Page 13 of Cowboy Needed

“Where are we gonna eat?” Allie asked taking his hand and surprising the hell out of him.

“Maybe the diner? There’s one that’s been there in Glenwood for about thirty years.”

“Is that older than you?” Allie asked.

Ellis snorted. “No, honey. I’m a little bit older than that. Not much, but some. Anyway, I can remember that place being there for a long, long time.”

“Are you from here?” Michael followed.

“I’m a working cowboy, buddy. I’m from all over.” He got to the kitchen and rummaged through the cabinets until he found a water bottle that would work for to-go juice. Then he got in the fridge to see what there was to drink. He was probably overstepping his bounds, but he needed to get to the damn feed store.

“Daddy likes Sprite more than juice,” Allie piped up.

“Well, that’s easy. It can stay in this bottle.” He pulled outa twenty-ounce Sprite, trying not to pry too much about what the man kept for his kids to eat. None of his business.

But it seemed like a nice mix of healthy and snacks, with condiments and such.

Ichabod walked in, Zane slouching behind him face like a thundercloud.

Michael bounced, and Zane opened his mouth, Ichabod whipping around to stare at the teenager, who backed down even as his eyes narrowed.

“We all set?” Ellis asked, handing Ichabod the Sprite.

“Yep. Thanks.” Ichabod’s eyebrows went up, and Ellis got a warm smile. It was wild, because suddenly Ichabod went from a dad to a…stud.

“Can I ride with Mr. Ellis, Dad?”

“Depends on where we’re going.” Ichabod popped the Sprite without it exploding.

“Silt. I thought we’d stop in Glenwood for lunch.”

“How about you ride with him from lunch to the feed store?”

Ellis grinned. That was the shortest part of the trip.

“Oh, okay.” Michael sighed, glancing at his angry brother.

“I don’t mind if it’s okay with you, sir,” he told Ichabod.

“Okay, but no kicking the seat, no distracting Mr. Ellis, and no making the dog nuts. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

And they headed off.

He got it.

He wouldn’t want to be in the Suburban with Zane either.

Chapter Five

“Ihate it here.” Zane’s words made the windows rattle, it seemed like they were so loud. Ichabod stared him down.

Ichabod had heard this twenty times a day for the last three months. He’d heard this. The kids had heard this. The friggin’ neighbors had heard this. “Too fucking bad; this is where you are.”

“Don’t you cuss at me!” Zane’s expression went slack with shock.

“Oh, come on, kiddo. You want to be grown-up? You want to tell me what it is you hate? You bring it on.”