“It’s my kid you’re driving around, so there’s no ‘letting me’ about it. I’m fixing it, and I’m paying. End of story. You can drive my truck while I take your vehicle in.”
Her eyes spark with annoyance. “You’re the only person who could make doing someone a favor into a dictator’s command.”
“It’s called being your boss, sweetheart. Get used to it.”
Leaning her hip against the kitchen counter, she gives me a skeptical look. “Have you ever even had a boss yourself?”
“Come to think of it, no.” I smirk at her, just because I know it will annoy her, and I like the way her cheeks get flushed when she’s annoyed. “But it turns out I’m a natural at being one.”
Jonah comes downstairs then. I ruffle his hair as he passes. “Morning, buddy.” I kiss the top of his bedhead.
“Morning.” A huge yawn. “Can I please have pancakes?”
“It’s an oatmeal kind of day,” I tell him.
Sadie’s already going to the fridge and taking out the ingredients. “I got you, sweetie. Want some cinnamon in it?”
Jonah’s face brightens. “Ooh, yes.”
I put the keys to my Sierra on the counter. “There’s already a booster seat in the back. Don’t mess with my satellite radio presets.”
“Why, are they all tuned to your music?” she asks innocently.
Brat.
I don’t dignify it with a response.
Two hours later, I’ve got brand new tires on Sadie’s vehicle. Her car is old but she takes good care of it. The oil’s been changed, the inside is tidy, and she’s got a first aid kit and a spare towel and blanket in the back.
I have to assume she put that towel in there after I chewed her out for not having one.
I’m not proud of my methods, but I can’t deny they produce results.
I stop at Rosemont on the way back to pick up the teddy bear Jonah requested I get back for him. My brothers and I have all built our own places further out on the ranch, but Rosemont is the original: the home we were raised in, the house my great-great-grandfather built when Montana was still a territory.
Besides Rafe’s vintage Chevy, both of my brothers’ trucks are parked out front. It’s rare they’re in town at the same time. Slade’s on the road with his hockey team all the time and Tanner’s on the rodeo circuit.
And Josie’s only ever around for Thanksgiving or Christmas these days.
So it’s a semi-complete mini family reunion.
I walk into the house to find them all around the kitchen table, along with Dad. Rafe nods at me and I return the greeting. He’s always been a man of few words, and I appreciate that.
Can’t say the same for my youngest brother. The few words, or the appreciation for him. He could talk the horns off of a bull and it’s fucking annoying.
“Howdy,” Tanner says. “If it ain’t Mr. ‘World’s Sexiest Country Star.’ Did your hordes of shrieking fans let you through the gates? How did you survive all the panties launched your way?”
There was a New York Times article a couple of years agothat decided to run their profile of me with that headline and Tanner has never let me live it down.
“Fuck off, you old rodeo clown,” I grumble, but I return the back-slapping hug he gives me.
“Old? That’s rich, coming from the eldest brother. Is that another grey I see underneath that cowboy hat?”
Slade unfolds himself from where he’s sitting at the kitchen table. He’s one of the most decorated defensemen in the NHL, but now he’s starting to move like the decade-plus of playing pro hockey is catching up with him. There’s the separated shoulder. Nose that's been broken and reset at least twice that I know of. Three Stanley Cups, three different teams, three cities he left before they finished spraying the champagne. Never the same jersey twice on that ice in June.
Slade doesn't do long-term commitment. Not with teams, not with women. He’s always been a lone wolf.
When he gives me a half-hug, I notice the way he holds his right arm slightly away from his body as he pulls me in with his left.
