Page 23 of Fix Me Up, Cowboy
My gaze falls on the old puppet theatre in the corner.
“What are you doing here?” my grandfather’s booming voice said behind me. I was seated on the floor with my friends, watching the puppet show.
I turned around and looked up at him. “Watching the show. Grandma said it would be okay.”
“Your grandmother doesn’t run the ranch, I do. You were supposed to go there after school to do your daily chores.” I didn’t live at the ranch. I lived with my brothers and parents closer to town. But they had all agreed that it would be good for my brothers and me to help out around the ranch—and earn some money.
“You have no right being here.” His voice was huffy like the big bad wolf before blowing down the three little pigs’ homes. “Only kids who can read belong in the library.”
I had no answer for that, so I mumbled bye to my friends and stood. He was right. I couldn’t read. I tried, but the words kept getting jumbled on the page.
With his hand on my shoulder, we walked toward the door, my head forward so no one could see the shame from his cutting words.
“Thomas. Adam. Davison,” Miss Wilson said. Her tone was soft, but her words were a bullet shot from a gun. “How dare you treat the boy that way!”
My grandfather turned to face her, and I braced for a bloody showdown.
“He can’t read very well, so he’s better off on my ranch learning the skills he’ll need for when he’s working there full-time.”
I’d never been asked if I wanted to make the ranch my career. My grandfather just assumed it. My father, a thriller author, had a different opinion, but he was careful about the battles he chose to fight.
Apparently, Miss Wilson wasn’t of the same mind. “He’s better off in the library where I can help him learn to read.” She looked down at me. “If you’re interested, that is.”
My eyes widened and I swore hope sat up and took notice.
“Well, he’s not.” My grandfather guided me out of the library without another word to me or Miss Wilson.
I feel a tug on my hand.
“I wanna hear this book.” Deacon waves it at me, then leads me toward the colorful reading mat in the corner.
But we don’t get that far. I’m stopped by the sight of a damp-looking Kate on a chair there. Logan McKenzie is lying on his stomach in front of her, his casted leg behind him. She’s looking over his shoulder as he reads the book while at the same time petting an equally damp Charlie.
The six-year-old looks over at Charlie and continues talking as if he’s reading the book to the dog. I step closer. None of them pay attention to me.
He pauses for a moment, sounding out a word. He doesn’t get it quite right, and Kate gently corrects him. Logan repeats the word, and she smiles at him. It’s a warm and encouraging smile that instantly brightens the room.
Deacon tugs on my hand again, but I’m too mesmerized by Kate to move.
“Come on, Uncle Noah.” Deacon gives my hand a harder tug.
At hearing my name, Kate looks up and frowns. Then she returns her attention to Logan.
Deacon leads me to where he wants to sit, hands me the book, and plunks himself onto a large turtle cushion.
I drop down next to him and start reading the story. I ask him questions with each page like Charlotte did with me. He bounces on his butt as he excitedly replies.
“Did you break your leg?” Logan asks Kate loudly.
“Why do you ask?” Her voice is hushed but not enough to keep me from hearing her reply.
“I saw you limping. Will I limp after they take off my cast?”
“I was in a very bad car accident, and my leg required lots of surgeries to help it heal. That’s why I limp.”
“It didn’t heal?”
“It did, but not fully. It had…complications. But your situation is different, so I’m sure you’ll be fine.” She smiles that warm, reassuring smile again, and nods toward the library doors. “It looks like your mom is ready to leave now. You want to say bye to Charlie first?”
