Chapter Twelve
Landon let the summer sun beat on him while he banged on the truck, trying to figure why it didn’t work no more. He’d checked everything he knew, now he was working on the shit he didn’t know.
He muttered a little, wishing Sister’s hoodoo worked on mechanical shit.
“Whatchoo doin’?” Junior Paltrey wandered up, a slew of hounds following him.
“Fixin’ my truck. You?”
“Fixin’ to go huntin’. You want a hand? I know trucks.”
“Surely do.” Landon’d take whatever help he could get. He couldn’t get much work without his truck.
“Well, let me see, then.” Junior stuck his head under the hood, chomping away on a piece of gum. Good teeth on Junior, despite not having a dentist in his life.
They started banging at things, pulling out the water pump and the alternator before Sister came out with pralines and tea. That set the dogs to howling all around, and she had to go get them treats.
They sat together on the front bumper, gnawing and cussing new-fangled vehicles. Laurel pulled up an old lawn chair andlaughed at them, tossing her hair and pushing up her sunglasses. They made her look like a model.
He tossed a chunk of dirt at her. “Shit, Sister, can’t you hoodoo this thing?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t work on cars.”
“Apparently Nutbutter don’t neither,” Junior drawled and they all cracked up, hooting like owls. The dogs barked along with them. Made them all laugh even harder.
“I don’t suppose you have a spare water pump laying around?” Junior asked. Junior was funny.
“No, sir. Can you run me up to town for one?” Landon asked.
“Sure thing, Nutbutter. Come on.”
He nodded and stood, stretched. “I’ll be right back, Sister.”
“I’ll be right here.” She winked at him. She’d been a rock the last weeks, praying for him and holding him when he was stupid and the dreams beat at him. He’d cling to her and lay there, dry-eyed and aching.
Adam came to him in his dreams too often, and even Laurel’s hoodoo couldn’t get rid of the man. Landon didn’t know what the hell to do.
He’d even gone to Sam, who’d told him to have patience and believe, if Adam was really his dream lover, but… Adam didn’t think Landon was good enough to stand with. Landon didn’t doubt that the man wanted him, that the man loved him, but…
He’d seen Adam defend his bloodhound against his kin.
Landon knew he wasn’t much, wasn’t worth the value of one of the horses or the bulls, the high-earning cowboys, but he was worth the same as a good hunting dog, wasn’t he?
God, he hoped so.
He shook off his thoughts when he saw Junior staring, waiting patiently for him. Of course, that was also when he saw the old red truck bumping across the swamp road toward the house.
Mr. Beau.
Huh.
“Jus’ a second, Junior. I got to make sure all’s well with this.” Mr. Beau didn’t hardly never come his way ‘less there was a problem.
Beau pulled up and stepped out of the truck, going to kiss Laurel’s cheek before shaking his hand. “Bonjour, Landon.”
“Bonjour, M’sir. All’s well with Mr. Sam and things?”
“Right as rain.” Beau nodded at Junior, gave scritches to all the dogs. “I need a hand, though.”
