Page 15 of Baker (Bastian Brothers #1)

Ollie sighed. “I’m just giving you a hard time.” Dodge blinked a few times before falling into the same bumbling morass that Ford was still floundering around in. “Mostly.”

“We’re sorry,” Dodge finally said.

“For what?” Ollie asked, the bright sun making me squint. Sure wish I had my hat.

“Everything that ever happened to the indigenous peoples of this country,” Dodge replied to which Ford nodded so hard I feared he might tip forward. Or backward. Or just plain pass out from his brain sloshing around in his head.

“Oh, well, thanks,” Ollie replied as he gave the parking lot a long once-over. “I thought maybe you had parked illegally or something.”

“In the feed mill parking lot?” I asked and got a quick wink from the sheriff.

“You showing your brothers the sights?” Ollie enquired nonchalantly.

That was life in Bastian Grange. People had meetups anywhere they met.

Parking lots, sidewalks, or in the middle of the road.

Rural folk loved to shoot the shit. There wasn’t really much else to do to be honest other than spend time bullshitting.

Ollie gave Dodge a look that I knew well.

I’d seen it more than once in our long friendship.

He thought my half-brother was tasty. I’d never been big into gingers, and Dodge’s blood was the same as mine.

Okay, well, not exactly the same. Fifty percent the same, but even so, I’d have to be more than a little soused to give him the look that our sheriff was flashing at him.

Dodge, to his credit, seemed to be picking up the vibe but was unsure of how to handle the obvious appreciation of his finer qualities.

Spoken as his half-brother, I could say Dodge did have great teeth.

“Yeah, the tour bus is leaving the feed mill after we get some goat chow, and then we’re heading to the bank.

Maybe we’ll visit the hardware store for some fencing staples.

You know, the real highbrow spots of our illustrious town,” I said and got a soft snort from Ollie.

“Where’s your uniform? Is it casual Thursday?

” I waved at his jeans and denim jacket outfit.

“I have the morning off to take my dad to the doctor. Where’s your hat?”

My brothers— half -brothers—smiled awkwardly. Both still looked a touch green around the gills for their social faux paus.

“Lost it checking fence,” I lied, which Ollie picked up instantly. He was too good at reading people not to know I was hiding something. The man was stupidly perceptive, which was why he was such a good lawman.

“You run into a row of hot mufflers out there on the back forty as well?” He jerked his chin at my neck, which brought my silent siblings’ attention to the marks left by a passionate photographer.

I would have to make sure Hanley only sucked on places that no one could see while having casual conversation.

“Bees.” That one was a doozy of a lie, and Ollie was already giving me a dark arched brow.

“Thought you said you ran into a redbud clump after your horse saw a coyote?” Dodge tossed out to be a dick. Ford bobbed his head. Ollie smirked.

“There were bees in the redbud clump. We better get inside and get our order placed. Tell Hank I said hello.”

“Yep, will do. See you around town,” Ollie said to Dodge and looked at the other two men standing there. I rolled my eyes as I shunted my feed hauling help into the whitewashed brick office. Penny Long, the pleasant and plump wife of Bill Long, the mill manager, was working the desk.

“Morning, Baker, you showing your brothers around?” she asked while bringing up my account on her desktop.

Dodge stood by the glass door, his attention on something—Ollie Ahoka probably—while Ford went to his knee to call over Daisy, a red merle Hanging Tree Cowdog that liked to visit the mill when she wasn’t herding cattle.

She was now sidelined due to how pregnant she was.

Rumor was Daisy had gotten knocked up by some passing gigolo and not by a purebred Hanging Tree stud, much to her owner’s chagrin.

Amazing how fast a dog can dig a hole under a fence…

the dog shuffled over to Ford, and the two of them shared all kinds of scratches and kisses. It was obvious that Ford liked dogs.

“Sure am, Penny. We need a few dozen bags of goat feed.” I leaned on the counter to smile around the door at Bill as he sipped his coffee in the back office.

He raised a hand. I nodded hello, then brought my sight back to Penny and my feed bill that was printing out. “Can you put that on my account?”

“I have it,” Dodge said, yanking his attention from outside to step up bold as a bull to slap cash on the counter. “We’re partners now,” he reminded me softly as he pocketed the invoice.

