Page 57 of The Wounded Warrior

“What? He gotAmerican Ninja Warriorand the warped fucking wall in his head?”

“Oh, dude. Don’t tell him that or he’ll be in the back pasture building us a training compound.”

Luke pondered that. “It would keep him busy for a while. Momma’d like that, I bet.”

“I can hear you, boys.” Preacher came up behind them, scaring the bejesus out of him. “Looks like I’m underdressed.”

“We were doing laundry.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Matty’s mouth.

“Uh-huh. Are y’all gonna ask for money?”

“No, sir. We might ask for some advice.” Preacher knew everyone. He could tell them who to go to for what.

“Oh, I got shitloads of that. Come on, boys. Momma! The twins are here!”

Matt grabbed his handles and started manhandling him up the ramp of ab-muscly doom.

Momma came to the door, squinting into the bright sun. “Lord have mercy, old man, I told you that ramp was too steep.”

“So, is our stoop,” Preacher shot back. “It’s temporary, any road.”

“That’s right. The crutches aren’t, I don’t think, but the chair is.” Sometime in the last few weeks, Luke had decided he was getting out of this fucking chair.

No one wanted to go to a therapy ranch where a guy didn’t try his hardest. So he’d started working it.

He was actually strong enough these days to make it out to the barn with the crutches while Matt brought the chair. He preferred using the chair with the horses, just because he’d hate to fall and startle them. Some of those guys were twitchy as all get out.

He couldn’t blame them. Some of the rescues…well, they had scars as bad as his.

“The crutches are better than you’d thought at the beginning, son. You’ll be rid of them too, at some point.” Momma was the eternal optimist.

“I sure hope so.” He let the smile come, because they loved him and they expected him to get up and fight, which was what he was doing. It was all good. “That’s a pretty dress.”

“Thank you! I bought it in town. I was being fancy for your daddy.” She rolled her eyes. “What did that get me but a pinched bottom?”

“What did you expect, woman?” Preacher scowled. “The boys were coming. Now, if you leave it on until tonight…”

“Ack. Not listening,” Matty muttered. Like there wasn’t four of them.

Momma looked pleased as punch, though, so Luke couldn’t fuss.

“We thought we’d have your daddy cook burgers on the grill, unless you boys want me to make something else.”

“That sounds great, Momma.” Matty bent to kiss her cheek once they were in the kitchen.

“Hey, baby. I love you.”

Luke grinned. Matty was the one who never left, wasn’t he? The one that fixed the roof and was there when Preacher had his stroke. The steady son who never let anyone down.

The rest of them, not so much.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Luke teased. He knew his momma would fight a lion with her bare hands for him.

“Yep. My sweet little chopped liver boy.” She laughed and bent to hug him, the baby powder and rose scent of her familiar as breathing. “You look healthy. I approve.”

“Thanks. The work with the horses has been good for me.”

“It has.” She took his hat off to hang it upside down in the hat hanger by the back door.

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