Sammy nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I reckoned. We could be in our bed tomorrow night.”
“We could. I could just…” Beau trailed off when Dallas’ head popped up over the side of the roof.
“Y’all know where Momma went?”
“Went into town with Missy and Cheyenne.” Beau grinned. “You gonna help?”
“Roof? Shit, no. I’m going to…uh…work on Missy’s truck.”
Evil little shit.
“Just don’t call your damned brother. He’s working fence and is looking for a reason not to.”
“Which one?”
“Denver.” Beau gave Dallas an evil glare. “I mean it, you lazy butt.”
“Shee-it, I ain’t lazy. I just am avoiding some of the shittier parts of working. When it’s the critters, I’m first in line.”
“It all needs to be done,” Sammy said, taking a fake swipe at Dal’s head.
“Uh-huh. And I got five brothers, three sisters, and three brothers-in-laws. There’s plenty of us.”
“So why wasn’t y’all doing nothin’?” Beau loved giving AJ’s brothers shit.
“Missy said she was good. Missy ain’t one to suffer in silence.”
“Shit, man, she’s all full of hormones. How is she gonna know what she needs?” Sam sounded like a man who had many, many female relations.
“Uh.” Dallas blushed, shrugged. “I’m the last bachelor standing, man. I don’t know shit about that.”
“Well, there you go.” It was hard to believe there was an unmarried Gardner.
Sammy chuckled. “Oh, shit. Somebody call the papers. There’s a spare Gardner boy.”
“No kidding. It’ll make the front page all the way to Texarkana.” The only thing that would make bigger news was a Taggart getting hitched.
Dallas flipped them off, then disappeared down the stairs. Sammy looked after him, then started laughing. “That one’s a rodeo man, through and through.”
“Some little gal will catch him, turn him into as much of a house husband as he can be.” Beau grinned back. “Them Gardner boys is the straightest men in rodeo.”
“Yep. Damn near straighter than Chrissie Taggart.”
Chapter Seven
Hank had broken down in Brownwood, and AJ’d got stuck in Pecos by a storm. By the time folks came to save Missy, they’d had Andy Baxter on ten bulls, Jason on another twenty, and they had to head to Missouri for an event.
An event where Beau was riding like a master, and he’d gone down in the first two rounds and was just hoping for a little go-round check for number three. Damn it.
Sam clenched his fingers, feeling all sorts of shit creak and groan, ache.
Not only that, he’d pulled Blast for the round, and he was o-for-five on that little fuckweasel.
Beau was there, though. Ready to pull rope, not talking at all. Beau knew he hated to be jabbered at. Okay, Sammy, get ready to get your ass slammed so that you can wave to the nice fans and go kick something in the back. Being in a slump sucked rocks.
“Stick your ass in the middle,” Beau shouted, just as he nodded his head.
He ducked his chin and gritted his teeth, head down as he held on. He was sliding into the well, damn near from the start, and he fought to correct, throwing himself to the left.
