Page 24 of The Earl’s Wrangler (Cowboy Nobility #3)

TO SAY the building looked old was an understatement.

The place had been built centuries before, and was laden with heavy wooden beams and dark, scuffed, worn wooden seats that had seen centuries of butts.

The inside seemed permeated with the scent of tobacco, even though no one was allowed to smoke inside any longer.

As he entered, Sawyer made sure to put on a smile. A few heads turned his way with curious looks, but the entire room went silent when Randall came in. Sawyer swore he could hear his boots on the floor every time he stepped.

“There’s a table over there,” Sawyer said, gesturing toward the empty seats. Randall continued looking around, standing in the center of the room as everyone seemed to lower their gaze.

“What can I get your Lordship?” the man behind the bar asked after a slight bend of his head.

“Randall,” Sawyer said gently. “He and I will each have a beer, and what is your best dish?”

“Our shepherd’s pie,” the man answered.

“Then we’ll each have one of those and the beer,” Sawyer said. “Thank you.” He didn’t know what the protocol was at a moment like this, so he guided Randall to a seat. He took it, and eventually conversation in the room slowly began, only this time he was pretty sure all of it was about them.

“This was a bad idea,” Randall said softly.

“No. This is a great idea. You need to be seen, and they need to know that you aren’t some dragon in your castle or an ogre that is going to eat their children.

You don’t have to be their drinking buddy, but you and they are connected.

If you want to succeed, then you have to help them be successful, and that takes talking.

And maybe having a beer with them occasionally.

” The bartender brought their beers in pint glasses.

Sawyer tasted his and licked his lips before downing a quarter of the glass.

“This is way better than the stuff at home. Though it should be colder,” he whispered and drank some more. Then he looked for the bartender and caught his eye. “This is very good.”

“You a Yank?” he asked.

“Yes. I’m an American.” He took off his hat and placed it on his lap. He’d forgotten he had it on.

“One of them cowboys?” a man asked from behind him.

“You bet. I wrangle horses and herd cattle out in Wyoming. I’m here staying with Randall for a couple of weeks.

I met him when he was visiting mutual friends.

” He refused to say his Lordship because that was not who Randall was to him.

He was his boyfriend, and their relationship was personal and had nothing to do with social hierarchy.

He turned to the man who had asked. “I spend most of my time outdoors, the way you do, judging by how windblown and suntanned your face is.”

“And you’re here with his Lordship?” He sounded shocked.

“Sure.” Sawyer turned to sit forward in the seat. He kept his opinion to himself, but it was becoming clear that these people had no idea who Randall was or that he was a good guy. Sawyer drank some more of his beer, and when the food arrived, he dug in.

“Good?” he asked Randall, who nodded as he took a delicate bite.

“I haven’t had one of these since I was a kid. One of my nannies used to have it made for me.”

“If you like it, then tell the man. He looks like he’s about to shit a brick,” Sawyer said, and the man behind him chuckled.

“Just treat these folks the way you did the people on the ranch. If they ask for your opinion, give it. If they do something good, praise them for it. If they need help, be there to provide it if you can. Everyone on the ranch worked together, because if they didn’t, the entire place would fall apart.

” It was pretty simple to him, but then he wasn’t Alan or Mrs. J, and his name certainly hadn’t been on the sign at the entrance to the drive.

“You don’t understand how things are here,” Randall told him.

Sawyer shrugged. “It seems to me that things here are largely dictated by how you act. They will all follow your lead. So do that and be the one out front.” He ate some more of the shepherd’s pie.

“Is everything to your liking, your Lordship?” the bartender asked. He was probably the owner of the pub; he was doing everything but wringing his hands with worry.

“The pie is great. Reminds me of what I had as a child. Thank you,” Randall said, and damned if the barkeep didn’t give him a smile. “I’ve been away for a while, but it’s good to have some home cooking again.”

“Yes, this is wonderful,” Sawyer agreed as he dug in to finish off the last of it.

He also finished his beer but turned down another one.

If he had a second, he was pretty sure the jet lag would catch up with him, and the last thing he wanted was to go to sleep too early.