I wanted to say something snide but bit it back. Much as it ate at me to say it, Dodge was right. We were partners now. With a shrug, I said goodbye and went back outside.

“That was a nice dog,” Ford said as we piled in and pulled to the loading dock where Penny and Bill’s son John would toss the bags of feed into the back of the truck.

He was already back in the massive storage area gathering our order, the sound of the small handheld walkie-talkie on his hip carrying out on the soft dusty wind.

“She’s going to whelp in a few weeks,” I mentioned offhandedly, although it was quite obvious the dog was due soon, as we waited for John to arrive on the skid steer with a pallet of goat grain.

Goats. How the hell had I let them talk me into goats?

Guess some of the other shit going on at home wasn’t any odder than goats.

Cabins being made into posh little getaway spots, and a dress shop in the springhouse.

I shuddered to think what else this band of big city dreamers would come up with next. “Pretty costly, though.”

Ford sighed. Out of all of us, he and Bella had the least ready cash.

I’d wanted to ask why they’d left New York on a bus with only the clothes on their backs, but neither of them seemed inclined to talk about their pasts much.

Unlike the other two who jabbered nonstop about Chicago and Sacramento and the people they knew back there.

Bella and Ford were closed-mouthed, and that made me a little suspect.

I’d run the idea of having background checks done on them with Granny the other night.

She nearly tore me in two. Still, I could talk to Ollie. On the sly, of course.

“I wonder if Dahn would like a puppy?” Dodge asked no one in particular.

The roar of the skid steer starting filled the loading dock.

“I got nothing against dogs, but they got to earn their keep. So if you bring in some poofy poodle dog…” I left it hanging as John rounded a corner with a pallet of yellow bags with goats on the front.

Dodge nodded in understanding. We climbed up to help John load our order into the back, then set out for town, where Dodge did some banking while Ford and I bought fencing supplies and three cold cans of pop for the ride home.

A text reminder buzzed in as we waited for Dodge to exit the Bastian Grange Savings & Loan.

Dodge was beaming when he climbed into the truck ten minutes later.

“So, all of my money is now in this bank, and I can write checks to workmen.” He waved his little booklet of starter checks in the air.

“Also, I had a text from Dahn, and he’s going to come visit over the Easter holiday.

Chris is okay with it because he was signed up to do a cruise with other college alumni, which he failed to mention.

” The fine lines around his mouth tightened.

“But, whatever. So Dahn will be flying out in a week. I’ll let him bunk with me. ”

I nodded. Whatever. What was one more person when the house was already packed to the rim?

Granny would be in seventh heaven when she heard that news.

I made a mental note to lock up her ammo and gun before Dahn arrived.

We pulled away from the curb and headed home, Dodge chatting excitedly about the day they found out that the tiny baby they’d been trying to adopt from South Korea had finally arrived.

The love and joy when he spoke of his son radiated out of him.

For a second, I was a bit envious, but I shoved that down to replace it with happiness for my brother.

Half-brother. And it gave me a little hope.

Dodge was proof that even if your father was a rotten bastard who skipped out on all his responsibilities, it did not mean you would be the same kind of shithead.

Dodge was the opposite of Cash, and that was a really good thing.

The chit-chat on the long ride home bounced around just like we did in the cab.

The dirt roads were rough after a hard winter and the spring thaws.

Also, the old truck needed new shocks and struts, but they cost money we didn’t have.

Still didn’t, to be honest. All the cash pouring into the ranch was from Linc and Dodge.

Ford and I were just the grunts, but hey, if being the strong backs saved my home and legacy, then I’d tote feed and dig ditches for eternity.

We pulled into the drive to find that our one and only large animal vet, Aiden Hennessee, was waiting for us inside his big white pickup.

I’d been lucky to catch him before he left on his rounds of local farms this morning.

I’d wanted him here when the goats arrived to give them a good look over.

Cattle I knew. Goats? Not a fucking clue.

Which was why Aiden was here in his standard overalls and waterproof boots.

Aiden was a tall drink of water with dark hair and even darker brown eyes. He reminded me of Colin Farrell a good deal with those broody good looks.