Page 34 of The Prodigal Brother Returns

“Not going to happen.” Nathan glared at him. Attempting to get up had been too much. Lines of pain bracketed his mouth.

Settling their difference of opinion with a wrestling match, like they used to when they were kids, was not possible. Blake didn’t want to physically hurt Nathan, but man, flipping his brother over his shoulder once or twice would make him feel a whole heck of a lot better.

Jonas took his empty beer bottle to the kitchen, then came back and squatted beside Nathan’s chair. “As your attorney, I recommend you give Blake’s suggestions some consideration. The last thing we want to do is lose this place.”

Nathan didn’t say anything, just continued to stare hard at Blake.

Frustration boiling over, Blake could not hold on to his calm any longer. “What else are you going to do? Sit in that bed”—he pointed in the cubicle’s general direction—“and drive yourself crazy because you can’t get around like you could before your accident? At least if you’re helping to plan a camping excursion or whatever activity you deem appropriate, you can boss the rest of us around and tell us what to do. You would like that,” he finished on a more cajoling note.

Nathan was silent long enough that Blake was almost positive he hadn’t won his stubborn-as-a-mule brother over.

Finally, Nathan took a deep breath. “I’ll think about it.” He locked his jaw. “Will one of you yahoos help me to bed?”

Nathan didn’t resist when Blake brought over the wheelchair. With a brother on each side, they eased him into the chair and then into bed.

One look at Nathan’s face, and Blake called Malorie. When she picked up, he said, “Nathan needs pain medicine.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He passed her just inside the door. As they shared a smile, Blake suddenly knew who he wanted to be on his team to bring the Triple L back to its former glory. In the meantime, he would spend a few hours making notes on the nextTimmybook. If he was lucky, he would come up with a plot and title, and maybe some new friends forTimmy.

Chapter Ten

“What’s your planfor today?” Malorie asked Andee and Reece. They’d gotten up early, were already dressed in their “work” clothes and the boots she’d picked up two days previously on their outing with Blake and were wolfing down their pancakes like they were late for their first day of school.

“It’s a secret,” Reece said, his mouth full of breakfast. He swallowed so hard, she was afraid he would choke, but he ended up with no serious injury.

Malorie hid a smile. “I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.”

“Just this once, Mom,” Andee said as she put her plate in the sink. “B.J. says we can tell you when we’re all done.”

Reece followed his sister to the sink. “Andee. Don’t tell!”

“I’m not!” his sister said, just as sharply.

“Okay, you guys, stop fighting.” Malorie grabbed her stethoscope and moved the twins toward the door. “Maybe I should have a talk with Blake about encouraging kids to keep secrets from their mothers.”

Andee stopped abruptly, forcing Reece to step around her or trip over his feet. “Mo-o-m! No.”

“Off with you now,” Malorie said with a smirk. It was good to keep the twins on their toes. At eleven, they could occasionally be a handful. At fourteen or fifteen, she was going to have to be the one on her toes. If she wasn’t, she’d be in deep trouble. They were good kids, but teenagers—She remembered what mischief she’d gotten into at that age. Taking a deep breath, she tossed over her shoulder as she turned toward the main house, “I’ll see you for lunch.”

When she heard their frantic whispers, she chuckled. Score one for Mom.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t on Blake’s side. She’d thought his ideas for the ranch were good, since it was obvious the Triple L had suffered a decline in the last years and could use a push in a healthier direction.

Yesterday, she’d heard Nathan (against) and Jonas (for) arguing over riding lessons versus organized trail rides versus making a bicycle trail around the property. Andee would like that one. Since she’d been here, of the three brothers, it did seem like Blake had demonstrated skills that would come in handy in the ranch’s revitalization. The only question was... could any of the activities proposed by Blake solve the brothers’ financial problems?

When she got to the ranch house, Nathan was sitting on the side of his hospital bed attempting a get-out-of-jail-free maneuver as he reached for crutches that were too far away, having been left at the end of the bed, probably by one of his brothers.

Before he fell on his face, she rushed over. “What are you doing?”

“Jonas had to go to town to look at commercial space, and Blake is... I don’t know what he’s doing. I want to get up,” he grumbled at the end.

Malorie tried to keep her tone level, but all she could think was,come on, dude. “You couldn’t wait until I got here?”

“You sound a lot like my mother when Blake and I got in trouble as kids.” With a grimace, he eased back onto the bed.

“I’m not surprised. All I’m saying is, at the moment, it’s not safe to get out of bed without someone standing by. At least for another week or two.” Malorie was glad to see he’d lost some of his grumpiness. She checked his vitals before adding, “We’ll practice walking with the crutches today. The doctor recommends you not put any weight on your pelvis for about six weeks, depending on how well you’re healing.” She glanced at his cell on the bedside table. “That means, if I’m not here and no one else is around, text me when you want to get out of bed.”

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