Lady was on my mind. I needed to make a compelling argument for her coming to the ranch to heal and then stay. Lying in bed as a tangerine rose pink—the same colors as one of Bella’s summer dresses—slowly crept over the sky, I couldn’t say why I was so driven to take in Lady. My mom used to say I got easily fixated on things, to the point I drove her a little loopy. She never said it in a mean way, just a tired, loving way because I could be persistent. Why? I didn’t know. My brain was different from most other people’s. That I did know. There had been tests in school, different diagnoses, and lots of recommendations for meds that had made my heart race so badly I thought I was having a cardiac arrest at the age of twelve. Afterward, westopped all the meds, and life was just different for me. Not bad. Just different.
But I could tell this dog, who had been through so much, needed me. And I needed her. There was something special about Lady. When I thought of her, I felt the same as I did when I thought of Aiden, minus the stiff dick obviously. Both of them were important. I just didn’t know why yet but being around them was crucial to my well-being.
Kicking off the bedding, I crept into the bathroom to wash my face, comb my shaggy hair, and pull on some clean clothes. Then I snuck downstairs to make coffee and open three tubes of those popping can cinnamon buns. I was laying them out on a cookie sheet when Granny appeared in the doorway, dressed and ready to go plink some cans.
“Well, look at you,” she said with a smile that eased my nerves a little. “This is really nice. Is it someone’s birthday? I thought I had them all wrote down in my little calendar on the fridge, but if I missed one…”
“No, no birthdays.” She pattered over in purple woolen socks that matched her hair. Every two months or so, she and Bella dyed her silver hair a different rainbow color. To show the uptight asses in Bastian Grange she was an ally without having to say a word. I really did love Granny. “I have something special I wanted to talk to the family about.”
“Ah, well, making sweet buns for the men will certainly gain you a few brownie points. I’m off to fire off a few. Stick your fingers in your ears.”
I did just that after making sure the dough rounds were the required two inches apart. No sooner had I jammed my fingers into my ears did I hear the shotgun blast. I startled, even knowing it was coming, and squeezed my eyes tightly closed. A flashback of that night appeared unbidden, the bright muzzle flash, the squeal of Bella as we ran even faster down a dark—
“Hey, you sleeping standing up like a horse?”
Baker’s gruff voice broke into the memory. I spun, eyes wide, to find him waiting for a reply of some sort.
“No, just making sure the buns are right on the sheets.”
Another blast fired off, followed by cussing and the back door coming open with a sharp slap of wood to siding. I winced internally.
“I swear those cans are being wind-fiddled,” Granny grumbled, stalking past in her damp rubber boots, a thick coat, and her shotgun in her hand.
“They’re not wind-fiddled. Your sight is that bad. If you’d stop rescheduling your cataract surgery, you’d be able to see better,” Baker fired back.
“I need to recuperate in the winter,” she muttered as she entered the mudroom.
“You said you needed to recuperate in the fall, which is why you backed out in July,” Baker argued then followed her into the mudroom todiscussher eye surgery yet again. Leaving them to it, as Baker knew her best and I didn’t want to upset anyone, I heard doors closing overhead. Linc and Bella were up. It was hard to sleep too late, what with the morning shooting gallery followed by two stubborn Bastians battling in the mudroom.
I watched the clock on the wall until the oven chime pinged. As I removed the first pan of sweet, sticky buns, Linc and Bella entered the kitchen. Bella wore a pretty fall outfit of plum pants and a thin gray sweater, her blond hair pulled back and her makeup light. Linc was dressed for work. Jeans, flannel, and an adoring gaze for Bella in front of him.
“I made breakfast,” I announced as everyone gathered at the table, Baker and Granny looking vexed with each other. Hanley arrived as we all sat down, still in his pajamas, his hair a rumpled mess. Baker ran a hand over his boyfriend’s shoulder as he satdown beside him. Hanley moaned softly as he reached for the pot of coffee resting on a red rooster trivet next to the buns.
“This getting up with the chickens stuff takes some getting used to,” Hanley said around a yawn while filling his mug.
“If you’d turn off those old Marty Stouffer shows before two a.m., you’d be able to roll out at a decent time,” Baker said while plucking a roll from the cookie sheet. Linc had four on his plate already. I’d put another pan in, knowing that feeding our burly bear of a brother would take many cinnamon rolls.
“I’m addicted. I need a Marty intervention,” Hanley countered with a sassy but sleepy wink for his man. Granny began talking about an old nature show she used to watch as a kid, something from Disney none of us had ever heard of. Bella said something about watching PBS as a kid and the Kratt Brothers while cutting her roll into tiny bits. Linc was inhaling his buns just like Baker, so I stood up and tapped the table with my knife. They all fell silent before looking up at me, Linc with a whole bun in his mouth that made him look like a chipmunk.
“I wish to address the family with an important matter to discuss,” I announced and got a funny look from my brothers.
“You don’t got to call the family to order, Ford. This ain’t the monthly Bastian Grange town council meeting,” Baker scoffed.
I gave him a firm look as I rapped the table again. “Comments from the peanuts gallery will be heard after the important matter,” I responded curtly.
“Peanut,” Bella softly corrected, her bright green gaze on me. “The saying is peanut gallery, not peanuts.” My eyes rolled so hard it was a wonder they weren’t sprained. “Just saying, sweetie.”
“Peanutsis Charlie Brown, right?” Linc asked around another mouthful of buns. I may need to pop another can if he kept going.
“Yeah, well, I think it’s all the gang,” Baker chimed in. “Interesting thing. The name was inspired by the peanut gallery on the oldHowdy Doodyshow.”
“I used to watch that!” Granny hooted, leaning over the table to top off her coffee. “That puppet was a real card, let me tell you. Used to be scared of Clarabell the Clown. Something creepy about clowns, ain’t there? Like the one that lives in the sewers in some town in Maine. Seems they’d clean their drains a little better in Maine if that’s what’s lurking around in—”
“Excuse me, this is an important meeting!” I barked, all eyes flaring wide at my volume. I felt my face grow hot. “Sorry, but this is really important, and I made buns.”
“Floor is yours,” Baker said, sitting back in his chair, arms folded over his chest, his lips tweaked up at the corners.
“Thank you.” I took a deep breath. “I want to bring Lady home.”
