Page 6 of Baker (Bastian Brothers #1)

“Not so much since I hit thirty. I had a few nights in various cells for non-violent civil disobedience. Power to the people.” He placed a dirty hiking boot on the bottom step.

I liked the way the soft white of the bare bulb warmed his face.

Fine lines were starting to branch out from the corners of his evergreen eyes.

Obviously he smiled a lot. “Nowadays I get my message out about conversing wildlife via means that do not require me to piss in a dirty crapper while a dozen other guys watch.”

“Understandable. So you’re here to ask permission to meander my land to take pictures?”

“That I am.” He shifted forward slightly to rest a forearm on his knee, which made the large pack and tightly-wound tent on his back shimmy to the side slightly.

The man must be strong to tote around that much on his back daily.

“If you’re okay with me being here for a few weeks to a month, depending on how agreeable the wildlife is, I’ll forward your information to my publisher and they’ll email you about the property release. ”

“You planning to camp out there?” He nodded, a lock of dirty blond hair falling over one slim eyebrow.

“It gets damn cold here at night yet. We just had snow recently. ?Course, that being said, it could shoot up to eighty tomorrow. Granny says the only dependable way to prognosticate the weather in Oklahoma is to wake up and look out the window.”

A soft laugh rolled out of him. “I’m prepared for either, but thanks for the warning. I’ve been doing this since I graduated college, and there’s not much in the way of ugly weather I’ve not run into, but I will take Granny’s advice and peek out the tent flap every morning.”

“Okay then go forth and photograph. You got a gun?” I asked and got a short nod.

“Good. We got all kinds of wildlife here that would be happy to have you for lunch. Since it’s chilly yet, you might not need to worry too much about the cottonmouths, western rattlers, or copperheads, but the cougars are a constant threat and the bears are just coming out of hibernation.

Oh, and if you run into a bison, do as the park rangers say and avoid petting the fluffy cows. ”

“Right, they’re mostly on government pastures, right?”

“Yep, that’s right. And while they do have a designated space, if they choose to go walkabout, they go. Most are content to stay on their range, but there have been a few that wanted to see more of the world.”

“Duly noted. Thanks for that info. I had most of it on my phone, but it’s always nice to get the real deal from the locals. So, if it’s okay with you since it’s now dark, I’ll just bunk in your barn.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine.” I wasn’t about to send him out into a cold, dark night to try to set up a camp. “Just no fire, obviously.”

“Obviously. Thanks. Oh, your email? For my publisher?”

“Oh right, yeah.” He passed me his phone, a beat-to-hell Android, opened to notes.

I gave him my email, my cell, and the ranch landline since cell service ran from decent to spotty to hell nah out here, depending on which way your horse went.

“If you can’t reach me on my phone, call the house.

Granny is always here and loves to take messages.

Fair warning, though. If you ring and she picks up, be ready for at least a half-hour catch-up call. ”

He chuckled warmly while slipping his phone into his back pocket. “I’ll make sure I have a cup of coffee close at hand.”

“Good. Just so you know, she is not the person to ring if you’ve just been nailed by a rattler.”

He gave me a smile that lit up his eyes. Then he offered me his hand. I slapped mine into his. His grip was strong, but he had pretty soft skin. We held hands for just a microsecond longer than was customary. A masculine laugh from inside slipped into the intimate moment.

“I’ll let you get back to your family. Sorry to interrupt such a sad day.” He pulled his fingers from mine.

“Told you it wasn’t all that sad, but thanks for the kindness.”

His expression was curious, but he merely nodded and then turned on his heel, headed to the stable.

I watched him go, long legs carrying him with ease to the horse barn before he melted into the darkening night and was gone.

The rattle of the overhead door on the stable opening and closing reached me.

I drew in a long breath, turned, and with shoulders set, made my way back to the kitchen. All eyes rose to me as I walked in.

“I was just telling your brothers they didn’t need to go back into town for beds. We have three bedrooms and two bathrooms upstairs. There’s plenty of room,” Granny was saying as she placed a carrot cake on the table.

“Oh.” I gave them all a fast glance. “Well, sure, that’s fine.

” It really wasn’t but tossing them out would piss off my grandmother.

