Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
C oop washed the last dinner dish about eleven o’clock at night. He’d spent the time between supper and now helping with homework, making sure baths were done, teeth were brushed, stories were told, and kids were in bed.
Benji had also called, needing a good bit of encouragement after he and his amateur crew had taken a beating at the small stock show they were working.
So once he wiped his hands dry and went to flop on his bed—he still needed to take a shower—he called Brooks. It should be about five o’clock in the afternoon where Brooks was, the next day, for fuck’s sake, and he would be able to talk even if it was a competition day.
Thank God Brooks had gotten the international phone plan.
“Hello, babe.”
“Hey, honey.” Just hearing Brooks’s voice made him smile. He kinda felt like he hadn’t realized how much he’d gotten used to Brooks being there, helping and loving on him, until the man had left. But it had been a week now, and Coop was having withdrawal. “How’s it going?”
“Ugh. I swear, I remember now why I was looking for a reason to leave this job a year before I actually did,” Brooks muttered. “This is so damn not cool.” Then Brooks sighed. “How are you, babe?”
“Tired, honey. The kids have been running my ass ragged. But we all thought about you tonight when I pulled out that lasagna you had put in the freezer for me.”
“Yeah? I miss all of you like the proverbial sore tooth. And I can’t sleep. Not even with the station bulldog in my bed.”
“Missed you, did he?”
“Yeah. The cattle dogs give no shits, but Winston is my buddy.”
“You should sneak him home with you.” Speaking of dogs, Suki wandered in, clearly having decided his bed was safer than Lucy’s. She kicked.
And as soon as Suki was up, Thor and Loki came in, nails clicking.
“Yeah, I doubt he would get along. He’s stubborn.”
“And we all know Thor is the undisputed big dog.” That silly beagle thought he was ten feet tall and bulletproof.
“Yep. They with you?”
“They just arrived.”
“Ah, so you only now got to bed? Coop, it’s late there.”
“It’s been hard to get Mina and Johnny to sleep.”
“Shit.” Brooks blew out a breath. “Well, I have three solid candidates, and we’re meeting them all tomorrow at the event. So I should be home in a few days.”
“Good. Media room is done. I want to watch a movie with you. With the door locked.”
“Woo.” Brooks laughed, and he heard a murmur, and then Brooks telling someone he was on the phone.
“Everything okay? ”
“Just Cookie wanting some help with potatoes. She can wait.”
“So is this the same cook?”
“Nope. This is number-two new cook since I left.”
“Good Lord and butter.”
“Yeah. Things went south fast, I guess.” There was a pause. “I miss you. All of you, but you in particular, Coop.”
Coop got it. He really did. The bed was too big, and everything was too cold, somehow. “I hear you. I been taking care of your horses.”
“You have, have you?” Coop thought maybe Brooks loved the horses as much as them. “How are they doing?”
They were horses. They lived outside. But Coop shrugged and smiled. “They’re fine, I guess. I mean, they’re horses. They’re out there doing horsey things and making horsey noises. Lucy comes out there with me every afternoon, and we give them some love. That little girl is horse crazy.”
“I’m fairly sure all thirteen-year-old girls are horse crazy. Have you convinced Johnny to go out there with you?”
Coop couldn’t have fought his snort for love or money.
“Are you kidding? Honey, there is no way that boy would never even leave the house if he didn’t have to.
I did find a piano teacher though. She’ll be coming to the house and then Mina, Johnny, Mason, and Lucy are all going to get piano lessons at first.”
Brooks gasped, the sound oh so dramatic. “Mason? My tough guy? The bulldogger-in-training, left-tackle-to-the-stars Mason?”
“The heart wants what the heart wants, man.”
Brooks laughed. “I reckon it does. God, my heart wants to be home and taking you to Tequila’s so I can watch you eat sopapillas.”
Coop’s cheeks went hot. “Talking dirty to me now, huh? ”
“Got to keep the fire alive, Coop.” Brooks’s voice was full of laughter.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a butthead.” He cackled though, didn’t he. “Hire your people, Brooks, and come home to us. We’re ready for you to be back where you belong.”
He was fine—honest he was—but they had a good thing going, and a family of little ones that needed attention and routine.
And Coop was ready to be back to being a couple of men making their lives together, dammit.
It was way less fun alone.
“Pete, I need to go home.”
“Aw, now, Brooks. I need you here.”
He scowled, his mood as black as the clouds rolling in today. That kind of storm was never good news around these parts. And he could feel it in the air. So could the horses.
“Look, I’ve done your competition and won you a big check.”
“I know.” Pete beamed at him, clapping his big hands with satisfaction. “You’ll get your commission.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I’ve done what you asked. Jacob Nash, Carter Hall, and Simon Noori would all be amazing choices to do my old job.” He kept having to make that distinction. He didn’t work for Pete now. He was here as a favor and working on a contract basis.
But Pete was holding him hostage by not hiring anyone.
“Now, Brooks?—”
“No. Pick someone. Now. Today.” Dammit. His phone rang, and he checked it. “Sorry, Pete. Gotta take this.”
He hit the button and walked away from the source of his black mood. “Hello? ”
“Uncle Brooks?”
