Chapter 3

The bunkhouse was exactly what Nathan had expected and nothing like what he was prepared for. Long and narrow, with eight beds lined against the walls, it felt like a military barracks crossed with a summer camp cabin. The smell of leather, sweat, and wood polish hung in the air, along with something distinctly masculine that spoke of men who worked with their hands for a living.

Rip led them inside, and immediately all conversation stopped. Five pairs of eyes turned toward the newcomers with varying degrees of curiosity and suspicion.

"Everyone, meet Nathan and Trevor," Rip announced. "Nathan's our new vet, Trevor's gonna be working cattle with the rest of you. This is Lloyd," He gestured to an older man with silver hair and kind eyes who nodded respectfully. "Ryan, Colby," Two guys around the same age as them who looked like they could handle themselves in a fight. "Teeter" the only woman bunkhouse resident with short pink dyed hair and a grin that suggested trouble. "And Jimmy."

Jimmy was the youngest of them all, probably late twenties, and when his eyes met Trevor's, he immediately looked away like he'd seen something that scared him. Trevor's imposing frame and full beard probably had that effect on a lot of people.

Teeter, on the other hand, was studying Nathan with obvious interest, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Your bunks are there and there," Rip said, pointing to two beds directly across from each other. "Settle in, you two start work tomorrow."

With that, he left them to face the music alone.

Nathan and Trevor moved to their assigned bunks and began unpacking their single duffel bags in silence. The contrast between their belongings was stark: Trevor's gear was practical and minimal, while Nathan's clothes still looked like they belonged in a doctor's office rather than a ranch.

Teeter bounded over to Nathan with the energy of a golden retriever. "Hey there. I'm Teeter. Welcome to paradise." Her Texas accent was so thick it was almost incomprehensible and her grin was genuine.

"Nathan," he replied, managing a small smile. "Nice to meet you."

Ryan, lounging on his bunk, looked Nathan up and down with undisguised curiosity. "You look like you shouldn't be here. Where are you from?"

"Uh... Los Angeles."

Every head in the bunkhouse turned toward him like he'd announced he was from Mars.

"Seriously?" Colby sat up straighter. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Nathan hesitated, fidgeting with the trucker cap in his hands. "A fresh start, I guess."

Colby's eyes zeroed in on Nathan's face, where the fading bruises were still visible despite his attempts to hide them. "What happened to your face? Already having an allergic reaction to the air here, city boy?"

Nathan's hand instinctively moved toward his jaw. "Oh no, I walked into a door."

Lloyd, who'd been quietly observing from his corner, knew bullshit when he heard it. He'd seen enough violence in his time to recognize the pattern of those bruises. His eyes flicked between Nathan and Trevor, trying to piece together their stories. Trevor he could read easily enough, had that hollow look of a soldier who'd lost his unit, probably eaten up with guilt over being the one who made it home. Men like that ended up on ranches when they had nowhere else to go. But Nathan was different. Lloyd was still trying to figure out exactly how.

"You two come together?" Lloyd asked.

"No," Trevor answered, his Southern drawl thick as molasses. "Just got here at the same time."

Jimmy snorted at the accent, then immediately looked uncomfortable when everyone turned to stare at him.

Nathan cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, where's the bathroom?"

Ryan pointed toward the back of the building. "In the back. But don't throw up 'cause it ain't something you're used to."

Nathan nodded and headed in the direction Ryan had indicated, leaving his unpacking half-finished.

The bathroom was exactly what he'd expected: functional, clean enough, but decidedly communal. Of course it was. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the shower stalls and toilet partitions, then stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"Fuck." he muttered under his breath.

It wasn't terrible, just... public. Which meant the scar on his left chest, a souvenir from a particularly bad night three years ago, would be visible if he showered with the others. That would raise questions he couldn't answer. He'd have to be strategic about it, shower before everyone else in the morning and after everyone at night. It was doable.

Nathan sat down on one of the toilets, not because he needed to use it, but because he needed a moment to process. It was obviously too late to go back now. The ranch hands didn't seem hostile, which was good. They'd probably keep making fun of him for being a city boy, but that was nothing. Teeter seemed genuinely friendly, and even the ribbing from the others felt more like hazing than actual cruelty.

And sleeping in a room with six other people? That was still infinitely better than sleeping next to one man who used him as a punching bag every other night.

Since leaving Los Angeles, Nathan allowed himself to think that maybe, just maybe, he was going to be okay.

—

Nathan decided a shower could wait until tomorrow, his first day working at the ranch. He pulled off his shoes and settled into the unfamiliar bunk, surprised by how comfortable the mattress was. The sounds around him were different from what he was used to, no traffic, no sirens, just the quiet breathing of sleeping men and the distant sounds of cattle.

