"Where the hell is that boy?" Jack Barton asked gruffly as he refilled his coffee cup. "He was supposed to be helping me with that broken fencing today."

"I don't know, Grandpa, I haven't seen him." His granddaughter Lou Fleming said. Her voice was matter-of-fact and brisk, as it always was, and her black waves were, as always, brushed to perfection.

"Doesn't that hair of yours ever get messy?" he demanded. "Do you even sleep?"

Again Lou didn't look up from her laptop. "I'm working, Grandpa."

"On what, may I ask? Is this that internet boyfriend again?"

"Grandpa, you've met him already."

"I still can't get used to the fact that you're dating an oilman."

"His name is Peter, Grandpa, and I love him." This time Lou did look up, and her eyes held daggers.

"I'm sorry. Is it Peter you're working on?" he asked, raising his eyes as though asking if the rephrased question was to her liking.

"No," Lou seemed to accept that answer, and went back to gluing her eyes to the electronic screen. "It's the budget around here."

"Budget? We have a budget?"

"We do, Grandpa, and our finances are tighter this week than they should be." Lou informed him. Her phone buzzed, and she smiled as she stood from the table.

"Is that the internet boyfriend?"

Lou shot him a dark look and exited the room. "Peter, hi!"

Jack rolled his eyes and looked out the window to see his other granddaughter, Amy, walking onto the porch. Unlike Lou, she looked like she had actually been working--coat on, boots on, hay in her hair. That's what he liked to see.

"Hi Grandpa," she said as she entered, and she gave him a brief hug before opening the fridge for an apple.

"Have you seen Ty?" he demanded, looking towards the barn. "That boy was supposed to help me with the broken fencing an hour ago."

"He had a late night, Grandpa." Amy told him, biting into her apple. "I think he's sleeping in a little."

"A late night? Doing what? I heard that truck of his rattle in here at one in the morning."

"I think he was out drinking with Caleb."

"Will that boy ever learn what a hangover is?"

"Maybe he hasn't had one bad enough yet."

"You mean a full-blown one?"

"Yeah,"

"Because you know what a full-blown hangover is?"

"No, I don't, Grandpa." Amy rolled her eyes. "My point is, let Ty sleep a little. I'm sure he'll be fine by lunch. He's been working a lot lately. He could barely even sit up a few minutes ago. I think that's proof that he's been working hard."

"Yeah, I suppose so." Jack grumbled, crossing the kitchen and opening the door. "But you tell him, if his ass isn't at that fencing by noon, he's gonna be hightailing it out of here."