Chapter 17 #2
“Uncle Coop? What do you like to do for Christmas?” Lucy asked immediately, stuffing eggs in her mouth.
“Uh.” Coop raised his eyebrows at him, and Brooks shrugged. “I like to watch silly Christmas movies. And my family always put on Christmas music and sang, and we left it and the tree lights on all night.”
“Oh, can we do that?” Mina asked. “I like Christmas songs. And I can sing.”
Brooks hid his grin. Mina bellowed like a truck driver, out of tune and ten octaves lower than her speaking voice. She was a hoot.
“We can. I think that would be great. And we’ll have cheese and pavlova tonight for our snacks.”
“What’s pavlova?” Johnny asked. “Is that like Pavlov’s dog? ”
“More like Schrodinger’s cat,” Coop murmured. “If it’s mostly air is it still food?”
“You hush and eat your eggs, babe.”
Coop winked broadly at him and twirled an imaginary moustache.
He stuck out his tongue before he realized the kids were watching them like people would watch a tennis match. Then his cheeks heated, and he bit into his toast to keep his mouth shut. Lord help him, he didn’t need to show his ass in front of the kids.
Coop’s low chuckle didn’t help. It slid over him, making him warm as anything. Like seriously. But that wasn’t a bad thing.
“Johnny said that you’re getting married.” Mina stared at them. “Which one of you is going to be the mommy?”
Brooks pondered just sliding underneath the table and staying there. It seemed like the most logical thing to do.
Coop arched an eyebrow, glancing at Benji, but it was Lucy who came to the rescue. “That’s not how gay works. One of them is not the girl. And they can get married if they want to.”
Mina frowned deep. “But somebody has to be the mama, right?”
“No, if you have two dads, you have two dads. And neither one of these are our dads. These are our uncles.” Lucy was as straightforward and logical as all get-out.
“So they’re just Uncle Coop and Uncle Brooks?” Mina asked, and Lucy nodded.
“Yes, they’re just Uncle Brooks and Uncle Coop. That’s it.”
“Oh, okay. Can we make cookies now?” Mina grinned at Johnny. “See? It’s okay. Sister says so.”
“Cool.” Johnny visibly relaxed. “ I have to finish my eggs before I make cookies. And wash my hands. We all have to wash our hands. I learned about that in school.”
Mason rolled his eyes. “Can I have more eggs?”
“You had cereal,” Ricky said, his eyes wide. “Jesus Christ, man.”
“What? I’m still hungry? There’s lots of eggs. We have chickens.” Mason wrinkled his nose. “I never want to have to be skinny for some girl.”
“Thank God for that, chubster.”
Benji and Coop growled in unison. “Enough.”
Ricky looked to Brooks for assistance, and he shook his head. “Body-shaming is not cool, man. For you or anyone, and Mason can have eggs. It’s no big deal; I can make more eggs. Does anybody else want more eggs?”
Benji raised his hand like he was in school. “I would like some more eggs, please.”
That little son of a bitch was too tickled for his own good. Brooks would kick his ass, but who knew what he might re-break if he did, and then Benji would stay home longer.
“Me too?” Coop said softly. “I’ll take some more too, if you’re making them. Who else wants eggs?”
“I do! Are there going to be cimmamin rollies in the morning?” Mina asked. “I like cimmamin rolls.”
Brooks gave Coop a kind of wide-eyed look, mouthing “I forgot the yeast”, and Coop winked.
“Let me call over to the ranch house. I bet that there are cinnamon rolls somewhere for tomorrow. Give me two shakes.”
It was a great thing that Coop could just do that, get on the phone and say, “Hey, could you please make the world give me exactly what I need?”
Of course, to be fair, Coop paid it back. He was raising five kids and whatever Benji was. So Brooks guessed he really couldn’t criticize the man for calling around to see if he could get someone else to make cinnamon rolls.
Coop came back in with his phone to his ear from the kitchen with the coffee pot, warming up his coffee on his way back to the kitchen to make eggs, passing like ships in the night.
He heard. “—Yeah, that’d be great this afternoon. I think that’s a fabulous idea. I appreciate it very much. Thank you.” He hung up and gave the kids a wide grin. “Cinnamon rolls have been arranged. They will be here for tomorrow morning and we will have Christmas cinnamon rolls.”
“Thank you, Uncle Coop,” they all sing-songed.
“What else is Christmas morning breakfast?” Lucy asked.
“Ask your Uncle Brooks. Whatever y’all want.”
“Can I have piano lessons?” Mina asked, and Brooks kind of blinked.
Now that was new.
And he swore to God if Coop found a way to get that child a piano by Christmas Day, he was going to swallow his own tongue.
“Well, I guess we can arrange that. Sure. If you really want to do it.”
He heard Johnny pop up with “Oh! I would love to learn to play piano. Did you know that music and math are the same thing?”
“No, they’re not.” That was Mason. “Music is art. Math is…uh…math. Math is like science.”
“No. Music is like science because they both use math.”
“Music is art. God, you argue about everything.”
Uh-oh, he came back out of the kitchen, eggs in hand.
“Guys.” Coop looked at Johnny and Mason. “Santa Claus is watching you, and so am I. Mason, Uncle Brooks is making you more eggs. Johnny, finish your eggs and go wash your hands so that you can make cookies. Mina, I will talk to you and Johnny both about piano lessons.”
The three eldest were very quiet. Very.
That was real peaceful, he had to admit. He grinned, serving up eggs. If he let them serve themselves, the older ones would take everything and leave nothing for the littles.
