Page 20 of Baker (Bastian Brothers #1)

Chapter Ten

S leep was hard to come by.

I was once again back on the sofa after generously giving my bed to Hanley since there was no way he was going back to sleep in a tent with a warm front filled with line after line of storms blowing through.

Fortunately, no other twisters dropped in our vicinity but the radio, once it came back on, was busy as was the police scanner.

Ollie was probably running around like a chicken, minus its head.

I should check in to see if he needed any help, but I had a ton of shit to do around here today, so maybe I could help out any neighbors who needed it tomorrow.

Come dawn I was up, dressed in yesterday’s clothes, and nursing not only a cup of coffee but a miserably painful arm.

OTC meds had not done much to dull the pain, which pretty much assured me there was a hairline fracture.

Something that I did not need right now as we had cattle coming tomorrow, which meant that fencing needed to be done today.

That was on top of the damage control that we’d need to do as well as the search for any missing horses.

It was shaping up to be one damn long day.

Granny slipped into the kitchen, bleary-eyed, her wild-colored hair on end. She’d been up late as well. We all had. Falling asleep after nearly being sucked into Oz was damn tough.

“You should get that arm looked at,” she said as she made her way to the coffeepot, her slippers flapping softly in the early morning quiet. I frowned at her insight before trying to let my arm fall only to bring it back up in a hurry.

“No point. They won’t do nothing for it.”

“Oh bullshit they won’t,” she snapped before turning her full attention to me. “They’ll at least splint or cast it. Maybe give you some meds for the pain.”

“I got a sling in the upstairs bathroom. I’ll use that.

” The look she gave me could have melted cement.

“Granny, I do not have the time or the money to go to the ER right now.” With that admission, her stern look softened.

I didn’t have health insurance. Granny had her Medicaid, thank God, but I’d had to drop ACA when the premiums jumped on my fortieth birthday.

I had no off-the-farm job to provide insurance, so I was sailing on spit and a whistle, hoping for good luck and no major health issues.

So far so good. “I’ll be fine. I’ll take it easy, wrap it tight, and keep ice on it.

Not much more a doctor could do, and it’ll save us a few thousand bucks. ”

“Maybe you could ask Dodge or—”

“No. I am not asking them for a damn thing. They’re already sinking far too much cash into this land for my comfort. What happens when they get tired of playing Roy Rogers and decide to go back to the city?”

“Baker, they ain’t going nowhere,” she stated assuredly, but I saw the slight doubt in her eyes. Eyes that would need surgery soon, and Lord only knows what will and won’t be covered by the government for that. Nope. I was not running to the next county for a little crack in my bone.

“Shame that limb didn’t hit my head. My skull is hard as hickory.”

The joke fell flatter than a flapjack. “You let me wrap that good and tight.” Granny gave in finally. “And don’t be a bullhead about letting some of the others pick up some work. When it was just you and me, you had to do most all the heavy lifting, but we have family now. You have brothers—”

“ Half -brothers,” I corrected, and once more, the sadness in her gaze shifted to irritation.

“You know, the longer you cling to keeping yourself segregated from accepting them as kin, the longer and harder your life will be. I thought meetings told you that isolating yourself is bad.”

“That’s for the road to staying sober,” I slipped in as a floorboard over us creaked. Granny frowned up at me. I blew out a breath that made waves in my coffee cup. “Fine. I’ll let the others do more. That make you happy?”

“Honey, what would make me the happiest would be to know that when I go to my maker, you won’t be rattling around in this old farmhouse alone.” With that, she turned, pulled the sash of her robe tighter around her waist, and snagged her cup of coffee and her gun on the way out the back door.

My eyes closed for a moment as I drew in a breath.

Nothing like starting the day off by disappointing your only living relative.

The snap of the spring on the screen door was the first notice that morning shooting practice was about to commence.

Taking my coffee with me, I slogged upstairs to use the bathroom, only to find Hanley exiting my room. He looked pretty rough.

“Morning,” I said as one door, then another, and then another cracked open. Bella stepped into the hall, yawning mightily, then leveling a look at me with my arm tight to my ribs.

