Page 13 of Boston (Coral Canyon: Cowboys #12)
CHAPTER
NINE
B oston groaned as he rolled over, his right shoulder aching from where he’d been sleeping on it for the past two nights.
The Adams family had originally booked their hunting expedition for four men—a father and his three sons—but apparently their daughter had gotten engaged, and they’d added the future-son-in-law to the itinerary without calling Silver Sage and making arrangements.
They’d flown from Pennsylvania, and Boston had known the moment he’d seen Ernie’s face that this hunting party would be anything but a celebration.
The extra person had bumped Boston from the twin bed he’d been planning to sleep in, displacing him to the floor. He rotated his shoulder forward and then back, and lifted his arms above his head, stretching to make sure that everything still worked.
Of course it did, because he was only twenty-three-years-old, and one thing that his momma and daddy always told him was that he was young, and young bodies could do anything.
Wait until you’re my age, his daddy had said many times, a wry smile on his face.
Boston felt about fifty right now, and he stepped into a pair of Crocs and walked over to the kitchen. “It’s the last day,” he muttered to himself.
He’d sleep in his own bed tonight and thank the Lord for it in a way he’d never done before.
He set the coffee to brew and pulled out eggs, milk, and three loaves of cinnamon chip sourdough bread he’d bought from Joey.
Boston’s first reason for not allowing a fifth man was the food and supplies—which he packed in, not them—but everyone at Silver Sage knew that Boston overplanned and overpacked and usually brought home at least two days’ worth of food. So he hadn’t been able to use that excuse.
No reason that he could come up with when faced with a fifth member had worked, and he’d simply kept his mouth shut and nodded, knowing he’d have to sleep on the floor.
One good thing was that Ernie had said the lodge would pay him time and a half for the entire excursion, so Boston should see a nice chunk of extra money in his next paycheck.
He started cracking eggs and added a splash of milk, then cinnamon and salt to the mixture. He got out two griddles and set them on the counter and plugged them in.
He always made a big, breakfast feast on the last day of the hunting trip, because today they would only be hunting for the first two hours, and the rest of the day was spent getting back to the lodge.
Boston cut bread until he had thirty pieces of sourdough ready to dunk, and then he pulled out a package of bacon and one of breakfast sausage.
He laid the bacon strips over the first griddle, while the package of maple breakfast sausage went over the second one, and he figured he’d see all the Adams men in ten minutes or less.
The scent of bacon had that effect on people.
As the meat started to crisp up and turn brown, Boston cracked even more eggs into a bowl, this time adding a little less milk and lots more salt and pepper.
He set a heavy cast iron skillet on the stove and lit the flame underneath it.
His thoughts turned to dinner that evening and what Cora might make for his triumphant return from the hunting expedition.
He smiled to himself, though the past couple of days without talking to her had been harder than he’d imagined they would be.
He wasn’t sure if they were dating or just talking, or if she was his girlfriend or just a friend. He knew he liked texting with her, and the moment he’d seen her walking down the lane to her cabin, his heart had practically leapt out of his chest.
He liked her, and she sure seemed to like him, and he wondered if two days of silence from him had affected her at all.
He dropped butter into the pan at the same time someone asked, “Bacon and eggs for breakfast, huh?”
He turned toward Mister Adams, the patriarchal figure of the family.
“And French toast,” Boston said with a smile.
“Smells amazing,” he said, taking in the spread of food on the counter between him and Boston. “I really appreciate everything you’ve done for us this week.”
Boston nodded and wished he’d picked up his cowboy hat on the way over to the stove. “I’m glad you’ve had a good time,” he said.
“Just being with the boys is amazing,” Mister Adams said. “But it sure didn’t hurt to get that five-point buck.”
Boston grinned and chuckled. “I bet it didn’t.”
He’d shown everyone in the party how to properly butcher the deer, so it was easier to transport and be ready to take to the meat-packing operation the moment they returned to Coral Canyon.
Silver Sage had contracted businesses that they worked with, and Boston had used his satellite radio to tell Ernie that they had gotten a deer and would definitely need Charger’s Meat Packing to be on-site when they returned.
After all, the Adams couldn’t take fresh venison on the airplane with them.
