Page 143 of Cowboy Daddies

“Good, now there are chores to be done. You boys get to them.”

“Yes, sir,” we’d chorused in unison and though we could smile and joke about it now, our respect for our father had only grown over the years as we strove to emulate his example.

And our mother? We’d adored that woman from the moment that single cell in her womb had divided into two and would until the day we died.

The memory improved my mood until I took a sip of the coffee and almost spit it right back out. “How old is this?”

Luther shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s what was left in the pot.”

“From this morning?”

“Well, technically from yesterday morning. I just threw the pot in the microwave. Be grateful I didn’t drink it all myself.” He took a large sip and closed his eyes as if savoring it before swallowing. “Ahh, nectar of the gods.” He opened his eyes and added, “I’ll meet you in the barn.”

I shook my head and while he headed out the kitchen door, I walked back through the house. Pushing through the screen, I set the mug and gloves down on a bench outside the front door. When we’d finally gotten to the house, I’d taken one look at the mud and god only knew what else caking my boots and after pulling them off, I’d just let them drop to the porch to deal with later. Seems later had come a hell of a lot sooner than I’d planned.

It appeared Luther had called it as well. Our wandering cow gave birth to not one but two calves.

“Congratulations,” I said from where we sat in the middle of the stall Luther had placed her in. “You’re the proud Papa of a little heifer and a steer.”

Looking as exhausted as I was, Luther chuckled. “Don’t quit your day job. You’d never make it as a comedian, but you’re right. The only Little I want to be the Papa of is the one I have who walks on two feet and isn’t covered in shit.”

I barked out a laugh as I wearily climbed to my feet and reached down to offer him a hand up. “Not my kink either, brother.”

Once we’d finally stumbled back up to the house, we’d headed to our bedrooms, and after showering, I fell into bed despite the fact the rooster had crowed hours earlier.

The smell of bacon and the aroma of coffee—brewed recently, thank god—woke me.

This time when I saw my brother, I was actually happy to see him, almost as much as seeing the mug he slid across the table to me. We ate as if we hadn’t had a meal in days, and come to think of it, we hadn’t. Oh, we’d chewed a whole lot of jerky and the occasional sandwich when we managed to slap peanut butter between slices of bread over the last two days. Moving the cattle was always a chore but doing so during rainstorms and when we were short a hand, was a totally different matter. Swallowing the last of my coffee, I dug into my pocket and pulled out a quarter. It was time to get back to work, but we’d flip to see who got to choose what chore they wanted to do first. Or more importantly, who got saddled with going into town for supplies.

“Call it,” I said, my thumbnail already tucked beneath the coin’s edge.

“Heads.” We both watched as the quarter flew into the air, flipped a few times and then landed in the middle of the table. Luther leaned forward and grinned. “Winner, winner, chicken dinner.”

I grunted and left the traitorous portrait of George right where he’d landed. Since we’d started flipping when we were about five, the winner not only got choice, they also got the quarter. Luther slid it toward himself and tucked it into his pocket. “Now that I’m thinking about it, don’t forget to pick up some more wire. We made that list before the fence was busted.”

“I’m well aware,” I groused as I carried my plate to the sink. “Anything else you want from town?”

“I think we’re good. Frank should have the supplies on hand.” Luther stood and placed his plate in the sink as well. “You change your mind about going tonight?”

And either spend all night trying to dodge Susanne or the daggers she shot at me? I’d rather mend a mile of fences… in the middle of a monsoon.

“No. I’m guessing you are?”

“Yep, picking Kate up at seven. Which reminds me, you might want to grab something for your supper since the only hot thing I’ll be handling tonight will be my girl.”

Lucky bastard, I thought, but what I said was, “I’m a grown-ass man, I can feed myself.”

I heard him chuckling as I grabbed my Stetson off its hook and once again stepped outside. Looking out over the yard, I noticed the blue sky was cloud free, the sun was shining brightly, the grass was much greener and flowers that hadn’t been visible yesterday were blooming. Even I had to admit that while storms were stressful as hell on cattle and cowboys, they served to dress up the earth like a beautiful woman.

“Corny much?” I muttered with a grin which instantly disappeared when I said, “Shit,” as my hand touched a boot. Nope, I hadn’t cleaned them yet, and, yep, this time I literally meant shit. Birthing calves was not for the fastidious-minded. Sighing, I spent the next half hour cleaning not only my boots but Luther’s. After all, he’d made breakfast and a fresh pot of coffee. Besides, he was my twin. God forbid he embarrassed either of us or Kate by showing up at a hoedown with shit-encrusted boots. As I set them inside the screen door, I smiled as I could swear I heard my dad chuckling from whatever destination he and Mom were currently exploring.

Fifteen minutes later, I flicked on my left-turn signal though this road rarely saw traffic other than mine or Luther’s trucks. Or that dark blue van with the electric-blue arrow, though, granted, that one hadn’t turned down our road for who knew how long.

That who would be you. You know exactly how long it’s been. It was the day they delivered your latest⁠—

“You mean last,” I corrected, cutting that memory off as I sure didn’t need to be reminded how that delivery had led to discovering…

A sharp, high-pitched squeal had me snapping my head in the opposite direction to stare at a cloud. Not one that was white or even in the sky. This one was brown and swirling around something round and…