“I’ll drive you to the doctor if I can use the truck,” she offered, and I instantly began to shut that shit down. Linc stepped up behind Bella, his usually placid bubba bear demeanor slipping into a growly grizzly look as Bella and I started bickering.

“Hey, let the lady take you to the fucking doctor, big brother ,” Linc grumbled, placing one giant hand on Bella’s slim shoulder. “She’s only trying to be nice. No need to raise a voice.”

“I didn’t raise my voice at anyone.” They all cocked eyebrows in unison. Oh cute, they were coordinated in their snark. Super. “Okay, look, it’s just a deep bruise. We have too much work to do today for me to lark off to Monroe Falls to see a—”

“I’ll drive you,” Hanley interjected. I bristled.

“This way, the others can be here for whatever needs to be done. I need to do some shopping anyway, canned goods and some bottled water. Also, my publisher is pestering me hard for my most recent shots. I’ll do that in town where the internet is better. A win/win, right?”

As I looked around, I saw that there was no way I was leaving this damn hallway without agreeing to seeing a fucking doctor.

I wanted to say that I was too poor for this, but my pride wouldn’t let me, so I snarled but nodded and stalked into the bathroom.

I slammed the door in their faces just because I could, and it felt good to do so.

I heard them whispering on the other side as I rummaged around under the sink for the old sling I’d had when I was a teenager and fell off the hay wagon and broke my wrist. It was a little dingy, but it would work.

Now I just had to shower with my left hand. Fun times. Damn pushy people.

Things went a lot smoother around here when it was just me in charge.

***

Dodge reached for me. I shot him a look. He backed off, hands in the air.

“I can get into a damn truck,” I growled, giving my half-sibling a dark glower before hoisting my ass up into the farm truck.

The sound of my old Jonsered chainsaw cutting through the fallen oak tree filled the morning air.

The other guys had leaped right into working on the oak that lay on its side beside the house with gusto.

Somehow Linc was aces at using chainsaws—some sort of metrosexual lumberjack shit, I guess, but I didn’t ask after he showed me he knew his shit—and so he was cutting the tree into rounds that would then have to be split.

That was another day’s work. Hell, cutting the tree into chunks small enough to handle and then heft up onto the splitter would be a couple weeks’ worth of work, but our wood shed would be filling back up, so that was a boon.

Sure would miss that tree, though. It held a lot of great memories.

Hanley climbed in behind the steering wheel as I maneuvered my sling up and out of the way so I could buckle my seat belt. I glanced up to find his pretty green eyes on me.

“If you ask me if I need help, I will bite your dick the next time it’s in my mouth,” I warned him in a low grumble meant for his ears only and got a gruff chuckle.

“You are not a good patient,” he said while I struggled. Finally, the buckle snapped into place. I shot him a triumphant look. “Nicely done.”

“Make sure he goes into the ER,” Dodge said after closing the passenger side door. “Granny says he’ll sneak off if you just drop him off.”

Jesus H. Christ riding a buffalo. I did that once when I was sixteen and had been drinking a little bit before trying to ride my dirt bike.

I crashed out by the line cabin facing the mountains, rode home with a dislocated shoulder, and then skipped out of going into the ER when Ollie, who had also been drinking more than a little, dropped me off at the door to find a place to park.

Neither of us wanted to be tagged with underage drinking, so I staggered off to the green.

Ollie had tried to find a place to park, but couldn’t, and then forgot why he was cruising the hospital parking lot, so he went home to the rez.

I woke up, took a walk, and ran into old Doc Milkman, the large animal vet who used to work in this area.

He rotated my arm back into place outside the Main Street Market.

Then he gave me a lift home and checked on a cow about to calve.

Paid him ten bucks for the house call and went on with my life.

Ollie never did recall taking me to town that day.

So yeah, the sheriff wasn’t always such a stickler for law and order.

He did stupid shit as a teenager just like the rest of us, only difference was I kept on drinking, and he stopped.

“Ah, a sneaker. Got it. Back in an hour or two.” Hanley placed his hand on the shifter.

“You know how to drive a stick?” I asked just to be a dick.

“I do, yeah, so sit back and just be your sunny self.” Dodge laughed. If my right arm wasn’t resting in a sling, I would have slapped his dumb face. We eased away from the farm, Hanley handling the manual with practiced ease.