Sweet as she was, you did not want to be the bee that got in her bonnet.

“Maybe we can get some more coffee ready and have a sit down. I’d like to talk to you all, and there’s no better time than the present. ”

Granny was not happy. She knew my plans. Of course she did. I had sold off what remained of our beefers to gather a decent amount of cash to wave under their noses.

“Coffee and carrot cake sounds lovely,” Bella said as she rose.

“I’ll just get that going. I brew a good pot, ask Ford.

” My half-brother nodded. Granny sat down with a sigh.

She and I had gone round and round about my plans.

Bella hurried over to the pot, giving us her slim back as she filled the old Black & Decker drip machine.

I dropped down into the seat Bella had vacated, leaned my arms on the table, and tapped the raised edge of the cake plate.

It was one of Granny’s best, a green glass plate that had belonged to a great-aunt.

Usually only brought out for the big holidays, church bake sales, and the Bastian Acres County Fair baking contest each August. She was doing her best to make a good impression, even though I had begged her not to as these boys were not staying.

“Okay, so as I suspected, Dad left us all equal shares,” I began as I ran a finger over the scalloped edge of the cake plate.

“Since none of you are farmers, what I have arranged is to offer you each ten thousand dollars to buy your share of the ranch from you.” I looked up to see that my half -brothers were all gawking at each other before looking back at me.

“I know it’s not much, and if you all want more, then…

well, once I get things back on track, I could send you more.

It might take a while for me to get that kind of cash again, but if I sold off a few more acres to—”

A cellphone rang. We all glanced at Dodge. “Sorry, I…I have to take this. Give me five.” He pushed to his feet then disappeared into the mudroom, pulling the door mostly closed behind him. The others at the table were staring at me in varying degrees of upset, confusion, and worry.

Granny began cutting into the cake as Dodge’s voice slid through the cracked door. “Chris, no, I just…can’t you just handle it this time? You knew I’d be in Oklahoma for the funeral. Why the hell did you schedule a signing when you knew he had twirling practice?”

I shot my grandmother a look. She pursed her lips as she placed a fat slice of dark orange cake on a small dish for Ford. He nodded silently in thanks.

“No, I can’t just come home tonight. Chris, Jesus, just take Dahn to his practice.

No, it’s not stupid. He enjoys it. Look, can we not get into how you feel he should be doing something a bit more masculine?

For fuck’s sake, how can you be queer enough to suck dick but not willing to have your son twirl a baton?

No, I do not want to hear it. No one will care, Chris.

Honestly, your days in the limelight are over.

Just take Dahn to his lesson and stop being such a fucking twit. ”

Silence fell. We all focused on the cake to hide the fact that we had been eavesdropping on a highly personal call. Guess I had a nephew. Who knew? Not me.

“Sorry,” Dodge said when he flopped back into his seat. Granny handed him a slice of cake with thick homemade cream cheese frosting. “My ex used to play football. He’s got a signing tonight and our son has an extra-curricular to attend.”

“What team did he used to play on?” Linc asked as he forked a huge bite into his mouth.

“San Francisco. He’s Chris Martins.” Linc’s eyes flared. “Yeah, that Chris Martins.”

“I’d read he came out about ten years ago, after he retired.”

“Yeah, more like twelve. We got married when I was just out of college, May-December kind of relationship, and adopted our son Dahn within a year of exchanging vows.”

“Oh how amazing! I have a great-grandson!” Granny nearly dropped the wedge of cake she was putting on my plate. “How old is he?”

“He’ll be ten in November.” Dodge beamed when he spoke of his son. I was happy to see that. Fathers should be proud of their sons.

“Wow, so you were married to Chris Martins of the San Francisco Golden Rams.” Linc sat back in his chair, cake gone, and dusted some crumbs from his beard. “That man went through offensive lines like a tank. ?Course that was what? Twenty years ago?”

I knew the name and was equally impressed. Dodge nodded solemnly before taking the slice of cake that had been directed at me that Granny now wanted to give to the man who had made her a great-grandma.

“Yeah, twenty years ago. So, Baker, about your offer…” Dodge steered us back on course.

