Jake (Downton Cowboys #2) - Miley Maine Page 0,2

sheets, vendor invoices, and veterinarian schedules.

Since Buck has a lot of experience from his previous job in Texas, he was the one who taught me most of it. Frankie, on the other hand, was the people person who let me in on some of the tricks and tips for how to win over my employees and gain their loyalty.

Working and concentrating, I barely notice the time, and when I finally raise my head from the last file, I see that the sun is setting outside.

Hastily gathering the files and tossing them in the drawer, I think about what I’m having for dinner.

As soon as I get into the house, and just as I take off my hat and hang it over the hook behind the door, the phone begins to ring.

“Hello?” I answer it, undoing the first couple of buttons on my shirt.

“Jake, how are yah?” It was Frankie.

“I’m good, man. How are you?”

“Alright. Listen, remember you were ravin’ ‘bout your vet the other day?”

“Yeah, Dr. Emmett is the best. What is it?”

“Well, my doc’s got a bad bout o’ the flu. He don’t wanna infect my ranchmen, and I won’t risk it. Think Dr. Emmett might be willin’ to pass by for a routine checkup?”

“Wait, gimme a few minutes. I’ll call ‘im, see if he got a free slot.”

“That’d be ace.”

I hang up and immediately dial Emmett Jefferson’s number. It rings a few times before his wife’s voice greets me.

“Hello?” She’s always cheerful, that woman.

“Hello, Tina. Jake here. How are yah and the boys?”

“Oh, all great Mr. Downton. You wanna speak with Emmett?”

Before I have the chance to respond, the sound muffles and I hear “Emmett! Emmett, it’s Jake Downton on the phone.”

A few muffled murmurs follow and he takes the receiver.

“Hello, cowboy.” He chuckles. “Tell me it ain’t the birth already ‘cause I’m ‘bout to eat.”

“No, no.” I chuckle. “It’s more of a favor, really. My brother, Frankie, needs a checkup for his herd. His doc’s down with somethin’.”

“Oh yeah, old Levi. I’ve always warned ‘im ‘bout the long walks at night at his age. Lucky he’s got Betty takin’ care o’ him.” He paused. “Sure thing, have Frankie call me and we’ll work it out.”

“Thank you so much, Doc. See you soon.”

Barefoot, I walk over and make my way up the stairs. When I make it to the bedroom, I let my jeans drop to the floor as I toss the shirt onto them, sliding down my boxers as I step into the shower.

As lucky as I consider myself, having been given this great home and farm to work on and make a living, Emmett’s words ring in my head. Yes, Levi is lucky to have his wife of thirty years still by his side. Not only does she accept his whacky work hours, but she also accommodates his strange hobbies and the aftermath that follows.

After all these years, she takes care of him when he’s sick.

While the water rains over me, I catch a thought lingering in the back of my mind.

Will I ever have that?

A woman so faithful and loyal to stick around through thick and thin, love me at my best yet look after me at my worst.

Shaking my head, I—once again—recall the gorgeous Belle and the way she briefly showed me a great deal of tenderness and care after my fateful drop.

After a long, hot scrubbing, I go downstairs and eat dinner alone. I think about my brothers and how each of them seems to have his life figured out. But then again, what do I know? The way the Downton men dealt with trouble or emotion is far too complicated to decipher, and I have long learned to accept the things they say at face value.

My life, if I think about it, seems perfect to the outside world. But the scars my father left me with go far beyond gnarled discolored physical tissue. They rendered me apprehensive and cautious.

Too cautious for my own good, if you ask me.

I finish dinner and take the dishes to the sink. After a few minutes of contemplation, I decide to go upstairs and listen to some tunes while I clear my head.

Everything is so confusing. It has been since she appeared in my life.

At my home office, I flick on the side lamp and settle in the chair by the record collection. My fingers sift through one, two, three records, all by Hank Williams.

“God,” I whisper to myself, shaking my head as I struggle to decide