Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Hey, Dillweed, come help me feed all the dogs,” Nate called to Dillon.
The morning had dawned cold as a witch’s tit, and Coke was moving slow, but Dillon loved this weather, so he was up and hunting something to do.
“Sure, man.”
There were dozens of them—bassets and border collies, Tag’s bloodhound, three Great Pyrenees, and this gigantic mastiff that looked like she could eat someone in one bite. She was a slobbery lover.
Bassets came running at the sound of the kibbles hitting the bowls, and Dillon chuckled.
“Silly beasts.” Nate shook his head, but Jerome got a longer petting than any of the rest. They were soulmates, his boy basset and Nattie.
“You should see them hunting nutria,” Dillon said.
“Y’all have been down to Beau’s, huh?”
“A short stop, yeah.” He loved Beau’s camp. It screamed Cajun.
Nate nodded, poured out all the kibbles, then stopped, leaned against the post on the big porch. “What was all that about, man? Last night?”
“What?” Dillon frowned, trying to remember making a scene or something.
“All the stuff poking Hoss. He don’t talk about his past, Dillweed. You know that.”
“But why not? I mean, he’s not an ax murderer.” Dillon didn’t get it.
“It bothers him. Some guys have doors they done shut, locked and walked away from. Coke’s like that. He built a life. Leave the bones alone.”
Dillon stared at Nate. “So, wait, you know? Like you know what’s so weird?”
“What do you mean? Know what? That he don’t talk about it, that he don’t celebrate his birthday? Sure, I know. I mean, we’ve been friends damn near since the beginning.”
“Yeah, but when was the beginning?”
“Dillweed, just drop it. Let it go. What’s it going to help, pushing buttons?”
“I want to understand him, Nate. I need to. I love him.” People who loved each other shared everything, good and bad.
“Don’t you understand him? He’s the best of all of us. He was lost, now he’s found. The good Lord made him a new man. That ought to be enough.”
“But—” Dillon cut himself off, because Tag had said something so similar it made him pause. “Okay.”
“Good.” Nate grabbed him, gave him a noogie. “You make him happy, man. More than I’ve ever seen. That’s a big deal.”
“It is.” It was a huge deal to Dillon.
“Good. Cheyenne’s making breakfast. Bacon.”
“My favorite.” He loved an egg white frittata with tofu as well, but Nate would stare if he said that.
Honestly, when they left here, he was heading to a high dollar place and ordering a spinach soufflé. Oh, or eggs Benedict with extra hollandaise.
And he’d get Coke waffles with all the strawberries and whipped cream a manly dude could eat. God, he loved Coke’s sweet tooth.
“You have goofy dork face on. I’m going to eat and get out of the cold.”
Dillon flipped Nate off. “It’s downright balmy.” He could eat, though. He really could. Bacon and grits. He hoped.
The kitchen was full of Gardners, Taggarts, and Brazilians, and Dillon was given a chair and a platter of food, along with a huge cup of the worst coffee ever. He looked for Coke, who wasn’t about, then grabbed the milk.
“Gramps is sleeping. Daisy went in to wake him up and they’re both asleep with Benji and my Ginny now.” Lassie Gardner winked at Dillon. “He’s like a heating pad and he said he didn’t mind.”
“Oh, he’ll love that. They’re like heating pads to him, too.” Coke got so sore when it got cold.
He dug in, feeling like one of the family, especially when a little boy climbed up on his lap and shared his breakfast with him.
He was fairly sure that was one of Nate’s.
Dillon could usually remember when only one family was about, but this place was like a garden of children. Pick a color, size and age, and boom.
Babies.
Tracy traded out one child for another, and added bacon to his plate.
Dillon grinned at her before making a bacon and toast sandwich. Yum.
“Can I have a bite? Uncle Poppy’s sleeping.”
“Sure, kiddo.” He tore off a quarter of his sandwich and handed it over. “Uncle Poppy is tired.”
“Uh-huh. Him’s a bullfighter. He can beat up a whole bull.”
“You know it.” Dillon knew how many things broke when Coke tried.
She opened up. “A bite.”
He popped some bacon in her mouth and wondered on his life. How on earth had he ended up here? Not that he didn’t love his big new extended family. They were nuts but Dillon adored the sense of belonging.
Nate came in, stomping off his boots. “Fixin’ to get bitter out there, y’all.”
“Come have some coffee,” Tracy said. “Everything is hot.”
“Thanks, woman.” Nate leaned down, kissed her. “You trying to steal my baby girl, Dillweed?”
“She only loves me for my bacon.”
“Well, it is your best feature, man.”
Dillon flipped off Nate over the kid’s head, grinning when Tracy popped Nate’s ass.
“Behave, both of you,” Tracy said.
“Oh, now. I don’t think that’s possible.” Coke came in, a wee one in one arm. “Slept in, huh?”
“Yeah.” Dillon popped the kid on his lap over on Nate’s. “I’ll get you some breakfast.”
“I can get it.” Coke sat, though, nodded to him.