They all ate, and then there was a mass exodus to the kitchen to wash up so they could make the last batches of cookies.
“You going to be around this afternoon?” Coop asked him.
“Uh… Yeah.” Where else was he going to be? But he wasn’t going to ask that, because Coop was so elaborately casual that he had to be up to something.
“Cool. I’ve got a delivery coming, and I’ll need help.”
“I’ll be here.” He grinned, because Coop was looking anywhere but at him.
“Thanks. Holler if you need me in there.”
“Will do.”
The morning flew by, all the kids, and finally even Coop helping with the cookies, and by the time they’d frosted the last batch, he heard the rattle of a trailer in the yard.
“If that’s a piano,” he murmured to Coop.
“Nope. Come on. Bundle up.”
“Okay.” He hauled on his shirt jacket, his coat, his boots, and a hat and gloves. It was bitter out there.
The trailer was a fancy, climate-controlled rig, and it was big enough for four animals. He’d driven one like it a lot in Australia.
“What’s this, babe?” he asked Coop.
“Something for you.” Coop’s little grin made him tilt his head.
“Something for me?” He watched as the driver hopped up and grabbed a clipboard out of his cab .
“Hey. Mr. Adams?”
“That’s me,” Coop said.
“Well, here’s the delivery you asked for.” The guy winked broadly. “If you can sign, and then show me where to unload?”
“Brooks, where do you want them to go?”
“‘Them’ who?”
“The horses.”
He blinked, trying to figure out what Coop meant. “You get more horses for the kids?”
“Hmmm? No. These are for you.” Coop signed the form on the sheet. “Why don’t you hop in the truck and tell him which barn to go to. You just finished up the quarantine, right?”
“Uh-huh?” He did as Coop asked, climbing up next to the driver. “So, it’s just up there. The smaller of the two left-side barns.”
“Cool.” They eased into motion, the guy driving up to the barn.
“So, uh, what is this?”
“Couple of horses. I’ll let Mr. Adams tell you about it.”
“Oh.” Damn. Well, he would just have to wait the oh, twenty seconds, he guessed.
“Here we go.” The guy got out, and Brooks thought he should have asked his name. “Do you need me to help prepare some stalls?”
“I did that while the kids were making cookies,” Coop said, walking up to meet them. “So, let’s do this so you can get to Boulder to see your sister, Ted.”
“Oh, the boss told you, huh?” The guy grinned. “Should have known he would tell you all, Mr. Adams.”
“I appreciate you driving them up.”
Brooks glanced back and forth between them. “What the heck is going on? ”
“I have a friend who raises cutting horses down in Texas. He sent a couple of his stock up for you.”
“To breed?” His eyebrows went up.
“Nah, to keep,” Ted said. “Though they are a breeding pair.”
Once the gate opened and the mare was out… He sucked in his breath. “Holy shit. Look at her.”
The mare had perfect conformation for a cutting horse, and she was a gorgeous roan color with a few white markings.
The stallion was—Well, words failed him there.
“Coop. How did you do this?”
“Oh, you know. Harry is retiring next year, and neither one of his kids give a hoot for horses. So he’s going to sell most of his stock, but these were his two favorites.
So he gave me a good deal since you’re just starting your own stable, and he liked the idea of someone using his prize pair to do that.
They won’t just disappear into some rich asshole’s bloodline. ”
Brooks stared at the pair, then shook off his shock. These two needed to be in the barn, and he needed to get the heat on in there, just on super low. They would have to adjust to the cold up here nice and easy if they’d come from Texas.
“Merry Christmas, Brooks. Here’s the papers and all.”
Brooks blinked at Coop, just about stupid. He’d been given a lot of gifts over the years, but this was absolutely stunning. “Merry Christmas. I?—”
He grabbed Coop, kissed him, good and hard, then let him go. “I got to get these babies inside.”
“Pansy and Max. Have fun.”
“Oh, I will. Lord have mercy.” He beamed at Coop, then started with Pansy. She was so damn pretty, and she was well-formed to have babies, nothing delicate about her. Coop stayed with Max, as Ted had unloaded and headed off with the trailer post- haste.
The other horses whinnied and called, desperate to meet the new guys.
Pansy pranced, clearly eager as well. “You only have to stay in quarantine a few days, lady. I bet your old owner had all the tests and shots you needed to cross state lines.”
She bobbed her head, as if she were agreeing with him, hooves clicking as she danced.
He put her in her stall, then started the heater system he’d put in place. It was solar, which he was super proud of. Coop had let him have carte blanche, even offering to help finance things.
Then he went back for Mr. Max.
Lucy was sitting on the fence, watching Max with wide eyes. “He’s awful pretty, isn’t he?”
“He is. I don’t know his temperament yet, though, so you need to stay up there, right now, okay?”
She chuckled and nodded. “That’s what Uncle Coop said.”
“Stallions can be a little picky about company,” Coop murmured.
“That they can. Once I get him in a stall, you can come meet Miss Pansy, okay? She seems to be a dollbaby.”
“Okay. I’ll just hang out here.”
Coop smiled at them both, nodded once. “I’m going to head inside so we don’t have a Mina out here. It’s bitter.”
“Be in soon. Coop?—”
Coop turned to him, raising an eyebrow.
“Thank you.” That didn’t begin to cover it, but he meant it with all his heart.
“You’re more than welcome, honey. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” And it was going to be. Dammit.
The first one he’d really had in years.