Summer Sweat (Spruce Texas)

Then he stops by the door to the bunkhouse, drops his huge bag to the ground with a thud, and wipes sweat off his brow with the back of his wrist.

Wait a sec. Is that—?

No fucking way.

“Watch out!” Fred shouts.

I don’t turn quick enough. My waist collides into the fence of the chicken coop, bending me in half. The sack of feed on my shoulder slides straight off and slams to the ground with a loud and dusty crash, sending nearby chickens scattering in a frenzy of feathers and angry clucking.

I stare at the dust cloud in shock as it settles. It takes a minute before I regain my breath. “C-Count the chickens, Fred. Tell me I didn’t turn one into a poultry pancake.”

“You didn’t. It’s alright, Harrison. Phew!” He starts to let out a laugh, then swallows it as he notices the look on my face. “Are ya alright there, pal? You look like you seen a Jimmiwanga.”

I won’t ask what that is. “I’m fine.” I turn back and look at the bunkhouse, but he’s gone inside already.

And now my whole fuckin’ day’s wrecked.

Next thing I know, I’ve burst into Gary’s office like a tornado blowing down a barnyard door. “Tell me it isn’t true,” I demand.

Gary Strong, a tall and slender man with a gray handlebar mustache and the calmest, coolest blue eyes you can imagine, squints at me from his desk. “Hmm?”

“Hoyt?” I bark, pointing at the window through which the bunkhouse is visible across the field. “Hoyt Nowak? He was the ‘promising young man’ you just hired as our summer help?”

Gary slowly folds his arms and leans back in his chair, staring at me in an amused silence, a twinkle in his eyes.

But the last thing I am is amused. “What’s going on? Is this some kind of joke? Sir, with all due respect—”

“Funny, that sayin’,” Gary cuts me off in a soft, tickled voice. “Y’know people always only ever say ‘with all due respect’ just before sayin’ somethin’ disrespectful, insulting, or just straight-up outta line. And you ain’t any one of those three things, Harrison.”

“Sir …”

“So I don’t recommend you say what you was ‘bout to say.” He tilts his head, rekindling that same twinkle in his eyes. “I like you, Harrison. You’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know. And I do reckon you’re gonna need to use a lot of it this summer.”

I don’t like where he’s going with this. I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not. No, no, no.”

“Hoyt is the extra help this place needs. A good pair a’ hands is a good pair a’ hands. He’s gonna need some serious guidance, I know that much, but I think you’re just the—”

“I know how dirty he did Toby,” I cut him off—and I hate how it feels to cut off Gary. “I heard an earful and then some from Tanner to have enough of an idea what a guy like Hoyt is all about. He’s nothin’ good. That cocky little shit is just gonna make all of our lives hell, I’m telling you.”

“He’s had a tough time this past month. You heard about him havin’ just crashed and totaled his truck, haven’t you? Came out of that whole ordeal without a scratch on him, lucky tiger he is.”

“Probably his own fault,” I mutter back. “Heard he was out drinking with his friends.”

“I don’t listen to rumors n’ hearsay, and you shouldn’t either. So he’s stayin’ onsite with the rest of the farmhands. No way to commute. He’s got lots to prove. Friends are all off to university in the fall, leavin’ him behind, since he wasn’t accepted. Boy doesn’t understand UT is likely a pipedream now. Barely got two quarters to rub together. No car. No other prospects. He needs this work.”

I roll my eyes. “Why am I getting his whole sob story?”

After a moment, Gary rises from his chair and strolls over to the window. He stares out of it thoughtfully. “Do you remember twelve years ago?”

“What about twelve years ago?”

“When I hired you.”

I shrug. “Of course I do.”

“I don’t think you do, son. Comin’ straight out of high school yourself, where you stood in my nephew’s ‘Spruce Juice’ shadow out on that football field for four long years, you had all the cock in your walk, ready to prove yourself to be just as big and just as important as Tanner, every day, in and out.” Gary eyes me. “And you did everything wrong. You broke a tractor. Damn near ruined a whole crop. Almost lost one of my horses … or was it two?”

I’m grinding my teeth. “Sir …”

“I think you see my point already, Harrison.” He glances at me. “Give him a chance. I gave you one, didn’t I? He’s had a hard time of it. This is exactly the kinda thing he needs to focus himself.”