“Right, so, I have ten grand for each of you in the bank. I can write you all checks now, and tomorrow you can be on planes to return to your kids or whatever it is you all have going.”

Bella returned to the table with the coffeepot, pouring it as if this was some high tea at Buckingham Palace instead of four strangers pulled together to place a cheating shit-stain of a man in the ground. Granny frowned and gave the next slice to Bella, now sitting in my usual seat.

“Well, about that,” Linc ventured to break the distressingly long silence my last announcement had brought. “While your offer is generous, we all know that this land is worth way more than ten grand.”

“Obviously, but that was all I could get from selling the beefers,” I explained once more.

“Right, and we all get that. Now I can’t speak for the others, but I’m here to stay.”

I blinked at the hairy bear of a man. Granny gave Linc more cake.

“Stay? But you own a bar in Chicago,” I stammered as the others sat with forks in hand, watching the two of us intently.

“Did. I did own a bar. When I heard that Dad had died, I did some soul searching, realized I hated that bar and sold it to an old friend. I want to be a rancher.”

If someone had told me that Santa Claus had just been elected governor of this fine state and was planning on making flying reindeer the state mammal, I would not have been more shocked.

“But…you tend bar.” I stammered and got a funny little smirk from my big, bearded brother. Half- brother.

“Yeah, and I did it well. But I need to get out of the city. My stress levels are astronomical, and my doctors said I needed a change of life or I’d never see forty.

” Dodge nodded his red head strongly and the queasy feeling Linc was stirring up in my gut doubled.

“Also, the closer I get to the big four oh, the more tired I get of pulling beers and breaking up drunken frat boy fights. So, I have my half of the money from the sale. I can invest it in the ranch. Buy back some cows. Maybe spruce up those cabins we saw on the way to the family cemetery and rent them out to city people who want a western vacation.”

My jaw dropped. Literally. I sat there, mouth agape, as the others dove into this moronic discussion as if it were the best thing since sliced bread as Granny would say.

“Those would be adorable little places for people to stay in,” Bella concurred, then gave Ford a not-so-gentle nudge in the side.

“Totally. Bella and I also kind of wanted to stay here for a while. She wants to open a dress shop in Bastian Grange, and I could work on the ranch. We have some money to add to the pot to fix things up and buy more cows.”

Granny’s eyes were as round as her cake plate by now.

“Since we’re all laying our cards on the table,” Dodge said, running a hand through his neatly combed cinnamon hair. “I’m looking to put down roots somewhere my son can grow up with fresh air and an appreciation of where his milk comes from.”

Granny was so close to exploding out of her seat only her bad hip kept her bottom in her chair. She was fairly vibrating with joy. Everyone at the table was now staring at me with bated breath.

“Beef cattle,” I corrected as Granny sat there with the final slab of cake on a plate pointed in my direction.

“We don’t have dairy cows. We raised beef cattle.

You don’t milk a beefer for God’s sake. Also, none of you know the first thing about ranching or how fucking hard it is on a man’s soul.

This isn’t some Hollywood dude ranch rom-com.

This is real life. My life.” I slapped my chest with my palm.

“While you three were off playing in the big city, I was here working my fucking hands to the bone to keep this ranch and the legacy behind it alive. And now you show up because the asshole who donated his DNA and nothing else to us croaked and told you that you could be ranchers? That you could sashay in here with no experience and just take over because this work is so simple a dentist, a bartender, and a…” I flung a look at Ford, who mumbled something about a fry guy at a fast food place.

“Of course. A dentist, a bartender, and a fry guy walk into a bar.” I snorted in derision as I waved at Ford.

“This really is a joke. My God. So Frank French Fry here thinks he can just drop his apron and become a farmer. Jesus H. Christ. Like, all you had to do was buy a cowboy hat and learn a few lyrics to a Garth Brooks song. No, fuck that. Take your money and shove it up your entitled, urban asses. I’ve done this all by myself for forty years. I’ll keep doing it myself!”

Granny yanked the slice of cake back with a glower that meant my ass was the grass and she was the lawnmower. She would have to catch me first, though.

I left them all gawking at me as I pounded out the back door with no coat, no keys, and a head of steam that might possibly peter out when I hit the Oklahoma/Kansas border.