Page 111 of If It's You

“I’m terrible at video games,” Christian said.

“Yes, he is.” Mitchell echoed.

Maizie was done with this torture. She shoved the last of the sandwich into her mouth, ditched her plate in the sink, and retreated to her room before her mother asked Christian any more questions.

* * *

Christian was almost too distractedto notice Maizie leave. Anne’s questions were normal, but they had hit him harder than he dared to admit.

He had no idea what he wanted to study or do. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to go to college anymore. The more he’d worked on the farm, the more he’d realized how much he liked to do things with his hands.

He hated being stuck behind a computer just to do homework. He could never envision a career with a desk job. Maybe he should take a year off from school to work, try out new jobs until he found what he was looking for. His dad’s dream had been for Christian to go to the U since he himself had never had the opportunity to attend college. Christian had been so ecstatic when he’d been accepted, and he’d hoped that even though his dad was gone, he could still make him proud. But he’d hated almost every minute of the last two semesters. His dad had wanted a better life for him. But now Christian was wondering what kind of life that was.

“Do you want more?” Anne hovered near him.

Yes. He wanted more out of life. But that’s not what she was asking.

Christian stared blankly at his plate. His two sandwiches had disappeared, and he only vaguely remembered taking a few bites.

“No thank you,” he said.

The other guys were getting ready to head back out to finish branding. How long had he been sitting here lost in thought?

He gathered up his plate and rinsed it off in the sink before putting it in the dishwasher.

“I told her you were kind,” Anne said behind him.

Huh? He opened his mouth to ask, but she turned away. Told whom? He glanced in the direction of Maizie’s room one last time before heading out the door.

Thoughts of the future plagued him for the rest of the afternoon.

“Do you want to try doing the horns now?” Eric asked after a while.

Christian eyed the two bars with a hole in the middle. He knew what would happen if he took those. Burning the hide on the cows was one thing, chopping their horns off and avoiding the spouts of blood was another.

Jayce and Eric were both wearing blood like it was an honor. But if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he was not cut out to be a doctor. No matter how much his dad had dreamed it for him.

“It looks nasty but it doesn’t hurt ’em,” Eric said and put the tool in his hands before Christian could decline. He waited while Jayce and Mitchell brought the next calf into the chute. They wrangled it in and locked it up.

Eric pressed the hot branding iron into the calf’s hide, and Mason administered the shots. Now it was Christian’s turn.

I can do this. Be a man.

He pushed the cow’s head to one side with his hip like he’d seen Eric do. The cow snorted, eager to be released. He placed the circle over one horn and opened the shears, cutting the horn clean off. He grimaced, but there was no blood. Hmm . . .that wasn’t so bad.

He did the next one, but this one was different. A geyser of blood drenched his front, and he fell back in horror.

“You alright there?” Eric asked with a smile, the only one of the guys who wasn’t full-on laughing at him.

Christian looked down at his—Eric’s—shirt. It looked like he’d just murdered something. Christian’s stomach clenched, and his throat constricted.

“Are you afraid of a little blood?” Jayce teased.

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s more than a little,” Christian shot back.

“You have some on your face,” Mason said.

That was all it took. Everything Christian had eaten for lunch returned in a disgusting flash flood.