“I don’t mind.” He liked to do for Coke, and Dillon filled a plate with eggs and toast and bacon.
Tracy handed him Coke’s cup of coffee and a bottle of Advil. He loved that she didn’t feel like she had to explain why.
Coke dutifully swallowed two pills as well as the vitamin D Dillon handed over. Doc had said the NSAIDs could impair the ability for Coke’s bones to heal, and had suggested the D. Dillon took all kinds of vitamins, so he snuck Coke in some a lot.
It was a thing, just like it was a thing that Coke pretended not to notice he was feeding them to Coke.
Tracy chuckled and showed him the handful of pills she was about to give to Nate.
Bullfighters. Jesus. Stubborn assholes.
Dillon munched another piece of bacon before Tag called him out to the back porch. “Feel that air, Yankee boy. Got cold.”
“Crazy. The digits drop faster here than anywhere I’ve ever seen.”
“Norther,” Dallas said. “Freaky.”
“No shit on that. How’s your brother?”
“Which one? Austin called this morning and Missy’s fixin’ to explode. Denver’s at his house, threatening to come work the cattle with his busted leg. Houston and Cierra have Janey over to their house and she keeps crying for her momma and refusing to eat.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Dillon had no idea what he could do to help, but he was good at entertaining people.
“The boys are coming with Brenda and Jack.” Coke stood behind him. “You’ll have stuff to do, cowboy.”
“Do I?” Oh, that was good. “Point me and shoot me.”
“I’ll let you be in charge of Bax and Jase. Dallas will put Jack to work. Brenda will want to go up to the hospital.”
“Shee-it. My wife’s done stopped at the horse-pistol, Coke. She’s gon’ help Miz Gardner get ready to come home.” An older cowboy stood there, grizzled and tanned.
“Speak of the devil. How’s it hanging, Jack?” Coke reached over to shake the man’s hand.
“Good. Tired. Glad to be here.” Jack winked at Coke. “I’m tickled as a pig in shit that the boys brought their own truck.”
“I bet you are. Jack, this is Dillon Walsh. Dillon, Jack.”
“Hey.” Dillon had heard a lot about this man, but somehow never managed to meet him.
“Mr. Dillon. I seen you at the shows. You can sure sing and I like that you don’t tell fat wife jokes.”
“Thanks.” Dillon meant it, too. Life was too funny to need those old saws. He stayed away from wife jokes, politics, and anything about sex.
Clowns in liberal houses didn’t need to hand cowboys any stones.
“Andy and Jase should be here. They were jawing with AJ.”
“Is he back from the hospital, then?” Coke asked.
“Yeah. He needs food and a shower and a long nap.”
“I bet he does.” Coke squeezed his shoulders. “I’ll go check in. Dillon, go herd the boys in, will you?”
“Will do.” Whatever Coke needed. Dillon nodded at Jack before bouncing outside to save AJ from Andy Baxter and Jason Scott, who were probably starved for company.
“Dillon!” AJ gave him a wild eye. “Hey, look who’s here!”
“Hey, guys.” Dillon trotted over, touching Jason’s arm to warn him he was incoming for a hug. “Man, it’s good to see you.”
“Been awhile.” Jason hugged him back as AJ disappeared like a puff of smoke.
“Yeah. I bet you guys are stir crazy, huh? We’ve been overrun with Brazilians, man.”
“Brazilians?” Bax frowned over. “They… I mean, what do they know, man?”
“Balta knows all. He sent everyone but Joa away yesterday. He has your back.” Dillon tucked Jason’s hand into the crook of his elbow.
“Oh. Okay.”
“Coke’s gonna tell every fucking rider on tour,” Bax muttered.
“It’s gonna take help to keep Jase alive. It’s not the on the bull part we have to stress, damn it.”
“I’m sorry,” Jason said. “I hate that everyone is fucking stressing me, but I cain’t just sit down and die. I tried it and y’all wouldn’t let me.”
“Oh, shut up, you asshole.” Bax popped Jason in the arm, hard enough that it smacked.
“Ow!” Jason tried to strike back and got tangled up with Dillon, who oofed.
“Children,” Dillon said. “Behave.”
Jason started laughing and Bax rolled his eyes, but let it go. Someone was stressed out and needing some ‘not at Momma’s house’ time. Andy could be a moody bastard.
“Anyway, Jase, it’s gonna be loud, but no one is here you need to hide it from.”
“Good deal. I just want to be home, yeah?”
“I hear you.” God, Dillon wanted to be home with Coke, either one of their homes, floating in a hot tub.
Coke’s life was good, but exhausting and the drama never stopped. Hell, Dillon was ready to go back on the road to get some routine in. At least that drama was normal and there was always Jonesy to help give someone a shot of something to relax them.
He chuckled. Those shots were stunning.
“What’s funny, man? You have to share.” Jason was managing better, walking taller these days.
“Morphine.” He knew no one would get it, but the guys were used to that with him.
“Morphine.” Bax rolled his eyes. “Does he creep you out a little, Mini?”
“Little bit.”