Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
T he last few days had to have been the longest in human history. Brooks had worked hard to just smile and make nice with the kids, but there was nothing for him to do, really. Except cook.
The kids were all warming up to his cooking. Coop tended to assemble food, which was fine, but he’d learned a lot from a camp cook back in his early days working as a cowboy, living at a high camp in the summer with the cattle.
He’d also hung out with the cookie at the station in Australia, too. She’d been a hoot, and happy to teach him the ins and outs of rolled roasts and savory scrolls and making cakes and cookies for smokos.
Tonight they had a sleepover, so maybe he could actually be helpful.
Coop wandered in from God knew where. It wasn’t like the man had any livestock to deal with after all. The beagles yipped at his heels as he stared at his phone.
“Okay, so we’ve got Naomi, we’ve got Nell, we’ve got Dani.
Johnny says his little friend Mike is going to come, but we all know that Mike will have us call his parents about one in the morning, and they’ll have to come by and pick him up.
Mason is bringing the entire goddamn football team.
Lucy, I don’t know with Lucy, but there’ll be somebody.
There’s always somebody. That little girl, Becca, she’s weird, but she’s Lucy’s bestie, so she’s coming.
Rick’s going out. He’s got a date. So we won’t have to worry about that.
Benji—” Coop glanced up at him. “You’re not Benji.
Sorry, man. You’re not Benji. I was talking to Benji. Where the fuck is Benji?”
Brooks had to grin. Coop rattled at him like he was a roughstock rider. “I’m assuming he’s still in his room.”
Coop rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, obviously irritated. “Okay, I’ll go get him. This whole thing where he cannot be in the same room with you is going to have to stop now. I have enough to deal with without this bullshit.”
“Hey, I do too, I didn’t do this to him. I have no idea why he’s so fucking pissed off at me.” And that was the God’s honest truth.
“Well, obviously, because you showed up a year and a half, two years after his folks died.”
“Hey! I didn’t know they were dead!”
Coop arched one eyebrow. “And it didn’t seem odd to you that you hadn’t talked to him in two years? I mean, that’s a long time for two brothers not to speak…”
“Do you talk to your brothers?”
“You bet your sweet ass I do.” Coop shrugged at him.
“I got one brother. I got one sister. We text at least weekly. The brother, Pete, he’s up in Montana being some sort of a hunting guide or something.
It’s very, very macho, and he can’t wait to make enough money to buy a cabin in Colorado and just be some twink’s bear.
My sister, on the other hand, is a chef in New Orleans.
Also very macho. She and her partners are fierce.
My folks are in Dallas. I talk to them every Sunday. ”
Brooks stared for half a second. “Well, Andy and I weren’t that close, but I’m here.
” They had been close when they were kids, but he’d said the wrong thing at the wrong time, then Andy had made it worse, and things had fallen apart.
He didn’t understand why this was so hard to fathom, though.
He was here; he was helping. He didn’t get it. Why was everybody mad at him?
“And I’m incredibly grateful because we’re fixin’ to have a thousand children here in this house, some of whom I’m not completely sure are potty-trained.
So this is a fabulous thing, and I’m totally into it.
Welcome aboard. We’ve got to plan. My little idea of Nell coming to spend the night has become a full-assed friggin’ house party, and I am not capable of dealing with this on my own. ”
“You’re not on your own. I’m here. He doesn’t need to be here.” Benji was just a thundercloud.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, son.” Coop glared at Benji. “You got to give this shit up. You are going to make yourself miserable by holding a grudge for something you’re not even one hundred percent sure that anybody knows what the grudge is about.”
“He can’t just walk in and say, ‘I’m here to fix things’. I fixed things. I did it. If I hadn’t been hurt I wouldn’t have had to call for help, even still, but I didn’t know what else to do!”
All of a sudden, it hit Brooks like a hammer how young Benji actually was. How scared he still was, and how much weight was on this kid. “You did a great job, man.”
Benji looked at him, eyes about as wide as saucers. “What?”
“You did a fabulous job. You managed to keep these kids together and functioning and in school. Hell, Mina wasn’t even in school, and you worked. You did great.”
Benji stood there like he’d been shot or something.
His face went pale, and he started sweating, and Brooks didn’t understand what was going on, but it was obvious that Coop did, because he ran right over.
“Come on, let’s get you set down. It’s all right.
You’re all right. You got this. Breathe in and out. You know how to do this.”
