14 Days

14 DAYS

PATRICK MANGAN

14 Days

Copyright © 2017, Patrick Mangan

Published by Painted Hearts Publishing

Smashwords Edition

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14 Days

Copyright © 2017 Patrick Mangan

ISBN 10: 1-946379-36-0

ISBN 13: 978-1-946379-36-8

Author: Patrick Mangan

Editor: Ashley Kain

Publication Date: August 2017

All cover art and logo copyright © 2017 by Painted Hearts Publishing

Cover design by E Keith

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

DAY 1

Hey! What the hell? Logan yelled, walking toward the now-destroyed gate. It has a damn latch! Little good it did, with the damage already done, the gate broken and knocked off its hinges. The man who destroyed it was stomping out into the field, his face a storm cloud, without any sign he even heard Logan. He put a hand up to grab Tyler by the arm, to stop him as he went by. That was a mistake.

Fuck off! were Tyler’s only words. Instead of saying more, he put his arms against Logan’s chest and roughly pushed him out of the way, sending him flying off his feet and into the grass and mud of the pasture.

What the—? was all Logan could say in response, knocked on his ass in the middle of his own field, watching Tyler, mad as hell, head off through the pasture without even breaking his stride.

Tyler’s mom came to the rescue. Oh no, Logan! I’m so sorry he just did that. Logan swung his gaze around from watching Tyler walk off to the woman standing over him, offering a helping hand.

Thank you, Logan responded, taking her hand as he crawled up out of the grass. He brushed at the mud, grass, and cow shit that stuck to his pants, then gave up on it. He was a farmer; it helped reinforce the stereotype if he had a rugged, grass-stained look to him.

I can’t believe he acted like that, Tyler’s mother went on. This is completely unacceptable. I don’t care if he and his father were fighting, there’s no reason to break your gate or assault you.

I wouldn’t call it assault, Mrs. Swann, Logan answered. He just pushed me. My own fault anyway. I know better than to step in front of a Marine when he looks like that. I’ve seen it often enough to know the expected outcome. I should’ve just let him go. I’m just mad about the gate, I suppose.

Logan, first off, please call me Clare, she said. Second, do not accept responsibility for the situation because my son is a jackass. He better find some common sense in your pastures and come back with a level head, or I’m going to rip into him worse than any drill sergeant ever did. I don’t care what he and my husband were fighting about.

I like her style, Logan thought to himself. All right, then. On that note, I’ll go get some tools and rework that gate.

Oh no you don’t, came Clare’s swift reply. Leave it for Tyler. He needs to make it right and rebuild the gate. As soon as he’s done acting like a petulant child, he can fix it, or he can go sleep in the barn tonight. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back into the house to give my husband an earful. He didn’t stomp off and away. Stupid men. No offense, Logan.

Yes ma’am, was all Logan could muster. This woman is tough as nails, all five foot, four inches of her. I’m off to change irrigation pipes out in the back field. Logan turned and walked out into the field toward the back pastures. That interaction reaffirmed that Clare was certainly strong-willed and all business. He had no doubt her husband, and eventually her adult son, were in for a scolding when she found them. Logan decided it was best to be as far away as possible for a while. Let the family fireworks go off without an audience.

Logan picked his way through the main pastures as he headed out to the back, thinking through the day, and the next fourteen days. That’s how long the Swann family would be staying at his ranch: fourteen days. That was a long stretch of time, especially for a family with two adult children. Most families spent a week at the ranch, living in the ranch house as part of a farm stay, gaining experiences as agritourists.

Some guests would actively get involved in the daily work of the ranch, helping Logan care for the animals, work out in the fields, or any of the other tasks that popped up on a working ranch. Other families came for a place to relax, eat good farm-fresh foods, and enjoy the western Montana landscape. The Riverlands Ranch wasn’t a dude ranch by any means. Logan didn’t run tours on horseback, or setup cattle drives and roping contests to entertain the guests. He simply offered an authentic experience living on a working ranch and enjoying the products that came from the plants and animals. The money from agritourism helped make financial ends meet at the ranch and keep it in business. Moreover, truth be told, Logan liked having most of the people around the ranch.

Most except for Tyler Swann, that was. Logan wasn’t big on assholes who flew off the hook emotionally, broke shit, and knocked him down to the ground, all within the first couple of hours of being on the place. He did admit, the guy looked good—all muscles, tight-fitting shirt, and firm ass, but looks didn’t count for everything when, as his mom put it, he was a jackass.