“We’re just going out for a couple of hours this morning, right?” Shawn appeared in the kitchen, still pulling down his T-shirt.
“Yep,” Boston said. “We’re gonna go right up over that ridge after breakfast where we saw those deer yesterday.”
“Perfect.” Shawn clapped his hands together and rubbed them.
The butter in the pan sizzled behind Boston, and he got busy making breakfast. He flipped bacon slices, turned sausages, and scrambled eggs.
Breakfast came together quickly after that.
With the meat resting, he was able to use both griddles for the French toast, and all five men had shown up, lured by the scent of maple, cinnamon, and bacon.
Boston served them buffet style down the front of the peninsula, and they ate, laughing and chatting, at the dining room table. Boston scarfed down a couple of pieces of French toast and all the leftover sausage and scrambled eggs before he started cleaning up.
William, the oldest Adams’ son, came to help him. He held out his hand with his fingers practically in a fist. Boston glanced at him and then down to his hand as William said, “Thank you so much for this. It’s meant so much to my dad.”
He had a couple of folded hundred-dollar bills in his hand, and Boston’s first inclination was to refuse them. But Silver Sage allowed him to take tips, and so he simply put a smile on his face and said, “Thank you so much. It’s been a great weekend.”
“Well, it’ll be great if we can get Shawn a deer,” William said. “I don’t think we’ll ever hear the end of it if we don’t.” He rolled his eyes and rejoined his family.
Boston tucked the money away, and when he had the cabin sufficiently cleaned, he started packing up their supplies.
“We’re not going to be coming back here,” he said. “Everyone needs to pack everything out.”
Thankfully, the National Forest Service had a dumpster just a half-mile down the road from this cabin, and it was in the direction of the ridge where they’d be hunting that morning. So Boston could carry out all their trash and wouldn’t have to take it with him back to the lodge.
He didn’t actually hunt on these hunting expeditions, but he was an excellent scout and wildlife tracker, and every single expedition he’d done since joining the staff at Silver Sage had had a successful kill.
They were hunting with bow and arrows this weekend, and activity reigned through the cabin as the men moved around to pack everything they’d brought.
Boston led the way out as usual, saddled his horse first, and got everything in the packs. Then he saddled the other five horses, finishing up the last one just as the Adams clan came out of the front door.
“Do we need to lock it?” William called.
“Just leave it,” Boston said.
Silver Sage paid a mountain cabin services company to come clean the cabin and remake all the beds so that it would be ready for the next excursion.
Boston made sure all the men were in their saddles first, and then he hurled himself into his. He led the way down the road, talking easily with everyone, getting rid of the trash and then leading them into the hills.
He loved the last day of a hunting expedition, especially a successful one. And while they spotted a few more deer during the morning hours, they couldn’t get close enough to aim and shoot.
Boston delivered everyone back to Silver Sage in one piece—happy, whole, and fed—and he passed them off to Ernie and Bill Charger at the excursion counter so that they could get their meat wrapped and their room assignments for that night.
He hurried through brushing down the horses and putting them back in the stable. He took everything home with him, where he would go through the supplies and extra food and put it all away tomorrow after church.
Right now, he just wanted to shower and get over to Cora’s. So he turned on his phone and texted her. Just back to my cabin. I’m going to shower and come over. Be there in maybe thirty minutes?
Sure, she said. I’m here and waiting.
Boston smiled because he hadn’t had a woman waiting for him in a long time. He showered and shaved, put on a clean pair of jeans and a red and black plaid short-sleeved shirt, doused himself in cologne, and got behind the wheel of his truck.
Until that moment, he hadn’t felt an ounce of nervousness, but now every cell in his body seemed to jiggle and quake.
He drove down to the intersection that had different roads going off of it like the spokes of a wagon wheel, and he did a near U-turn to go down the next lane where Cora lived in the family row of cabins.
She sat on her front steps, her knees practically drawn to her chin, and when he pulled into her driveway, she stood and tugged down her shorts so that they just barely kissed the tops of her knees.
Boston had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life, and judging by the width of the smile on her face, she sure seemed happy to see him too.
That settled some of his nerves, and he dropped to the ground as a laugh came out of his throat. He hurried around the front of the truck and down the front sidewalk. “Wow. Don’t you look amazing?”