I marched out of the office without waiting to see if he’d follow, but I definitely crossed my fingers while I walked towards what I’d seen earlier.
Clint’s long legs caught up to mine easily, but he didn’t ask where we were going.
We stopped by a big enclosure full of men and sheep, milling around, the men checking the sheep for mites. It was a tedious job that required a lot of wrestling and sending sheep from one pen to another, but it was better than letting mites take over.
I smiled and nodded at the men, but turned to Clint.
“Look at Will,” I said. “He’s doing okay, but, hell, Johnny does better with the sheep, and Johnny is barely sixteen and scrawny. Will is competent, but he’ll never be great like you or Clint, and he knows it. He was great at his last job, and he’s middle of the pack here, he doesn’t get to use his brain like he used to and he’s bored and miserable.”
Clint grunted.
“You told me once that you paid Will to be smart,” I insisted. “Let Will be smart for you. Do right by him, because he hates this, and Brandon loves him. You’ll lose them both in another couple of years.”
He turned away from the fence and headed slowly back to his office. I followed, and when we got halfway back, he stopped.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to tell me how to run my ranch,” he said, quietly.
“I’m not telling you as a USDA inspector. I’m not even telling you this as a know-it-all agriculture major. I’m telling you this as your girlfriend, because I want you and Brandon and Will to be happy, and I want you to have more time to spend with me and less time sitting at your desk getting mad,” I said.
He nodded and turned on his heel, heading back towards the enclosure.
“Will,” he called. “Get outta there and come to my office.”
I started back towards the house, but Clint said “Oh, no, Naomi. You started this, you’re going to stick by me and see it through, aren’t you?”
I winced and nodded.
Hoping that I hadn’t put my foot in it completely, I walked back to the ranch office with a silent Clint and confused Will.
When we got back to the small room, Clint gestured each of us to a chair and sat behind the desk.
He stared at us both for a minute.
“What’s up, Clint?” Will asked. He was starting to look a little concerned.
“Naomi tells me that you’re miserable, because you’ll never be better than average as a hand, and you’re used to being outstanding,” Clint said. “She said you were bored and you were going to leave the ranch and Brandon would follow you, and I’d be all alone with a pile of paperwork and too many sheep.”
I winced again.
“Thanks, Clint,” I muttered. I turned to look at Will. “Sorry, I did phrase it much more tactfully than that.”
Will shrugged.
“No,” he said, “That’s about right. I am definitely bored and I know I don’t want to wrestle sheep for the rest of my damn life.”
Clint nodded. “You ever do spreadsheets?” he asked.
The other man frowned at him. “I worked at a bank for a few years before I did reporting, and I’m a neat freak,” he said. “I make spreadsheets to pack for vacation.”
“Good,” Clint said, and stood up. Will and I stood up, too. Clint walked around the desk and took Will by the shoulder, giving him a gentle shove towards the larger chair behind the desk. Clint’s chair.
Clint sat in the chair Will had just vacated, and grinned.
“I think I like this side of the desk,” he said. “Will, you want to take a turn at that side? Get out of the sun and do some of that blasted paperwork?”
Will eyed the ranch owner suspiciously.
“What’s your plan here, Clint?” he asked.