Beau would bet that Coke was, too, the way his back gave him shit. “Well, y’all go on home. We might call to have you help us figure how to transport Sam, but you don’t need to be here to brainstorm.”
“You’re not flying home?” Coke seemed more than a little confused. “Wouldn’t that be fastest for him?”
“The pressure isn’t good for his head. They replaced the piece of his skull, but there’s still swelling.” Beau laughed when Sam tried to hit him. “He’s still got a swollen head.”
“That’s nasty, Sammy!” Coke cackled, shook his head. “You gonna have some amazing damn scar?”
Sam looked over to Beau, eyebrow arching.
“FrankenSammy.”
Sam hooted, and Beau sat back, feeling like it might just be all right.
“Gon’ scare forks.”
Coke shrugged. “Dillon freaks out all sorts of flatware.”
Dillon whapped Coke, but Sammy just blinked, then laughed again.
“I freak out people, too.” Dillon shook his ass, which made Coke’s eyes cross.
Sam shook his head, then grabbed Dillon’s fingers, squeezed them, then looked at Coke. “I. No fault. No your fault.”
Dillon’s face crumpled a little, and Coke got that stony-faced expression of a cowboy who was fixin’ to bawl. “I shoulda...… if there was just some way.”
“Sam is right,” Beau said, quiet but firm. “This ain’t your fault, cher, and we’re grateful that you’re our friends.”
“Come home to Dillon, then us and know the dogs. Gumbo and blankets.” Jesus, Sammy was wearing out but good.
Still, he was making more and more sense as the days went by. Coke got it, which was a minor miracle. Or maybe not, as many times as the man had dealt with Coop and Nate after getting their bells rung.
“Will do, Bell.” Coke grinned at Sam and Dillon’s joined hands, fond as anything.
“You ready to go, babe?”
Coke nodded. “I am. You let me know if you need us, ‘kay? We’re headed home.”
“Bye, cher.” Beau got up and moved around the bed to hug Coke tight. “Thanks for everything.”
“Anything.” Coke meant it, too. Beau knew.
Beau got a hard hug from Dillon, too, which surprised him. “You take care of him. Call.” Dillon winked. “Not tomorrow.”
“Or possibly even the next day.” Beau hooted. “You got it.”
Sam nodded, eyelids drooping, and Dillon went to kind of hug on Sam, too, gentle-like. “Be good, Sammy. Get well.”
“Dill. Bring care to Nate. Good.” Then Sammy was out, sleeping hard like a little kid.
“Poor guy.” Dillon put a hand on Coke’s arm. “Come on, babe. Let’s let them both rest and go get our dogs.”
Coke nodded, obviously torn, wanting to go, but not wanting to leave him there alone.
“Balta is coming by today.” Beau couldn’t remember if it was true, but Coke needed to hear it. Balta had said he’d come see Sam soon. The man needed to see Sam whole again.
“Yeah? Good. Good. Bye y’all.” Dillon led Coke out, firm as all get out.
Beau glanced at Sam, who was still sound asleep. Then he went back to his chair, getting the pillows and all arranged. Time for him to have a nap, too.
