes that smile was a bit sad, loneliness clear behind the generally light-hearted words.

Josh did pretty darn well with ASL, too. Isaiah, however, was still learning. Isaiah had gone online and loaded up on books and instructional videos to learn sign language, determined to be able to talk to his brother. He was making good progress, although sometimes his motions would send Josh off into fits of laughter.

Grady leaned close, briefly distracting Isaiah with his warm presence. Isaiah had to bite back a groan when he realised he was taking deep breaths. A man who had spent all day in a stable shouldn’t smell so good. Arousal was tingling at the base of his spine. Isaiah shifted, www.total-e-bound.com

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completely unsettled, and tried to stuff the feelings back down. He hadn’t let his ill-advised attraction to Grady be an issue since the first couple of months he’d worked at the ranch.

“He’s settling in real well, isn’t he,” Grady whispered into Isaiah’s ear, the warm breath sending a shiver rippling along Isaiah’s skin.

“That he is,” Isaiah agreed on automatic pilot. He was just too distracted to be putting together sentences. Everyone else was pretty much finished eating, while he’d barely touched his own lunch. Grady and Josh would head back to the ranch pretty soon.

“Oh,” Grady said abruptly. “You got a call this morning from the principal over at Barton. I wrote the number down back at the house.”

“Shit, I was waiting for that one.” Isaiah pulled his phone out and started scrolling through the call list, hoping he hadn’t erased it recently. Unlikely, but he never knew. Ah, there it was.

Isaiah nodded and nudged Josh. “I’m gonna go make a phone call, buddy. Why don’t you help Micah clean up?”

Isaiah hopped off the back of the truck, leaving Josh eagerly assisting Micah.

Isaiah strode out of earshot and hit the call button.

He had arrangements to make. Best to quit putting them off.

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Isaiah dropped the box on the floor, his exaggerated groan accompanied by the sound of something breaking. “I think that’s the last of it,” he said, straightening. He put his hands on his back and stretched. He could fix fences all day and only get a pleasant ache in his muscles. Two hours of hauling junk across the yard and he could barely move.

“I would sincerely hope so,” Grady replied dryly. “My question is how the hell did you get all this crap in that small room?”

“Damned if I know,” Isaiah replied. It was ridiculous. When he had started packing things up and had realised how much junk he’d accumulated over the last eight years, it was a bit shocking. The closet had been like that fabled bottomless pit. No matter how much he had pulled out of it, more had kept coming. Add in the stuff scattered all over the room he’d been sharing with Josh and he felt like a blasted hoarder. Half of it was probably going straight into the trash when he unpacked, that was for sure.

“You sure about this?” Isaiah asked, probably for the fifth time. He couldn’t seem to help it.

“Of course I’m sure,” Grady retorted. “The bunkhouse is fine for the guys, but not for a kid. I’ve got the space. It’s logical, damn it, so quit fussing.”

Isaiah chuckled. “Right. Sorry. I am fussing, aren’t I?”

“Like a damned spinster.”

“Gee, thanks.” Isaiah laughed again, shaking his head. He shoved a couple of shoe boxes aside with his foot, clearing a path so he could drop onto the bed. “Need help with anything? It’s gotta be a bit unsettling, having us move in and take over.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

Grady looked around the room and shuffled his feet, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. They’d spent the past couple of hours in enjoyable companionship, but Grady seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden.

“Umm, maybe I’ll go see how Josh is settling in,” he said.

Isaiah snorted. “The kid escaped to the stables about twenty minutes after we started.

He got his DVD collection unpacked and took off.”

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“At least he’s got his priorities straight.”

Isaiah laughed again, pleased when Grady joined in this time. The man’s laughter had been a bit lacking of late. At first, Isaiah had thought maybe it was because he’d regretted offering them a place, but if anything, his boss seemed eager to get them settled. With that worry put aside, Isaiah had figured Grady was just in one of his moods. It looked like he was right. Isaiah greeted the thought without much relief, though. He didn’t like it when Grady was moping. Didn’t seem…right, or something.