A few hours later, something pulled him from sleep. The bunkhouse was dark except for moonlight filtering through the windows. Everyone else was lost in dreams, but across the narrow aisle, Trevor sat on his bunk like a statue. Just sitting there, shoulders hunched, staring at nothing. Nathan blinked once, considered saying something, then decided against it. Whatever demons Trevor was wrestling with weren't his business. He rolled over and drifted back to sleep.

His internal clock woke him at 3:37 AM. Nathan checked his watch and smiled slightly, perfect timing. The bunkhouse was still wrapped in pre-dawn quiet, bodies motionless under thin blankets. He sat up carefully, then noticed Trevor's bunk was empty. For a moment, panic fluttered in his chest. Had the guy bolted? But no, Trevor's worn duffel bag was still tucked under the bed frame.

Nathan gathered his things and slipped into the bathroom. The shower was blissfully hot, washing away two days of travel and stress. He kept it quick, constantly listening for sounds of the others stirring. When he emerged, steam following him, he pulled on a clean shirt and stepped back into the main room.

The bunkhouse was coming alive: boots hitting the floor, muffled curses, the rustle of clothes. Nathan spotted Trevor at the small dining table near the window, a cigarette burning between his fingers, smoke curling up toward the ceiling.

"Jesus Christ, you're early." Ryan mumbled, pulling on his jeans.

Colby stretched and yawned. "I thought we were gonna have to wake you up from your beauty sleep."

Nathan settled onto his bunk while waiting for the others to get ready. "You guys won't have to worry about that."

The others shuffled toward the bathroom in various states of undress, grumbling about the early hour. Trevor took one last drag from his cigarette, stubbed it out in an ashtray, and followed them in.

Nathan sat alone for a moment, listening to the sounds of the ranch hands preparing for another day of hard work. He was looking forward to what came next.

—

After everyone had pulled themselves together, Lloyd started a pot of coffee while Colby cracked eggs into a large skillet. The morning routine had the efficiency of men who'd done this hundreds of times before. Nathan and Trevor found spots at the table, both carefully reading the room, neither wanting to step on any unspoken rules or claim territory that wasn't theirs.

Jimmy kept stealing glances at Trevor like the man might suddenly lunge across the table and grab him. Trevor was aware of the kid's nervous energy but chose to ignore it, focusing instead on the steam rising from his coffee mug.

Ryan, standing with his back against the counter, looked down at the table and burst out laughing. "Hollywood thinks we're going for a run."

Everyone's eyes dropped to Nathan's feet, where pristine white running shoes stood out like a neon sign among the worn leather boots under the table.

"Those shoes are gonna get destroyed in four hours," Colby called from the stove, flipping eggs with practiced ease. "Five max."

Nathan felt heat creep up his neck. "Yeah, sorry, I didn't have much time to pack."

Lloyd raised an eyebrow over his coffee, filing away another piece of the puzzle. A man who didn't have time to pack proper work boots was a man running from something. But what?

Colby turned around, spatula in hand, and dropped his voice to an exaggerated whisper that mocked Nathan's soft-spoken tone. "Speak up, man. We're gonna have to shout at each other across the pasture."

"I bet you're gonna apply sunscreen every fifteen minutes," Ryan added, grinning.

"Can y'all shut the fuck up?" Teeter snapped, pointing her fork at them. "Leave him alone. It's his first day, cut him some slack."

Ryan's grin widened. "Look, Colby, your girlfriend's already hunting another man."

"Whatever," Colby muttered, but there was no real heat in it.

Teeter blew an exaggerated kiss in Colby's direction. "Never, baby."

Jimmy, who'd been picking at his eggs, suddenly looked up. "How'd you get this job anyway?"

"I used to work at the 6666," Nathan said, grateful for the change of subject. "Got hired right away."

"Oh, you got skill." Colby said, his tone shifting to something more respectful.

"I hope so. I was just a visiting vet back then, though."

Lloyd studied Nathan's face, seeing the uncertainty there. "Jimmy, don't you have an extra pair you can let him borrow? You two should be around the same size."

Jimmy looked from Lloyd to Nathan, then shrugged with the reluctant generosity of someone who knew what it was like to be the new guy. "Man..." He got up and disappeared toward his bunk, returning with a pair of well-worn cowboy boots. "But once it's payday, get your own. I want these back."

Nathan took the boots, surprised by the gesture. "I will. Thank you."

He bent down to change his shoes, and Jimmy's boots fit surprisingly well. The leather was soft from use, molded to feet that were close enough to his own size.

Throughout the entire exchange, Trevor remained silent, nursing his coffee and cigarette like a man who'd forgotten how to participate in normal conversation. His presence was watchful but distant, like he was observing life from behind glass.