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where she’d be staying.

“You’re gonna put a woman in the bunkhouse with me?” Max burst out before

thinking. The unwanted image of Gloria Steinem driving a spike through his balls flashed through his head and he cringed. “I don’t mean it bad, just…” He couldn’t figure out a good way to finish that sentence, so he shut up.

Chance snickered and slapped him on the back. “I know what you mean, it isn’t

something that you’ve ever had happen to you, but neither is working for a gay man and his partner, is it? I’d think a woman in the bunkhouse would be easier to accept…” Chance paused and gave him a considering look. “Or maybe you’re worried about something happening there?”

Max could feel the blush burning his cheeks, but he looked Chance straight in the eyes.

“No, sir, I wouldn’t dare mess with Rory’s sister. I like my job.”

“Well, then.” Chance grinned, and Max felt more than a little trepidation shoot down his spine. “Looks like you’re getting a bunkhouse-mate.” With that and a wink, he walked over to Rory and pulled his lover aside, effectively shutting down Rory’s rant.

Annabelle glanced his way and Max nodded, letting his usual grin slip into place. She bounced down the porch steps and jogged towards Max.

“I’m sorry about the pissing contest,” Annabelle said as soon as she was close enough to be heard easily. “I wouldn’t have thought my brother would be so old-fashioned.”

“I’m sure he was just worried about you,” Max replied, then wondered exactly what it was Rory had objected to. The idea of his sister living with Max? Or was it just that he wanted better for Annabelle than a bunkhouse?

“Do you have a problem with it?” Annabelle’s eyes were as dark a blue as her brother’s, and she held Max in place with the power of her midnight gaze.

Max wanted to be diplomatic, and not make Rory or Annabelle mad. He didn’t really have a problem with a woman sharing the bunkhouse with him—it wasn’t like he found Annabelle attractive, though she was cute and everything. It’d just surprised him, but as MILES TO GO

Bailey Bradford

19

Chance had said, it was actually easy to accept. “It ain’t up to me, but if you decide that the bunkhouse is where you want to stay, I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Good, because I’d rather you be comfortable than not,” Annabelle replied. Max took that to mean she would have stayed in the bunkhouse even if he had spoken out against it.

But I didn’t, and who knows, maybe it would be nice to have someone else around. Although what we’ll talk about other than work is beyond me. Come to think of it, it might not be any different than before. Max wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, because sometimes, if he was honest with himself, he almost ached to have someone to be close to.

Annabelle living there wouldn’t change that at all. She was a nice young lady and all, but there wasn’t any spark, and Max wasn’t hoping for one anyway. There would probably be some polite conversation, and Annabelle would almost surely want to eat dinner with Rory and Chance most nights, so Max would be alone. As he glanced back at Rory and Chance huddled together on the porch, their arms tangled around each other and both of them looking so… happy, Max tried to tell himself that being alone was what he’d always wanted, or at least what was best for him.

The problem was he couldn’t seem to believe it quite so firmly anymore. He

acknowledged the truth of that thought—and damned if he didn’t blame it for what happened a few days later.

MILES TO GO

Bailey Bradford

20

Chapter Two

Max was in the North field doing one of his least favourite tasks—repairing the fence.

They’d had a storm blow through the night before that had been more wind than rain—a lot more wind. He was guessing that might have something to do with the tree he’d found on the smashed fence. The result was that Max had got to play with the chainsaw first before tackling the repair job.

Using the chainsaw was almost worth having to fix the fence. There was just something fun about it, and the concentration it took to keep from cutting off his limbs kept his mind from wandering in directions he’d rather it not go. Lately his mind seemed determined to think of Bo at odd times—Max snorted. Right. Odd being most of the time. He’d given up freaking out about it and put it down to having a real—he hoped—friend for the first time in a very long time. Sure, Rory, Chance and Annabelle were kind of friends, but Chance was his boss, and Rory was too, and Annabelle was related to Rory. It wasn’t quite the same thing, and even though he hadn’t seen Bo since they’d ate dinner together at Cowboy’s, they had talked on the phone a couple of times, and it had been…nice.

“And I’m just wasting time,” Max muttered. He got the chainsaw started and forced his attention on keeping his parts attached like he preferred them. All too soon he had the tree cut into pieces he could load into the truck bed by himself. He might not be the tallest, buffest looking guy around, but he had a surprising strength. It didn’t take long for him to load up the soon-to-be firewood. Now he only had the fence left to deal with, and he tried to get himself motivated.

“Quicker I get started, the sooner I’m done with this.” That didn’t really help one damn bit. Max knew he’d never make it as a motivational speaker, and besides, someone had taken his personal motto and made it into a shoe slogan— Just Do It!

He wasn’t doing ‘it’ or anything else as he stood there holding the ground down. Max sighed and wondered what was wrong with him—he never

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