Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Shit and shinola, it was hotter than a two-dollar pistol out here. Landon jogged back to the chutes Beau and Mr. Sam had jerry-rigged and grabbed four waters from the bucket. One went to Gramps, one to Nate, and the other to AJ Gardner, who was pulling gate.
Then he sucked his down, the liquid so cold it made his belly cramp up but good. He swallowed convulsively, trying to keep it in while he listened to the steady stream of words Andy Baxter was shooting at Jason Scott. Blind Jason Scott. The man really couldn’t see.
This shit was hard. Beau had AJ bring a couple of rank bulls and, hell, he’d been playing safety man just on the class three bulls and they were full of piss and vinegar.
Maybe they hadn’t been bucked in too long, but it sure seemed like they had it in for everyone, those beasts.
They kept putting their heads down and trying to gore everyone.
“You all right, Nutbutter?” AJ called, grinning at him from across the pen.
“Uh-huh. Running my heinie off.” And he was used to this weather.
“It’s like a big old sponge out here.” AJ came from where it was way drier, out San Angelo way.
“Yessir.”
“Come on, kids. My head’s hurting. Let’s run a couple more and then get in the chilled air.” Gramps was plumb wore through.
“Yeah. I’m about done.” Jason, he was turned green. Landon had found out if Jason kept his eyes open he was okay, but closed eyes made him sick. He really did get spinny, so Adam hadn’t lied to him about that.
“Y’all want some water up there?”
“Thanks, man. Gramps says you’re a Cajun like Bo-Bo?” Jason stared right through him, or so it looked like. The dead gaze was a little unnerving. He wondered if Jason would be willing to go see Sister or if the man would poo-poo her like Brian Taggart.
“Yessir. Bayou to the bone.” He passed up two waters. “I’m a neighbor, me.”
“Well, I sure appreciate the help,” Jason murmured.
“Anything you need.”
“Come on, Landon, get up on the horse.” Nate was like a lathered horse himself, panting and wiping his forehead.
“Surely do.” He mounted up, ready to get the next one down.
It took forever for Jason to get set, the bull crouching low and being a shit. Nate was cussing and poking and AJ got up on the gate to help. The bull kicked and rolled and the gate popped open, AJ going flying.
“Shit! Nattie.” Coke Pharris bellowed, and everyone moved, including Landon. His heels hit the horse’s sides before he even thought.
Jason was tied in the rope, and the bull was pissed as hell, hooves sending Nate cartwheeling. Shit. Shit. Coke was fighting the rope, Jason just dangling and Landon judged the distance, flying off the back of the horse and slamming onto the bull’s neck.
The big old beast snorted and rose up, trying to hit him in the face. Oh, no. No breaking him. Sister needed him.
“Kid! Kid! Here!” Coke had a pocketknife out and Landon grabbed it by the blade, then turned it, sawing at the bull rope.
Jason was flopping like a rag doll, Andy Baxter danced in front of the bull like a chicken with its head off, and Coke and Nate whapped the bull’s ears, hollering, distracting him.
The rope came loose with a snap and Jason went down and suddenly he was the only idiot still hanging onto a bull.
“Ooeee!”
He hung on as hard as he could, because if he went down now, he’d go in the well and hit those horns. He could hear Coke yelling, but none of the words made no sense, and he was sliding.
Landon slipped free and crashed, right into the dirt, which churned under the bull’s hooves. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw AJ crawling toward the fence, tore up but good.
He made himself as tiny as he could, giving the bull’s hooves less chances. They stomped the ground right next to his head, making him wince. Jesu, that was close.
A rope flashed through the air, wrapping around the horns and tugging, dragging the bull off as Coke’s hands wrapped around him and pulled him up and off the ground.
He flew a little, a wild sound ripping out of him as the wind whistled in his ears. He staggered, trying to find a fence.
Mr. Sam stood him up. “Broke you cow damn it with the bells.”
“No shit on that, Mr. Sam. That was some bad juju.” He brushed the dirt off his shirt, wincing as his sliced palm left a nasty swatch of blood. The knife had cut him up right good.
He turned to see who was doing the roping, and his heart did a little flip-flop when he saw Adam Taggart on horseback. Oh, good Lord in Heaven, look at that. There weren’t nothing finer. Was Adam really there, or was that a hallucination?
Dillon Walsh streaked by, going to Mr. Pharris, arms waving wildly.
He stumbled to the fence, eyes searching out Jason who was up and moving, Andy Baxter having his own snit while Nate and AJ played the ‘No shit, there I was’ game.
Okay. Okay, damn. He shook more blood off his hand, then grabbed his kerchief out of his back pocket.
The big gelding Adam rode fetched up beside him so fast he almost fell right over, that big old head nudging him. He looked up into Adam’s clear eyes, which burned with something that sure seemed like anger. “What the hell, Landon? Throwing yourself on that bull?”
