Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Okay.
Coke had survived the drive from Great Falls.
Through the mountains.
Through fucking Denver.
He’d survived a fourteen-mile grasshopper swarm that turned the plastic bag he’d wrapped his hand in to goo. If he’d had any sense, he’d have broken the right one, so then he could have spread the hand out over the passenger seat.
He’d survived trying to pee in rest stops where he couldn’t see his own cock for the brace.
He’d survived a thousand cups of coffee.
What broke him?
Pulling into a fucking Woody’s in Amarillo, too close to the ditch. He couldn’t pull forward and he couldn’t turn to look back and he couldn’t fucking figure out what to do, he was hurting so bad.
So he did what they all did when the shit hit the fan. He called the Taggart boys.
And, just like he knew they would, the triplets said they’d come.
They had to come up from Floydada, which would take an hour and some, so he tried to settle, drink his next horrible coffee. Maybe he could grab a nap.
“Lord, Coke, you look like shit.” One of the boys leaned against a display of corn nuts just beside the little café booth, the other grinned over his brother’s shoulder.
“Saw the truck. You steal it or buy it?” the second one asked.
“It’s one of Bonner’s, you asshole. His daddy runs a used car lot in Great Falls. I did the boy a favor once.”
“Oh, well. You want to keep it, or try to sell it to a local?” The Taggarts would have brought their big dualie, so it wasn’t like he had to have it.
“I don’t want it. Y’all can have it, iffn you want. Which one of you is which?”
The one in front grinned. “I’m Brian. That’s Chris. Adam headed to your place, to get it ready for you. Says he knows where the key is.”
“Thanks, boys.” He stared Chris in the eyes, then Brian. “Take me home, y’all? I’m so tired.”
“You bet. You need to hit the head?” They looked so much alike, and so much like their oldest triplet, Adam, who had helped Coke out more than once.
“No. I just want to get on my pony and ride.”
He just wanted to be home.
“We can sure do that, Coke. Come on.” Brian stayed to help him up, and Chris got the doors, and God it felt good to sit in the big back of the king cab and not have to be all stiff and hold his arm out.
They’d brought him pillows so he could rest, lean back and breathe. “Thank you, boys.”
“No worries, Coke.”
“You just relax, and we’ll get you home.”
“You’re good to me.” Hell, Adam and Brian’d been…more than just good to him a couple three times.
“Anything for you, Coke.” ‘Course, he’d helped the Taggart boys out a lot, too. There’d been a time, after their daddy died, that the ranch was about to go down, and Coke had loaned out his nest egg…
He closed his eyes, sighing softly. He was going to sleep it off. He had eight hours to do nothing but rest.