“Well, hey there, Miss Lucy. What’s up?”
“Are you coming home ever?” She was crying, and Brooks so didn’t like that.
“Now, honey. You know I am. I just…” Am being held hostage by this idiot. “Things got a little hinky, but it won’t be much longer. I’ve just got to get this guy to make a decision and pay me my money. Now, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“I just—We miss you, and Ricky’s being all weird, and he got a job—like a real job.
And the piano teacher lady is mean, and she says that I’m stupid, and I’m not stupid just because I can’t do this like the boys can.
She’s just mean, and I’m not stupid! But I don’t want to say anything to Uncle Coop because she’s the only one who’ll come out here to give lessons, and everybody else is better at it.
I want you to come home so that we can have the horses, so that I’m okay. I’m good at being with the horses.”
That liked to break his heart. “Oh, honey, you’re good at a lot of things?—”
“Don’t treat me like I’m a baby!” she snapped. “I know that I’m not as good at stuff as everybody else. I’m not like, uh, what did they call it? Johnny is an idiot saver?”
“Your brother is not an idiot savant.” Brilliant, and a little odd, sure, but that was how brains worked.
“Well, whatever it is that he is, I’m not.
And you should see Mason on this damn piano.
He just knows how to do it. Then there’s Mina.
She’s cute and everybody thinks she’s the best and adorable.
I got all brothers and then one sister and everybody’s better at everything but me.
And I want you to come home so that there’s another horse lover here! ”
“I want to come home too. I really miss you and everyone and Coop. Look, I tell you what, I have a job for you.”
“You do?” She sniffed hard, and she blew her nose, the sound loud in his ears. “What?”
“Miss Pansy is needy, kiddo. Real needy. I know you’ve been working with Coop, keeping them fed and in and out of the barn, and loving on them. But Miss Pansy needs more than that. She needs to work in the ring a little.”
“How can I do that without riding her?”
He explained to Lucy how she could take Pansy out on a lead, with Coop or Ricky to keep an eye out for her, and work Pansy on her turns and stops. By the time he was done outlining all that, she had stopped crying and was giving him her ideas.
He was going to have to get Coop to take her over to Kase’s to ride again, and soon.
“Okay, kiddo. So you can do that?”
“Uh-huh, I can do it. Are you going to tell Uncle Coop it’s okay? He worries. He worries about us a whole lot. You’re going to be home for spring break, right? And Ricky’s birthday? Uncle Coop says if you’re home, maybe we can go camping. Or if it’s too cold for camping maybe even skiing.”
“Don’t you worry, young lady, I will be home.
I will be home by spring break. I hopefully will be home in just a couple of days.
Now, can I talk to your Uncle Coop? I want to be able to let him know that that’s cool for you to have her out in the ring.
” And he wanted to find out what the fuck was happening with this piano teacher bitch that made his oldest girl cry.
“Yep, he’s paying bills. Just a second, Uncle Coop, it’s Uncle Brooks for you.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. Go get your reading done real quick, would you? Hey, old man, how you doing?” Coop sounded a little grumpy. A little distant, but not bad. Maybe he was just busy.
“I told Lucy that she could take the horses out in the ring, not riding them, but leading them. Maybe you could take her to the Chiara’s to ride again? She needs something to do. ”
“She’s got a ton to do, but I hear you. She can take that mare out, yeah, but I don’t feel comfortable with her taking the stallion out, so…”
“No, no, Pansy is fine.” He had to remember that Coop was not really a rancher. He was a bullfighter with land and beagles. “She is awful upset, you know?”
“Yep. She and Barbara Meadows got into a tiff today about the piano lessons. Barb just doesn’t seem to get it through her head that everybody’s starting from scratch.
So the little ones don’t know what they don’t know.
And Mason is like some natural, and Lucy’s just not.
I told her she didn’t have to take the damn lessons if she didn’t want to. ”
“She just worries that she’s not good at anything, man. And maybe Barbara isn’t a good fit for her.” Shit, Coop was growly. Brooks didn’t blame the man. He felt the same way…
“I think she needs to stick it out for a little bit longer. I did talk to Barbara, though, and told her to never call my kid stupid again. Ever.”
Brooks chuckled. “Good man. You have your finger on the pulse of things.”
“I’m not sure about that. I think we all need a bit of a shock from the paddles.”
“Coop, I promise, I’ll be home soon.”
“Good.” Coop sighed, and he could almost see the man pinching the bridge of his nose or rubbing the back of his neck. He sounded worn. “We need you, dammit.”
“I need you too.” He did. He’d been lonely for years, and it hadn’t mattered, because he hadn’t thought he had anyone to ease it.
Now he had a family, and he wanted to be with them every day and be part of the ups and downs and their love. He fucking basked in the love he was already getting without having earned it.
He wanted to deserve them .
“Come home, honey. Okay?”
“Okay, Coop. I’m coming. Just don’t give up on me yet.”
“Not yet,” Coop said with a laugh. “Ah, shit, Gotta go. I love you. Bye.”
Stunned, he stood there and stared at his phone. Shit, that was going to bake his noodle until he got home.
Did Coop really mean it, or had he just said it because that was what Coop said when he hung up with family…