Page 26 of Rodeo Cowboy
I wipe my mouth with a napkin and toss it on the plate before I rise. My ma didn’t raise a man without manners.
“What are you guys going here?”
Bronx cups his mouth. “We’re here to rebuild the rodeo camp.” His words echo like a loudspeaker.
“News to me.” My glare lands on my brother as I walk around the table to greet them.
It’s never just a quick handshake. Each cowboy pulls me into a lengthy hug.
“I invited them for the week,” Silver slaps my back. “Since you’re here for the week, it’s an excellent opportunity for your input, my input, and shit, why not their input.”
“We’re pitching tents in the backyard.” Daisy hitches her thumb toward the back doors. “So don’t you worry about us imposing. We know how to cook a meal over an open fire.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” My ma gathers napkins and fills them with random breakfast foods. “I’ll be in charge of meals.” She hands the food-filled napkins off to waiting hands.
“I’d love to help with food, too,” Lena chimes in. “Experiencing a rodeo camp in the making would be a great research opportunity.”
This would be the moment her sister would comment that she doesn’t need anymore research. Fuck, I miss Elsie.
“I brought my camper,” Bronx says.
“You would, Princess,” Daisy retorts. The two have always had a vicious relationship.
Silver slaps his hands together. “We got some serious planning and chores and jobs to assign.” He starts listing off work.
“I’ll ride through the trails and note what needs to be fixed,” Daisy says.
“I’ll ride through the trails too.” Willow surprises me. The girl who’s shown no interest in riding for a year just chimes in.
“Daisy and Willow are on trails.”
“I’ll do trails,” Bronx adds. “Help the girls with everything they need.”
“We don’t need help.” Daisy winks at Willow. “Right?”
“Right.” Willow's chest puffs out.
“Especially not from an egotistical cowboy like you.” Daisy flips off Bronx’s hat, and he grumbles in reply.
“We planned to leave today,” I whisper to her.
“Where? To a charcoal house?”
“I want to help with (something).” Bode sticks a bookmark between the pages of his book and sets it on the table.
“You got it, buddy.” Sammy rustles his hair.
“Thanks, Uncle Sammy.” These kids are playing the part too well.
“Alright, bode and Wyatt on (whatever).” Silver jots their names down on a board. “Wyatt’s also in charge of all the lumber we need from his family’s lumber yard. It goes on the (name Ranch).”
“But—” My one word is overridden by a buzz of boos and disapproving sounds.
“(Another name)?” Silver tosses out.
“No.”
“I have a list.”
