Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Kacey bumped against him on the arena floor, grinning like a monkey. “How’s the head?”
“Oh, fuck off, man.” He and Kacey had started drinking beer about five o’clock last night after the Saturday show, which had ended with Hillary going to spend the night with that boy.
Thank God he hadn’t had to get up much earlier than noon because he wasn’t sure exactly what time Kacey had poured him into the bed, but it had been in the small hours.
“Splitting.” And the cookout was today too, so he had to make nice. He couldn’t just go home and sleep. So he had to stop being grumpy.
And not keep glancing at the family box where his daughter sat after riding in the grand entry, with that same boy and his… giant of an “uncle” who had come in like some kind of conquering hero and talked about assistance for the baby like Max’s papa didn’t make 1.4 million a year playing hockey.
Fucker.
Kacey chuckled. Sam called the man his boss since he was the lead bull fighter on his team, but really he was Sam’s best friend. The man got it.
Hell, he’d known Hillary her whole damn life.
“Well, you’re good to work, right?”
“Always, no?” He would never let a cowboy go down because he had a personal problem. They were out there all night, because while the bull riding was their danger zone, horses could be as bad. Worse sometimes, because bulls stomped and hooked, horses aim their kicks.
“I trust you, man.” Kacey glanced at the stands where he was looking. “Now, that guy I wouldn’t trust with a fake pot of gold. He’s like, way too good-looking and crazy poker-faced.”
“Eeee. I know.” He rolled his shoulders, then did a few high knee jumps. “I wonder how much of that is real and how much is to make an example of the boy, yeah?” Maybe it was Evan Halloway’s job to put the fear of God into Max for his daddy…
“You say the boy’s dad is hurt real bad, eh?”
“Yeah, I know, right?” He knew how it sounded, and he guessed he got it.
He knew about getting himself hurt bad.
“That’s a shame. Seems like the baby’s grandfather would be more invested than some rando fake uncle.”
He grimaced against the need to defend the guy, which was all strange. “He seems pretty invested, trust me.”
Kacey chuckled. “Maybe I mean Dad would be easier…”
“Huh. Time to work.” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and they went through the short go until the bull riding, Sam feeling like he was wading through mud the whole time.
But there was no way he was going to let anyone get hurt on his watch, so when the barrel racing was up, Sam guzzled a large iced coffee and jogged a few laps in the back.
He needed a clear head.
And he really did need it. The cowboys went twelve up and twelve down, most in less than five seconds, with a one buck off that ended up in a helicopter spin and a hang-up.
But they made it through the damn day, and soon enough, he was back in his Wranglers and a button-down, his sunglasses on as he drove out to his place.
Thank God his family would mostly be there already with the grills and smokers going, brisket and potato salad and more already done.
He would just have to grill some burgers and wieners and drink lots of water.
No beer.
Kacey rode in with him, but he was sitting back with his eyes closed, so Sam had the impression the man was a little hungover too. And tired.
When they pulled up, they were surrounded, and he had dogs and kids and his ex, and the noise was deafening.
“Let me stow my gear, huh? Give us ten minutes.” He smiled all around, then led Kacey inside, where they both grabbed water bottles, slumping against the kitchen counters.
Thankfully, his mama was out there with the kids right now.
“Jesus, you have a ton of family,” Kacey groused.
“No shit, amigo. No shit on that. Just think, you’ve got two more babies than I do.” He wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world, though. “I wonder what the gringo will think of all this.”
“He’ll probably turn tail and run back to Boston.”
“Only if we’re lucky.” he winked at Kacey. “I hope Mama brought tamales.”
“I hope your Tia Nanette brought those green chile enchiladas. I like them best.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and that old woman thinks you’re the hottest, so I bet they’re here.”
Kacey grinned at him, winked. “You think?”
Kace was more than willing to take advantage of the fact women thought he was the hottest thing ever. He’d never cheat on his Darren—never—but he’d flirt his ass off for some green chile enchiladas and a beer.
Sam got it.
Every so often, Sam had been known to bat his eyelashes for a good plate of spaghetti and meatballs when they were out traveling, especially up in Colorado.
Here, even the spaghetti and meatballs came with chile.
Valerie came in, a glass of wine in her hand, black hair in a neat braid down her back, her dark eyes flashing. “So where are they?”
“Patience, mamita. She’s riding in with them.”
“So is the boy nice?”
He shrugged. “He’s a kid. As nice as any eighteen-year-old boy is.”
“Ay, dios mio! What do you mean?”
“You heard me. He’s a kid. He’s going to college. Fraternities, hockey camp, whatever the fuck that is.”
She shrugged. “You got me. I mean, didn’t you have rodeo camp?”
“Oh, didn’t we?” He glanced at Kacey, who rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, rodeo camp. That’s called rodeo.”
