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Michael blinked hard several times. His back straightened and his demeanor shifted back to a man who was all business. And like that, they got to work on the best care possible for Elmer Pearce’s long-term recovery.
Chapter Three
Michael and Josiah chatted for close to two hours about Dad and everything relevant to his future care, and Michael found himself enjoying the younger man’s company. He couldn’t guess his age, and he’d barely glanced at the résumé folder, so he didn’t know Josiah’s graduation dates, but he’d guess Josiah was about a decade younger than him.
Josiah was cute in a plain way Michael couldn’t really describe. Average height and slender, with reddish-brown hair that seemed to resist being tamed by a hairbrush or product, and a pair of gold-rimmed glasses that made him look like a science fair geek desperate to win first prize. But he also had an aura of fatigue and grief that intrigued Michael. Josiah gave all the right answers to Michael’s questions and knew a hell of a lot about stroke patients, so Michael had no qualms with his qualifications.
No, something about Josiah Sheridan was haunted. And Michael wanted to know more.
“It’s after one already,” Michael said once they’d finalized a delivery time for Dad’s bed tomorrow with the service providing it. “Can I buy you lunch? I’d offer to make something, but I’m not much of a cook and the fridge is pretty bare bones.”
Josiah stared at him as if he’d spoken in a foreign language before shaking himself out of it. “Um, no, thank you. I’ve got some calls to make so we’re ready for tomorrow.”
“You sure? It’ll only take an hour.” Michael didn’t understand why he wanted to remain in Josiah’s company. He simply...liked the younger man and felt at ease in his presence. And the way Josiah picked at the band of his wristwatch—so few people his age seemed to wear actual watches anymore—was sort of adorable.
“I’m sure, but thank you again. My, um, I should, ah, get home and finish this up.”
Michael glanced at Josiah’s left hand but didn’t see a ring. Neither of them had spoken about anything too personal, including relationship statuses. But this was also a business relationship, employer and employee, not a friendship. At least, not yet. He’d like to be Josiah’s friend, even if they only saw each other at the start and end of a workday. After being away from Weston for half his life, Michael could use a friend or two here.
“Rain check, then,” Michael said.
“Sure.” Josiah’s hesitant smile as he gathered up his papers didn’t give Michael the impression he truly meant it. Had he heard through the gossip chain that Michael was gay, and he didn’t approve? Michael had openly flaunted his sexuality around town in the months leading up to his departure, not giving a shit what anyone thought anymore, so longtime residents knew.
Whatever. If Josiah turned out to be a homophobe, Michael would deal with it. Not like he was putting down roots in Weston for the long term. He was here to lick his own wounds over the Kenny/Rosco debacle, get his father back on his feet, and figure out a new direction for his life. Nothing else.
He walked Josiah to the door and caught a faint whiff of something sweet and clean, like soap or shampoo. Definitely not cologne. He liked it. Its simplicity fit with what he knew of Josiah so far.
“So the delivery company will set up the bed for you,” Josiah said once he’d stepped out onto the porch. “You just need to have the space cleared for them.”
“Right, I’ll figure that out tonight. Do you want to go to the hospital and meet my father before he comes home?”
“Mr. Pearce and I have interacted a few times, so he knows who I am. But I can be here when he’s discharged and you bring him home, so the three of us can have a conversation together about my role in his care.”
“That sounds fine. I think the doctor said if not tomorrow, then the day after. It’ll give me a little time to go job hunting, too.”
“Are you looking for any work in particular?” Josiah pushed his glasses higher up his nose. “I don’t know of any computer work, but I can ask around.”
“I was actually thinking of applying up at Woods Ranch.” Now that the words were out of his mouth, Michael couldn’t take them back. Submitting his résumé wouldn’t take very long, and considering the long gap in any sort of ranch work, he might not even get a call back. “This place was a working ranch when I was younger, so I know the life. It’s hard work for not-great pay, but it beats...well, probably whatever menial jobs are available here or in Daisy. Or elsewhere, but I don’t want a long commute if I can help it.”
And now he was babbling.
Josiah smiled. “I don’t know the Woods family well, but they seemed like a close-knit, accepting group of people.”
“Yeah, I’d heard a bit about some incident with Brand Woods and his stepbrother?”
“Not Brand’s stepbrother. His boyfriend Hugo’s stepbrother. A few months ago out at the Roost. But he’s okay now.”
“The stepbrother?”
“No, Brand.” Josiah’s cheeks pinked up and he let out an adorable bark of nervous laughter. “I am really screwing this up. No, a few months ago Hugo’s stepbrother got drunk and attacked Hugo, but Hugo’s boyfriend, Brand, got in the middle of things, and Brand was stabbed but he’s fine now.” He looked sideways, as if consulting an imaginary encyclopedia of events, then nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”
“Wow. I mean, I’m glad Brand is okay.” From gossip, Michael knew that the oldest Woods heir, Colt, was openly gay and married to a man, and now the next son was also with a man? It definitely raised Michael’s chances of being hired and lowered the odds of taking shit for being open about his sexuality. Michael had no wish to ever be shoved back into the closet, not for any reason.
“He is,” Josiah said. “From what I hear, he’s done a lot to modernize Woods Ranch and keep them running in the black. I think you’d be a good fit there.”
“Why?” Michael hadn’t meant to sound confrontational, but Josiah had known him for less than three hours. It irked him when people made snap judgments about him, and he also hated the way Josiah hunched his shoulders and directed his response to the porch floor.
“You seem genuine, Michael. And from my few interactions with Brand and his parents, they seem to thrive off genuine people. I meant no offense.”
