Get Bucked (The Valentine Boys 4)

“You could’ve given us a notice,” Ace continued the berating. “I mean, we were going to need your help to move cows next week. That’s not something that’s just going to be done with three people since we gave the hands the weekend off with the holiday coming up. That’s going to be Thursday to Sunday at least.”

I gritted my teeth.

“I don’t even start until next month,” I pointed out. “And I told you as soon as I’d gotten confirmation from the forestry service,” I paused. “And I was happy to accept because for once I could actually make some good money and apply it to the ranch.”

“We don’t need your money, Darby,” Callum growled. “We need you.”

That’s when I exploded.

“You need me? What did you think was going to happen when I graduated?” I laughed. “You only use me for the shit jobs that y’all don’t want to do,” I remind. “You have me muck the stalls.” I gave each of my brothers a look. “When was the last time y’all did that? Willingly?”

They didn’t have an answer.

“The last time I had any bit of help with that at all was when Candy helped without even being asked to,” I snapped.

None of them said a word.

“And,” I continued, “the last thing that y’all had me do outside of mucking the stalls or running and repairing fence? Euthanizing a cow.” I paused. “You had me do that, bury it, and cover it back up all by myself. When was the last goddamn time y’all did that by yourselves?”

Never.

Because it was a two-person job most of the time.

“Y’all didn’t give a shit if I had to go to school.” I flicked up my hand. “You complained if I took a gig out of town meaning y’all would have to muck out a stall for once,” I continued. “Not to mention that Banks was at the same goddamn thing, so it wasn’t like it was just me gone. And I never fucking hear y’all giving him shit for that.”

Candy shifted on her feet, looking as if she was partway in agreement with that.

“I do everything I can around here,” I said. “I get up at four in the morning. I go to school. I come home. I do more bullshit that y’all don’t want to do. Then, when you’re done ordering me around, I come home and study.” I paused. “Ask me the last time I went out on a fucking date.”

Nobody had anything to say to that.

“It’s been six years,” I said. “And it’s been eight since I’ve done anything stupid. I think it’s time to start seeing me as an adult. One that has not fucked up in a while.” I looked each of my three furious brothers in the face. “Sorry if I wanted to find a place where I was actually going to make a difference.” I clenched my fists. “And I never said I wouldn’t do the bullshit that y’all didn’t want to do. I still will, you know. Even if I’m not living here anymore.”

With that, I turned on my heels and left.

Fuck graduating.

Fuck them.

Fuck this house.

Fuck everything.Chapter 6

Call me boring, but I want a simple wedding. No fancy hall, no expensive dress, no food, no guests. No husband.

-Text from Waylynn to Darby

Waylynn

I never expected to find Darby at a bar at two in the morning, but I also never expected to find myself at a bar at two in the morning.

The man behind the bar looked up, seeming relieved to see me.

“You Waylynn?” he asked curiously.

I nodded my head.

“This here fella needs a ride home,” the bartender said. “I’m not sure if you’re the one who needs to be called, but you’re the first contact and last call I found in his phone, so you got the call.”

He’d called me earlier to make sure that I’d gotten home all right after helping at the Apache.

It’d been sweet of him at the time.

Now, after being woken up after only an hour of sleep? Not so much.

Especially since I’d told GQ that I’d be there early in the morning to help him before it got too hot out.

I eyed the hunched over man at the bar twirling his beer bottle as if it was the most entertaining thing in the world, then looked at the bartender one more time.

“He say to call me?” I wondered.

I mean, I highly doubted that he’d want me there at all to witness him in this state.

Darby was a very private man.

It felt like an invasion of his privacy to see him like this.

“Not necessarily,” the bartender said. “But seriously, let me help you get him out to your truck…”

I was already shaking my head.

“I don’t have a truck,” I told him.

“Well,” the bartender said, “I have keys to his truck. Let me help you get him out to his.”