“Uh. I was in the…” He couldn’t remember what color the room was. He’d been so tired.
“The blue room, girl. You and Nattie take the master for now, then we’ll work out details tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Gramps.” Tracy smiled and grabbed a carrot stick out of the bowl Dillon had filled and left out. She abandoned them, and Dillon felt a little weird, finally being alone with Coke.
Coke gave him a sad glance. “Miz Gardner ain’t doing so good. The wee gal and Denny will come home tomorrow.”
“Well, the last part is good. How’s Missy?” Poor Coke. He looked so tired.
“Swelled up like a big ole frog.”
“Ouch.” Poor Missy. She had enough stress.
“Yeah. AJ says it’s day by day, there.”
“I bet.” He nodded toward the kitchen table. “Sit, babe. Mustard?”
“Please. You talked to Jason?” Coke sat carefully, shoulders tense.
“Not yet. Tag wants to pow-wow first. Jason’s not due for another three days, he says.”
“’Kay.” Coke stared at the burger, just stared at it.
“Babe?” Dillon slid into the chair next to Coke, setting down a glass of iced tea. “Try a bite, huh?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Just tired.” Coke dropped his voice. “‘bout ready to get back to work, though.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He reached over and pinched off a bit of the hamburger, holding it up so Coke could have the bite.
“Thank you.” Coke snapped it out of his fingers.
Dillon grinned. There. Better. He pulled off another part and offered it up.
Coke’s smile was warm, fond. His.
All his.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“God damn it, Pharris! What in the Sam hell are you doing on the motherfucking ladder?” Tag’s voice rang out, sharp as hell.
“Looking at the roof,” he called back.
“Because there aren’t ten million goddamn Brazilians and Gardners running around here that ain’t got broke necks and busted-up hands? Chrissy! Chrissy, get your ass out here and find me someone that ain’t our age to work like dogs!”
Chris Taggart walked into Coke’s view, peering up at him. “Coke is on the roof.”
“You are one observant asshole.” Tag could sure snarl. “Find. Me. Some. Brazilians. Not Balta.”
“God, no. His back is as bad as Coke’s.” Chrissy trotted off.
Coke didn’t know what they figured a Brazilian was gonna do. He was already up on the roof, wasn’t he?
He hammered down a couple three shingles, staring at the trucks parked all over Aje’s acreage.Lord have mercy.
The ladder leaning against the gutter shook violently, and Joa clambered up on the roof, grinning at him. “Tell me what to do,SenhorCoke.”
“Hey, kiddo. You ever been on a roof?”