At least that was what the internet told him.

The man beamed and hurried back behind the bar to fill other orders.

“So, gentlemen, what’s been happening in the village?

” Randall asked, looking around. Again, no one said anything, maybe expecting it to be a trick question.

“There has to be something interesting. I’ve been in America, and I got to work with some amazing horses.

You always raised beauties,” he said, turning to one of the older men. “How does this year’s crop look?”

“Very good, your Lordship,” he answered softly.

“Would it be all right if we stopped by to see them? Sawyer absolutely loves horses.” Damn, Randall was really trying to break through, but these people were giving him nothing. Sawyer didn’t understand why, but Randall didn’t seem ruffled by it.

“You want to come see my horses?” Shock was plain on his face until he schooled it. “Of course. Stop by any time, your Lordship.” He actually seemed pleased, and Sawyer began to wonder if he should order that second beer after all.

Randall met his gaze once again, and this time there was doubt in his eyes.

Sawyer wasn’t sure what the issue was, but he had a feeling it was something Randall needed to wrestle with himself and come up with his own answers.

Sawyer could give him a start, but he couldn’t dictate his actions.

Though he was a man and dictating would be the easier solution…

at least to his way of thinking. But he held back.

“I think it’s time we dispense with this ‘your Lordship’ stuff.

My name is Randall, okay? His Lordship was my father, and he’s dead.

” Randall pulled himself straighter, but he didn’t stand up like he was making a grand announcement.

He stayed seated like he was just having a conversation.

Sawyer wished he could do more to give him his support. “We all know that my father….”

“It’s not right to speak ill of the dead,” someone said, but probably out of habit rather than true feeling about his father.

Randall snorted. “We need to clear the air, so if I’m speaking ill about him, then he deserved it, and I certainly know that more than most of you.

He was a bad father and an even worse landlord.

He didn’t do some of the things that he should have done.

So I would like your help. I need to know what is lacking.

If you rent from the estate, then what repairs need to be made?

I will make a list so that it can be prioritized and the repairs and upgrades completed. ”

A murmur went through the group.

“Is he serious?” an older man with snow-white hair asked as he leaned over, propping himself on a cane as he did so.

“Yes.” Sawyer nodded to reinforce the point.

“And if you or your children have building or handyman-type skills, please tell me about them as well. I want to make the repairs, and I want the money to stay in our community if at all possible.” That got an even more of a murmur, people talking to each other with an undertone of excitement.

“Should we write to you?”

“How about you just email me?” Randall said and offered an email address.

“That one comes right to me, not the staff at the estate. We need to work together to improve our community. This is long overdue, and I’m sorry for that.

” He went quiet and turned back to the table.

He drank the last of his beer and closed his eyes.

“Do you want to leave?” Sawyer asked before motioning to the bartender. He asked about the bill.

“It’s on the house,” the bartender said.

Sawyer shook his head and leaned over the bar.

“How about you let me pay for our food, and the next time someone comes up a little short, you take care of them instead?” He used the strange money to pay and thanked him once again for an amazing meal.

They left the pub, and Sawyer looked around the small village with its mostly stone buildings.

It was a little like stepping back in time.

The streets were narrow, with the center of the town facing a small open square.

“I think that went well. At least I hope it did,” Randall said. “With a lot of these people, there is so much history and tradition, and I don’t know if I can fight it.”

“They certainly can’t. You’re the landlord for a lot of them, so they might feel like they’re at your mercy.

So you have to be the one to make the first move, and you did that very well.

” Sawyer opened the car door and realized he was on the wrong side.

He grumbled under his breath and went around before getting in.

“I’m not sure if you’re going to get flooded with requests or if it is going to be radio silence. ”

“I know. But I need to know the condition of things.”

“Give them some time. The brave ones will contact you, and the others will wait to see what happens.” Sawyer knew what it felt like to not have much of a voice for a long time. It became hard to believe that anyone would ever listen to you.

Randall nodded his agreement and started the engine on the small BMW before pulling out of the parking space.