A Subtle Breeze Bailey Bradford (ebook reader play store .TXT) 📖

not your fault, babe, not at all,” he told Brendon. Facing Charlie and Miguel, he explained to them what had happened, from the drive through town to the calls from Eva—omitting, of course, what had transpired between them in Gloria’s house. Charlie spat on the ground in disgust as Doc Michaels finally pulled up.

“Zeke, I know that woman is your sister and all, but she is just a…”

Miguel smacked Charlie on the back hard enough to make the man stumble slightly.

“Uh, she is just a mean, vindictive person,” Charlie finished and glared at Miguel, who shrugged in return.

“Charlie.” Zeke waited until the man looked at him. “I know what Eva is, believe me, she made sure I had no illusions about her. But this isn’t about her—” he hoped—“so tell me what the hell happened.”

Doc Michaels walked over to the group. He glanced at Zeke and Brendon, greeting them as though seeing the men together was an everyday occurrence. Zeke didn’t quite know what to make of it. He’d expected some sort of censure.

“So what is going on? Miguel said you got about sixty head, at least, that he is pretty sure you’re going to lose?” Doc Michaels glanced back at Miguel for confirmation then turned back to Zeke.

“Seems the cattle got into something in the south pasture. I haven’t made it out there yet, but Charlie and Miguel said it’s bad. Pasture was cleared, and the tank… Miguel, did you check the tank yet?” Zeke knew Miguel had been busy, but there was always a chance.

“Yes, sir. Everything seemed fine, but I don’t know if that means anything, Doc?”

Doc Michaels shook his head. “Have to send a sample off for testing. Let’s get going.” He took a step, then turned back to Zeke and Brendon, thrusting out a hand as he smiled. “I’m Doc Michaels, by the way, since someone didn’t bother with introductions,” he teased, laughing when Zeke felt his cheeks warm with embarrassment. Damn it, he’d been thinking about cattle and Eva and everything but manners.

Brendon grinned as he took the man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Doc Michaels. I’m Brendon Shanahan, and I’m sure Zeke just has too much on his plate to think about introductions right now.”

Zeke grunted, feeling all kinds of a fool. The cattle were important, sure, but not more important than the man at his side.

“I’m just teasing you, Zeke, you have every right to be rattled.” Doc Michaels patted Zeke’s shoulder. Zeke wondered how he had never noticed the kindness in Doc’s eyes before. It shamed him to realize he’d only been seeing what he expected to. How many other people had he judged in such a way? And didn’t that make him as bad as Eva? It was something he would have to think about once this was taken care of.

Brendon squeezed his hand, pulling Zeke out of his self-recriminations. “If it’s okay, I’d like to throw on my boots and come along. Maybe I can help somehow.”

Zeke wasn’t sure he wanted Brendon to see a bunch of sick and dying animals, but those determined brown eyes met his, and any thought at arguing died in Zeke’s throat.

“All right, but it’s going to be bad, Brendon.” Worse than bad, he was sure.

Brendon nodded, squeezing his hand once more before heading into the house. Zeke turned back to the three men waiting in the yard, watching him with various expressions of amusement. He felt the tips of his ears burn.

“We, ah, can take three vehicles, if you all want. Otherwise, Charlie and Miguel, you two will be bouncing along in the truck bed.” And that would knock those smirks right off their faces.

“They can ride with me, if you don’t mind, Zeke,” Doc Michaels offered. “Doubt I will be leaving before them anyways.”

Brendon dashed out of the screen door, long-sleeved shirt dangling over one arm and one pant leg tucked into his boot in his hurry to get ready. Zeke thought about pointing it out, but the man looked like such a hot mess he decided to let it be.

He nodded at his ranch hands, indicating they should load up with Doc and led Brendon to the ranch truck. Once inside, Zeke reached over and stroked Brendon’s cheek.

“You sure you want to do this? No one is going to think less of you if you don’t.” And he really didn’t want his man seeing the horror he feared was waiting for them. Brendon reached up and cupped Zeke’s hand, holding it to his cheek.

“I would think less of me, Zeke,” he murmured. “No matter how bad it is, I’ll be there.” Brendon turned his face and placed a kiss on Zeke’s palm before letting it go. Zeke nodded, too touched to say anything right then. Brendon hadn’t been talking about just this, just the cattle. He’d meant so much more, and that more soothed a lonely broken place deep down in Zeke’s soul.

* * * *

Brendon felt his stomach churn and clenched his muscles tight, grinding his teeth in an attempt not to hurl. His intention to spend the day researching panic attacks had been pushed aside for a chorus of ‘I will not throw up, I will not throw up’ looping over and over in his head. The sight of bloody, dying cattle was only a little less upsetting than the sounds the creatures made, which was still not as bad as the smell. He’d been out in the heat—which only made everything worse—helping Zeke in any way he could.

Maybe he should have been offended that his helping had been confined mostly to running back and forth with information between the other four men, or going back to the house and getting drinks, but damn, he knew he couldn’t have handled much more.

Zeke, Doc, Charlie and Miguel—those men were covered in a mixture of manure, blood, saliva and God only knew what else. Still, watching Zeke take charge, sure of himself and doing what needed to