Sam snorted. That was no lie. “You get your card, and you ride.”
Kacey chuckled, the sound a little dark. “Or if you’re like us, and you can’t make that work, you get somebody to pay you to be a damn bull fighter.”
“Yeah, I needed a paycheck; that’s why I became a bull fighter. I had a baby to raise.”
Valerie glanced at him, nodded once. “Yeah, I guess I’m not going to be able to say much. I’m the one who went to college and got into a sorority, huh? Left you with a baby.”
What was he supposed to say to that? It was true. It was also the best thing that’d ever happened to him in his entire life. He couldn’t imagine an existence where he hadn’t raised his Hil. Valerie had done right by herself and right by Hillary.
She was forty-five minutes away. She had paid every penny of child support the entire eighteen years. She was a good mama. It wasn’t her fault that Hillary was his baby girl.
Val sighed, grabbing a Sprite out of a cooler. “Well, I need them to get here. I want to see this boy with my own eyes. And his, what are we calling him? His handler?”
Sam shook his head. “The dad’s best friend, I guess. Some kind of pseudo uncle. Plays hardball. Apparently, he’s like a hockey agent now.”
He’d Googled Evan Halloway. The man had played in the NHL for damn near twelve years. Three time All-Star. His salary, which had been public record, had been obscene.
There was no way this guy really thought Hillary was going to have to be on Medicare and shit. He was running an intimidation game.
Sam wasn’t sure if it was him or Max the guy was trying to intimidate.
He hoped to fuck it wasn’t him. Sam didn’t have time for this shit.
“Didn’t you and Tanya go have dinner with them the other day? Hell, before I even met the uncle?”
Valerie shook her head. “No. The kids were sick, and I didn’t want Hillary to catch anything, and I was on deadline—”
“You’re a shit. You were just avoiding them.”
“Mira, look! I was not.”
Sam stared at her.
“Okay, so maybe I was. But this is hard…”
Kacey snorted. “Oh, woman you just stepped in it.”
No shit on that. Sam stared at her. “It’s hard is it? To deal with your pregnant daughter? And the baby daddy and the uncle? Really challenging. So hard.”
“Ahhh!” She groaned and threw her head back. “I’m sorry. I have three little kids?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“Tanya’s really hormonal?” she tried.
“You want me to tell her you said that?”
“Fuck.” Valerie slapped her hand down on the counter. “So I’m a terrible grandmother. I don’t know what to tell you. I am not old enough to be a grandmother.”
“Way to make it all about you, Val.”
“Kacey, you are not helping.”
Kacey shot Valerie a grin. “That’s not my job. I’m here for him—just him. Not Hillary, not you, him.”
“Lord save me from queer cowboys.”
Sam grinned at her. “Too late.”
“Uh. Excuse me.” The uncle was standing there, eyes wide. “I brought beer.”
“Oh, hey.” He didn’t roll his eyes, but he wasn’t going to freak out or apologize or whatever. “That’s great. There’s a beer cooler on the deck.” He glared at Val for a sec, then moved. “Let me show you.”
“Thanks.”
Evan followed him back outside, two six-packs in hand. The good craft beer shit, too.
“Welcome to the chaos, buddy.” He waved a hand around. “Lots of people to meet.”
Evan’s eyes were wide. “Are these all family?”
“Pretty much.” Sam started pointing folks out.
“That group over there are my cousins The old ones all sitting down there on the yard? That’s my grandparents and some of my aunts and uncles, and—” He stared at the little crowd.
“No. I don’t see Mama, so my mom and dad are around here somewhere.
Valerie is here—she was in the kitchen. That’s Hil’s mom, and her wife is here along with their kids.
I invited Valerie’s folks—they’ll probably be by later.
They had a birthday party to go to for one of their church friends. ”
“Do you have any siblings?”
Sam grinned. This was going to be fun. “I got five sisters and a brother.”
“Oh damn.”
Sam was having a ball. “I’ve got five sisters, a brother, sixteen nephews, twenty-four nieces, twelve greats, too. If you’re keeping track, that’s forty first cousins on my side for Hillary.”
Evan looked like he was gonna stroke out. “How many of them are local?”
“All of us.”
“And you’re the…?”
“I’m the baby. So, it starts at the top with Sebastian. And then there’s Susan, Samantha, Stephanie, Sarah, and Seraphina.”
Evan blinked again. “Seraphina?”
“Hey, I’m just lucky that they decided to just name me Samuel and not Sherlock. They already had a Sam, after all.”
“God almighty.” Evan chuffed out a laughing breath. “I got to tell you, I can’t even imagine that.”
“No? You an only?”
“One older sister. She went into the Air Force.”
“Ah.” Interesting. “Military family?”