Carver’s inappropriate behavior in the barn persisted in popping up whenever his mind wasn’t on work. He wanted to apologize, but he needed privacy for that and wasn’t about to corner Bishop somewhere and make the man think he was looking for round two. Carver waited over a week until he spotted Bishop alone fixing one of the fences in the south field. The open area made it less likely that Carver would be seen as a threat, so Carver strode toward Bishop where he crouched in front of the fence, stopping a few feet away.
“Need any help with that?”
“Nope.” As usual, Bishop didn’t look up from his task.
“Bishop.” Carver squatted down, hands dangling between his legs, “I’m sorry about that day in the barn. I acted like an asshole.”
“Okay.” Bishop kept hammering at the fence. Carver wanted
