“Don’t laugh. I’m keeping your future alive,” I whisper to him.
Because all of this is his one day. I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse at this point.
Just what I need today. Chasing a herd of damn cows across open country while my brain tries to leak out of my ears.
Hunter turns, and his gaze lands on Gary, who's made himself comfortable on the pillow next to mine, chewing the corner of the comforter with serene indifference.
"Wyatt. Why is the goat in here?" Hunter closes his eyes briefly, the way a man does when he's asking God for patience. "Please. Not today, son. We're heading out with Lola—we can't leave him in the house to eat everything."
"Where are you going? Aren't you comin’ with us?" I ask, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. I already know the answer. Hunter owns Sterling Ranch, all one hundred and fifty thousand acres of it. He has the luxury of delegating the grunt work to his little brothers while he handles the bigger picture.
Whereas Colten and I split our time between ranch work and the other side of the family business. The side that doesn't appear on any tax return. Between the two, plus training for my next bull ride, I barely have time to sleep, let alone have a life.
"No. Lola has a doctor's appointment in an hour."
Every muscle in my body tenses. I sit up straighter.
"What's up with Lola-pop?"
Lola is the best thing that has ever happened to my brother. To our whole family, honestly. Before her, Hunter was a closed fist. She cracked him open. Gave him something to fight for that wasn't just duty. Gave Wyatt the mother's love he'd been missing. If anything happened to her?—
"She's fine," Hunter says, and there's something in his voice. Something he's trying to hold back. A softness he doesn't let many people see.
"Then why is she going to—" I stop. The pieces click into place. Lola's been tired lately. Turning green at the dinner table. Skipping coffee. And last week, when I made my chili, the recipe that could raise the dead, she barely made it to the bathroom in time.
My mouth drops open.
"I fuckin' told you she wasn't throwing up because of my cooking, you asshole!"
He chuckles, and there it is, that rare, unguarded grin that makes him look like the kid he used to be before the world got heavy.
"Language," Wyatt warns from beside me, perfectly serious.
I snap my mouth shut and look down at him. Then back at Hunter.
"Is she?" I ask.
He nods.
"Are you two talking about Lola having baby Gary?" Wyatt asks, innocent as a sunrise.
I blink. "Gary? Wait. You kept this a secret from me?" I fake gasp.
"For the last time," Hunter says, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "I am not naming our baby Gary."
Gary the goat bleats from the bed, as if personally offended.
I'm out of bed before I've made a conscious decision to move. I cross the room and wrap my arms around my brother and hold on. I might feel like death warmed over. I might smell like a distillery. I might be standing here in nothing but boxers and split knuckles and a hangover that could kill a horse. But this is the best news I could've heard today.
Another niece or nephew. Another life on this ranch. Another heartbeat in this family.
And one more little person to protect.
"Congrats, bro," I whisper, and my voice cracks, just a little, in a way I'll deny later.
He slaps my back, hard, and pulls away.
"If you ever hug me in no fuckin' clothes again, I will make you go out to work naked."