Coop got him sat down in a recliner and then came over to Brooks and nodded to him, voice pitched low. “He’s real young, remember? Real young. This is a lot of pressure and every time something releases that pressure, I think it just gives him a little bit of panic.”
“Ah.” Yeah, Brooks got that. He remembered how it was to be that young and be out on his own and feel like no one had his back. And then when someone did, when someone supported him, he’d feel like he was about to keel over with shock and a little bit of joy. “Yeah, okay. But he did good.”
“Sure he did.” Coop grinned. “Now, we need to batten down the hatches. What kind of stuff do you know how to make for little girls?”
An evil, evil thought occurred to him. “You got sprinkles?”
“Yes. From Lucy’s birthday.”
“What about cookie cutters?”
Coop tilted his head. “Mia wanted some for Christmas, so we got one of those all-holiday sets.”
“Perfect. I need the heart.”
“What for?” Coop was looking a touch stunned now himself.
“Fairy bread.”
“What the hell is that?”
“White bread with butter and sprinkles. It tastes like Funfetti cake.”
Coop gagged. “Can we use frosting? I’ve got a can of vanilla buttercream.”
“Perfect. I can also make savory scrolls.”
“Okaaaaay. And those are?”
“Fancy pizza rolls.”
“I like pizza rolls,” Benji piped up .
Coop rolled his eyes. “Another nation heard from. You need some juice, shock boy?”
“Please? I think I came stomping out of my room too fast. I hurt like the devil.”
Brooks snorted. “I hear that, man. I broke my femur, which by the way was what killed my short-lived bronc riding career, and I would get to feeling better, step on my leg wrong, and just pass right out.”
“Save me from delicate freaking Whiteheads,” Coop muttered.
“Be nice or I’ll use butter on that bread,” he teased.
“You are pure-D evil.”
“Yep.” He said it cheerfully, pulling pizza crust out to plop in the toaster oven. This he knew from his first day here.
“Making yourself downright familiar with my house.”
“I am.” He wasn’t going to get all pissy. “I’m pretty good at adapting these days. Australia was a big shift.”
“What’s the cowboy culture like there?” Coop asked him.
“You never been?”
“Nah. I went down to Brazil once. Up to Canada a lot. But not over there.”
He found all the stuff to make the pizza rolls, then hunted frosting and sprinkles.
“It’s wild. The stations are vast. You take the King ranch and multiply it like, ten times.
But you think someplace like the Four Sixes ranch is barren out in West Texas?
The stations are dry as fuck and there can be miles of nothing. ”
“Good rodeoing?”
“They got some damn big ones. And bullriding events too. But I was in cutting horse and reining. It’s emerging there just like it is here as a big money sport. You know how folks are about horses.”
“Yeah.” Coop shook his head, getting out cookie cutters. A big heart. A star. Stuff that would be great for the bread. “ I had a friend who decided to raise polo ponies. Bought up horses at auction and trained them up, then sold them for a shitload of cash.”
“Nice.” That idea had some merit, actually. It would save a good many horses…
“I can see the wheels turning.”
“Nah. I’m just a delicate Whitehead, remember?”
“Don’t worry about Coop.” Benji grinned, and Brooks had to blink. Whoa. It totally changed his sullen face, and he looked so much like Andy that it hurt. “He thinks he’s invincible.”
Coop arched one eyebrow. “One day, grasshopper. If you’re very lucky, and you get hit by enough bulls, you will also be invincible, assuming your fragile Whitehead bones don’t just crumble under the sheer weight of a bull stare.”
“Shut up.” Benji rolled his eyes. “I’m going to be a good bullfighter. I’m not going to get hit all the time like you do.”
“Please. That is how you build strong bones. You know how they tell you walking builds strong bones? Or falling does? Well, getting hit by bulls means I’ve got amazing bones. They probably have enough little bitty breaks that they are just massive.”
Brooks looked at them both. Bullfighters. Jesus Christ.
He started pottering around in the kitchen.
“I got all this stuff for grape jelly meatballs,” Coop offered. “We can make those up. Little girls won’t eat them, but the boys will.”
“You have to make queso, Coop.” Benji managed to look right at Brooks, and that shocked the hell out of him. “I don’t suppose you know how to make Daddy’s queso?”
Brooks nodded, feeling like the answer to this question was wickedly important. “Yeah, our mom taught us how to make it. You want some? ”
Benji’s lips tightened, his eyes shining for a second, but he nodded. “Yes, please. I didn’t know how to make it.”