looked just the same, if a little smaller than he remembered—but then he’d always felt that way after Travis outgrew it and moved to a crib at six months. His chest hollowed with longing at the memory, and yet an echo of long-ago joy reverberated through him as he ran his hands over the smooth cherry-stained oak.
The last time Joe had actually seen it, three-year-old Travis had found it in their storage room when Caroline was in there looking for the Christmas decorations. When he discovered his daddy had made it for him, he wouldn’t rest until Joe put it back in his room. That evening, an hour before bedtime, Joe had found him already dressed in his Buzz Lightyear pajamas and trying to squeeze into the cradle with his pillow and Toy Story blanket.
This time the memory startled a laugh out of him.
And then made him lay his body over the box and weep.
Chapter Nine
Well this didn’t look good—Joe already had his escape plan lined up and ready to execute.
Brent’s stomach churned as he and Hake inspected Joe’s preparations for a quick departure. They were going to have to make some serious dents in his fucked-up belief system. Or his head. “We could just slash all his tires.”
“Taking the keys would be cheaper,” Hake said laconically.
Brent raised his brows. “For him . If cleaning out his bank accounts is what it takes to keep him here, I’m all for it.”
“Just the same, let’s save that as a last resort, okay?”
Brent shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”
They’d given Joe a half-hour to cool down and come back in, but when he didn’t return, Brent figured he’d come over here to work on one of his projects. By the time they followed him across the road, his tracks in the snow had all but disappeared. The way the wind was blowing, they could have six-foot drifts by morning. Joe would have a hell of a plowing job on his hands if he wanted out that badly—he’d have to take the tractor all the way to the interstate five miles away.
“Think he needs another fight?” Hake asked.
Brent winced, remembering the last time he and Joe had gotten into a physical confrontation. He’d let Joe goad him into starting it, and then Joe had finished it with humiliating ease—right before he fucked Brent’s ass for the first time. The whole thing had been painful, from beginning to end, but he didn’t know that he’d change any of it if he could because it had finally opened Joe up emotionally. “He might.”
“Unless you object, I’m gonna top him.”
Brent would be up for anything right now if it kept Joe from leaving. “He could definitely use it,” he told Hake. “His control issues are rearing their ugly heads again.”
Hake just nodded, and Brent knew he could relate. They both could. Farming wasn’t a career for control freaks—you had to learn where the line was between what you could control and what was out of your hands, and just accept it. Prepare for it. Do what you could to capitalize on it when things went your way and mitigate the damage when they didn’t. Gnashing your teeth over things like grain prices and weather forecasts didn’t gain you anything except worn-down teeth.
Joe had learned that lesson long ago about farming, and the state of the nation, and he could even pinpoint where other people had control issues in their personal lives. But when it came to his own personal life, he had zero objectivity. Of course, it was always easier to see the flaws in other people’s reasoning than it was in your own—there was no mirror you could look into and compare yours with theirs the way you could with physical flaws—but there came a point where you just had to rely on your emotional anchors, the people in your life who kept you grounded, for perspective.
That was a lesson Joe was probably going to have to be taught several times before it took.
“You ready to beard the farmer in his den?” Hake asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. You got
The last time Joe had actually seen it, three-year-old Travis had found it in their storage room when Caroline was in there looking for the Christmas decorations. When he discovered his daddy had made it for him, he wouldn’t rest until Joe put it back in his room. That evening, an hour before bedtime, Joe had found him already dressed in his Buzz Lightyear pajamas and trying to squeeze into the cradle with his pillow and Toy Story blanket.
This time the memory startled a laugh out of him.
And then made him lay his body over the box and weep.
Chapter Nine
Well this didn’t look good—Joe already had his escape plan lined up and ready to execute.
Brent’s stomach churned as he and Hake inspected Joe’s preparations for a quick departure. They were going to have to make some serious dents in his fucked-up belief system. Or his head. “We could just slash all his tires.”
“Taking the keys would be cheaper,” Hake said laconically.
Brent raised his brows. “For him . If cleaning out his bank accounts is what it takes to keep him here, I’m all for it.”
“Just the same, let’s save that as a last resort, okay?”
Brent shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”
They’d given Joe a half-hour to cool down and come back in, but when he didn’t return, Brent figured he’d come over here to work on one of his projects. By the time they followed him across the road, his tracks in the snow had all but disappeared. The way the wind was blowing, they could have six-foot drifts by morning. Joe would have a hell of a plowing job on his hands if he wanted out that badly—he’d have to take the tractor all the way to the interstate five miles away.
“Think he needs another fight?” Hake asked.
Brent winced, remembering the last time he and Joe had gotten into a physical confrontation. He’d let Joe goad him into starting it, and then Joe had finished it with humiliating ease—right before he fucked Brent’s ass for the first time. The whole thing had been painful, from beginning to end, but he didn’t know that he’d change any of it if he could because it had finally opened Joe up emotionally. “He might.”
“Unless you object, I’m gonna top him.”
Brent would be up for anything right now if it kept Joe from leaving. “He could definitely use it,” he told Hake. “His control issues are rearing their ugly heads again.”
Hake just nodded, and Brent knew he could relate. They both could. Farming wasn’t a career for control freaks—you had to learn where the line was between what you could control and what was out of your hands, and just accept it. Prepare for it. Do what you could to capitalize on it when things went your way and mitigate the damage when they didn’t. Gnashing your teeth over things like grain prices and weather forecasts didn’t gain you anything except worn-down teeth.
Joe had learned that lesson long ago about farming, and the state of the nation, and he could even pinpoint where other people had control issues in their personal lives. But when it came to his own personal life, he had zero objectivity. Of course, it was always easier to see the flaws in other people’s reasoning than it was in your own—there was no mirror you could look into and compare yours with theirs the way you could with physical flaws—but there came a point where you just had to rely on your emotional anchors, the people in your life who kept you grounded, for perspective.
That was a lesson Joe was probably going to have to be taught several times before it took.
“You ready to beard the farmer in his den?” Hake asked.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. You got
Similar Books