The Swanns’ stay had started out on a better note a couple of hours before. They arrived from the airport in their rental SUV and spilled out onto Riverlands soil. Clare had and John Swann interacted with Logan over the phone and email several times the last few months, setting up the family stay on the farm. Logan hadn’t yet met the rest of the Swann family. Alexis, John and Clare’s adult daughter, introduced herself and commented how lovely the ranch looked. Their thirty two year old son, Tyler, stood back a bit more, just nodding his head in Logan’s direction, saying nothing.

After they unloaded luggage, Logan gave them a tour of both the house and barnyard, laying out the ground rules for staying at the ranch and answering any questions that came up. Most of the rules were common sense, but needed saying nonetheless. Logan had had to round up sheep or cows at dusk often enough because a visitor went for a stroll in the fields, leaving the gate open. Luckily, the sheep usually beat a direct path to the orchard so they could munch on fallen apples, and the cows only went as far as the lawn grass, grazing on that lush green carpet.

Why don’t you have horses? Alexis asked at one point on the tour.

Because they’re stupid, idiotic, hay-burning shit bags, Logan thought to himself. I don’t use horses to work the cows. Instead, I use the gates, panels, and stock equipment. A good horse can help, but I find it easier to work on foot, or with a four-wheeler. I could have a couple for guests to ride, but horses can get bored and cause trouble when they aren’t worked daily.

Oh, so they can be like my brother? Alexis teased, throwing a smirk in Tyler’s direction.

Logan laughed at the joke, but quickly brought it back under control when Tyler didn’t laugh with him, instead glancing at him with mild annoyance. He gave his sister the finger and went to lean up against the fence.

Sorry, Logan mumbled.

Oh, don’t be, Alexis answered. He’s moody and weird. He’s been kind of a grump since he got out of the Marines a couple of weeks ago.

Congrats, Tyler, Logan called out. Tyler gave a nod in acknowledgment, but was otherwise unengaged. Kind of a tough nut, Logan supposed. He could see a tattoo of the Marine Corps emblem across Tyler’s bulging bicep. That explained the muscles on muscles and short-cropped hair.

We’re here to celebrate his transition out of the Marines, John chimed in. A nice two-week vacation in Montana, away from home and the business in Chicago. Then we go back, and Tyler will join my contracting firm.

Oh, cool, Logan responded. Tyler huffed and walked away from the group, saying nothing. Okay then, Logan thought, definitely a grumpy guy.

Logan ended the tour of the barnyard back near the house and left the family to settle in and unpack. The Swanns had optioned for a more self-catered stay while at the ranch. Logan would cook a few of the dinners, but otherwise the family was free to use the kitchen and utensils to cook for themselves. They all headed toward the house and Logan dismissed himself, telling them he was off to the main field behind the house to do some work on a fence he was rebuilding. He always answered his cell phone if they needed anything.

*****

Logan was walking back up through the pasture a little while later when all hell broke loose. Tyler burst out of the backdoor of the house and stomped across the yard to the gate that led into the pastures. He tried two or three times to open the latch unsuccessfully before he kicked the gate with full force, breaking the latch, knocking some boards loose, and completely unhinging the gate, all right in front of Logan’s eyes.

Hey! What the hell? It has a damn latch! Then came Logan’s roll in the grass.

*****

A sheepish Tyler found Logan out in the backfield later that afternoon, moving the irrigation pipes.

I’m really sorry for what I did, Tyler started. I was being an ass.

Logan looked up from the pipe and considered Tyler for a couple of seconds. Apology accepted. It was half me as well. I should’ve just let you go instead of trying to stop you.

My mom said you’d say something like that, ’cause you’re such a nice guy, Tyler responded. But said I wasn’t off the hook either, as it’s not your fault.

Oh, I agree! Logan chuckled. Not my fault at all. I just should’ve stayed out of your way and let you blow through. My pants would still be clean and pride intact if I let the mad Marine storm on his way to the back forty.

Okay, whatever. My mom also told me I better get my butt out here to help you change pipe and then fix the gate, or I shouldn’t bother to come back in the house for dinner or to stay the night.

I bet she did, Logan responded. "Your mom seems like she