Reece Kamrose wearily strode into his office and threw himself into his chair. For once the squeaking noise it made upon contact didn’t annoy him. He’d earned that squeak, fair and square, and he was entitled to hearing it.
Barkley ambled in, clipboard in hand. “Don’t get too comfy.”
“Why not?” He checked the clock between the doorway and window. “It’s past quittin’ time, and I want a beer.”
“I just got a call from Pablo that the hauler on the back forty conked out. They’re needing someone to bring the other hauler over there so they can get this load in before nightfall.”
Reece eyed the cast on the man’s arm. There was no way the guy could steer one of those beasts, which meant... “Lemme guess. There’s no one else around ‘cept me ‘n you.”
Barkley grinned apologetically. “If I could,