With school approaching, it had suddenly hit Isaiah—Josh’s presence was permanent, not just a summer vacation. Funny how it hadn’t really sunk in. At least, not until he started making plans with the school principal. Isaiah loved his life on the ranch, didn’t want to quit, and really didn’t want to drive in from town every day. But he damned sure couldn’t raise a kid in a bunkhouse. When Grady offered them both a place in the main house, Isaiah had taken him up on it. Though he still wasn’t certain they weren’t being a huge imposition and completely disrupting his boss’s life. Again.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

Isaiah looked up sharply at Grady’s stern voice. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re worrying again. Stop. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. So quit being an idiot.”

Isaiah chuckled. “That might take some doing. I seem to excel at idiocy.”

“You do not.” The words were harsher and more emphatic than Isaiah’s joking intent called for. It startled him and he looked closely at Grady. Grady’s face had paled a bit, eyes dark.

Isaiah didn’t quite know how to respond. Grady seemed to shake off whatever emotions had gripped him and offered another smile, although this one was still a bit rough around the edges.

“You got time to go over the monthly statements?” Grady asked.

Isaiah let him change the subject—he wasn’t quite sure what to do about the earlier conversation, anyway. He really hoped Grady worked through his issues soon. He felt like he had to walk softly around his boss, for fear of stepping on a conversational landmine. And carry a big stick for when the man started talking nonsense.

“Sure. This crap can wait.” Isaiah kicked another item in his collection of boxes, giving it a fierce and annoyed scowl.

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The two men tromped downstairs and Isaiah slowed his steps a bit so he could ogle.

Damn, Grady made a pair of jeans look good. That butt was a thing of beauty.

Isaiah cursed mentally at himself as they entered the study. It was obviously way past time he got laid. The fantasies were taking on a life of their own. Grady might be pretty oblivious most of the time, but even he was bound to notice something soon. Especially if Isaiah kept following him around, drooling over his ass.

The office was technically Grady’s, but as the ranch’s business manager, Isaiah seemed to spend more time there than anyone. It was a huge room, much larger than either man really needed. Grady had told him once it had actually been two rooms, until he’d had a wall knocked out. The massive L-shaped desk took up nearly half the space, leaving enough room for a long table that doubled as a wet bar and a leather couch. Isaiah had caught Grady sleeping on said couch more than once before. But hell, the thing was more comfortable than a lot of mattresses Isaiah had encountered.

Isaiah dropped into the oversized desk chair, swivelling it until he faced the large computer monitor. Grady perched on the edge of the desk, propping his boot heels on the window sill. It was a setup as familiar as the room itself. They’d spent hours in here, going over strategies and plans. Grady knew the ranching business, inside and out, but he was really weird about touching the computer. As in, he didn’t. When Isaiah had first been hired, the records had been a God-awful mess. It had taken him nearly two months just to figure out a system and bring the records up to date. To be perfectly honest, it had looked almost like Grady hadn’t even bothered with records at all. How the man had paid his taxes before Isaiah came was anyone’s guess.

“So what’s the damage this month?” Grady asked.

“Actually, we’re looking pretty good. But we need to get the southern herd shipped off.

Right now they’re just eating up cash.”

“How soon can we move them?”

“Not until Joseph gets back.” Joseph served more as the foreman than Isaiah did most of the time, but he hated to be solely responsible for decisions. Any decisions. As long as Isaiah was around to give Joseph the go-ahead and approve plans and changes, Joseph did fine. Leave him in charge by himself, and he floundered around like a fish out of water, hemmed and hawed, and generally drove himself—and everyone else—insane second-guessing everything.

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Send the man to auction, though, and he was brilliant.

“Do we need to consider adding someone to the payroll?” Grady asked. “It seems like it’s been tight around here lately.”

“Nah, I think we’re fine. We just need to get this last bunch off to market and things will settle down.”