“Jason needed help.” No ‘Howdy,’ no ‘You okay?’ No nothing. Just screaming.
“You coulda got yourself killed, damn it!” Adam clenched the reins so hard Landon heard his knuckles creak.
“So?” He stared at Adam, his own temper flaring.
Christ, he was so dumb he couldn’t even help now?
“What does it matter to you?” Adam’s lips opened and Landon snarled.
“Tuat t’en grosse bueche. No more talking.
I ain’t worth shit no ways, according to y’all, and Jason Scott can ride and has schooling and things and is worth more blind than ever I’ll be whole, so I helped.
I didn’t hurt none of the horses, didn’t even hurt nothing but the fucking bull rope and it was Beau’s spare!
Us fucking bayou rats is a dime a dozen and won’t never amount to nothing but spawning a thousand more lying bastards, eh?
Why you keep going with us, then? Pic kee toi.
You don’t get to yell at me, no more! I ain’t worth standing with, I ain’t worth cussing. You go straight to hell, feet pue tan.”
He spit through his fingers and spun on his heel, pulling himself on Sammy’s horse and letting her have her head and run. Mr. Sam knew Cajuns. No one would believe he wouldn’t be back with her.
Eventually.
Adam watched Landon gallop off into—well, not the sunset.
It was still the fucking hottest part of the day, the sun watery and heavy overhead.
Fuck, Landon could ride. There was no separation between that tight Cajun ass and the horse.
Just seeing Landon made him happy, even if his heart had almost stopped when the fool man jumped on the bull.
“You goin’ after him?” Beau asked, whacking his booted foot.
“Not until you tell me what all that French was about.” Adam felt a grin stretch his cheeks for the first time in days. Maybe weeks.
“Well, I can tell you it weren’t pretty or polite, Tag.”
Sammy just hooted like a giant, goofy owl. “Boug, you’d best do with the etoufée. He drink it lots and good.”
“Good idea.” Beau chuckled. “Landon does like the etoufée. If you ain’t riding out after him, help us put the bulls up.”
Adam pushed the gelding into the pen, nodding. “I’ll say my piece later. Hey, Jase. You were looking good until you weren’t.”
“Uh-huh. Shit got a little cockeyed.” Jason grinned like a monkey. “It was fun.”
“It was a disaster.” Andy Baxter seemed like he was fixin’ to explode, all red ears and clenched teeth. Adam might have teased him once upon a time, but now he knew what it was like to worry that much about someone.
“Yep.” That grin didn’t fade a bit. “Everyone okay?” Jason asked.
“AJ took a hit, but he’s okay. Nate? Coke?” Adam surveyed everyone else. He had the freshest eyes.
Nate waved him off, and Pharris rolled his eyes and let the clown rant and foam.
“I’ll get the bulls back to grazing, then. Landon will be okay?”
Beau shrugged. “He’ll run for a bit, then find his way back. He’s staying in the little room behind the barn.”
“Does he stay over a lot?” Adam raised an eyebrow, reeling in his rope, which AJ had gotten off the bull.
“Often as we need him to, I reckon.” Well, that was a non-answer.
He shook his head, deciding to let it go for now. Adam knew he had to make it up to Landon, but he had time. Unless the kid kept tossing himself on top of moving targets.
He heard Jason’s voice, carrying over the air. “Is Tag fucking the little wee Cajun?”
“Mini!” That was Andy, sounding shocked.
Jason snorted. “I’m blind, Bax. I need someone to tell me.”
Sammy gasped, staring at Jase. “Fuck a dog backward, you don’t see?”
Adam hooted. “There you go. Sammy told you that you’re blind.”
“So, you fucking the Cajun? Y’all a thing?”
“Lord, Jase.” Of course, everyone there was batting for the queer team, so he supposed it was okay. “And then some.”
“Oh. Rock on. Andy says he can ride.”
“Ride what?” Adam couldn’t believe that came out of his mouth. “Yeah. He’s good with horses.”
Sammy snorted. “Boug, hot and all, yeah?”
“We’ll get inside in the air, huh? You take Dill and Gramps. I’ll help Adam get the livestock put away.” Beau got to work, too, and Adam had some time to think on Landon.
He was proud of the kid for standing up for himself. In fact, he was fucking tickled. It took a lot for Landon to lose his temper and the fact that he’d done it here, in front of God and everyone, well, it meant something.
Like maybe he really cared.
Adam flicked his rope and started moving cattle. He could use some of that air conditioning.
Chilled air, a beer, and a plan that included letting Landon know he was taken, balls to bones.
Landon took his time with Missy Jellybean, walking and brushing, thanking her for letting him run his snit out. “Lord, girl, I need a beer, me.”