There was a surprised cry, and Keira came running. “Jordan shook!”
“Towel. Go. Fu-phooey.” He tossed a towel in her direction. “I’ll bring another Coke and the mop.”
She pelted back out of the room, and he grabbed the mop. “Ham. Toaster oven. Directions are on the can.”
Seth ran to the front room. “Sh-oot. Jordan. Help clean up.”
“I’m sorry!”
“I know.” He dropped a kiss on the little girl’s head. “Should I beat you?”
“No…”
“Okay. Maybe next time.”
“Okay.” Jordan smiled, and he finally looked at Law, who looked both a little stunned and covered in Coke. But not mad.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I just need to go get a clean shirt.” Law shook his head. “It’s like being in the barracks at basic.”
“I’d offer you one of mine, but…” Law had to outweigh him by fifty pounds, if not more. “Do you have a suitcase in your… car?”
He didn’t even know what the man drove.
“I have one out in the truck. I’ll go get it here in a minute.” Law took the towel from Jordan and mopped himself up, then the couch, which had blankets on it for that reason.
“Fuzzy, stop licking the floor.” He sighed. “Baby girl, grab the mop. Hand me your keys. I’ll grab your bag. Are you staying here?”
Where else would he stay? He didn’t know the man, but he was family, for all he couldn’t be bothered to be at his own brother’s funeral.
“I can always stay in town if you need me to. I only got in today and don’t really have a place yet, so I was hoping, yeah.” Those blue eyes wouldn’t quite meet his. What the hell was going on?
“We have a casita. No worries.” He held his hand out for the keys. “I’ll bring in your bag.”
“Thanks, man. I been driving so long my leg is a little blown.” Law handed over the keys. What had Wiley said about being blown up?
“No problem.” He texted Bonner on the way out. “Casita made up?”
“Yep. Throwing out the kids?”
“Ha. Law is here.”
“Who?” The phone started to ring. “Who’s here?”
“Law? Pistol’s brother?” At least that’s who the guy said he was, and both Wiley and Dawn were more than old enough to remember him.
“Oh, holy shit. No kidding? Jesus, man. I’d kick him out on his ass.”
“Well, the older kids seem happy to see him.”
“He wasn’t here. You were.”
“And I will be when he leaves too.” No question. This was his family, his kids.
“Yeah. Sorry. No sense snapping at you.” Bonner was a good guy, but he did fly off the handle.
“No worries. You have Mouse’s hoof looked at today?” He unlocked the GMC and grabbed the duffel from the backseat.
“Yep. It’s cracked but sound most of the way up.”
“Good deal. Have George take Ed and move the cattle up to the north acreage for me tomorrow. You need anything from me, man?”
“Pizza,” Bonner teased. “Seriously, though, Tomas Hernandez went to the hospital today with chest pains. Could you stop by and see him tomorrow?”
“Shit.” Tomas had put him on his first steer. “I will. Tomorrow is the football game, so I’ll go before I pick up the kids.” He had a rhythm for home football games—pick up sandwiches for the band, drop them off, pick up the youngest four, pick up Wiley’s band uniform from the cleaners, drop that off, feed the kids, get to the stadium, and cheer on his boy in the band. Good thing he wasn’t tired.
He grinned, taking the bag back inside.
“He went to the bathroom,” Bethany said. “Do we have any aspirin? I think he’s hurting.”
“I’ll take him something. Can you run to the casita and make sure there’s a light on, the bed’s made?” Dammit. He didn’t want to feel sorry for the man.
“Sure.” She flipped her hair around and slipped out of the kitchen.
“How’s it going, Wiley?”
“All systems go.” He got a thumbs-up.
“Excellent. It smells amazing. I’ll be right back.” He dragged the bag to the powder room and knocked. “Got your bag. Need some Advil or something?”
“That would be great, yeah. Thanks, man.” Law opened the door, shirtless, one side of his torso a map of scars.
He nodded and handed the bag back, trying not to stare. He’d seen a lot of scars—not like that, but scars. “I’ll grab you some.”
“I appreciate it. Sorry to be so much trouble.”
“No worries. Sorry about the Coke-splosion.”
“I should have known better.” That got him a smile, Law shaking his head. “Wiley did it to me more than once.”
“He was already twelve when I really got to know him. Well past shaking Cokes.” He offered a quick smile and headed off to grab Advil.
When he came back, Law had on a clean shirt and was rinsing out the stained one.
He handed the bottle over. “Do you want me to toss it in the washer, man?”
“That would be great.” Law rolled his shoulders. “Your place is hella different than Pistol’s house.”
“Mine was bigger and on one floor. He couldn’t do stairs.” He took the shirt and went to the laundry room, because it hurt still, thinking about those last days.
Law was back in the front room when he came out, loving on Fuzzy.
Bethany was back with her book, Keira was playing Legos with Jordan. Good. Good. “Y’all can handle it if I check on Wiley?”
“We’re fine, Uncle Seth.”
He pulled the remote down from the top shelf of the bookcase and handed it over to Law. “Here you go. Help yourself.”
“Oh, thanks.” Law clicked it on and made the major mistake of asking the kids what they wanted to watch. Oh, poor, poor stupid man. He had a fight on his hands.
The kids would argue for hours. He grinned.
“You okay, Uncle Seth?” Wiley asked when he entered the kitchen.
“I am. You need help?”
“I thought we should have a salad. The girls will like that, huh?”
“Sure. You want me to shred cheese while you chop?”
“Please, yeah. We need a lot.” And Wiley was nervous with the grater.
“Sure. Let me—” One of the twins started screaming. “I’ll be right back.” He jogged out to the front room, where there was a knock-down, drag-out between demands of Peppa Pig, How to Make Slime on YouTube, and Katy Perry videos. “Enough! Let the poor man be. Jesus Christ, y’all.”
“Sorry,” the chorus came immediately.
“Do you guys like Jumanji?” Law asked. “I can watch that anytime.”
“Yes, sir!” they answered, again in a chorus.
“Good choice. I’ll be in the kitchen helping with supper.” Lord, he needed to check on Dawn too.
“Okay!” The words followed him, and he grinned again. The kids in that accommodating a mood had something up their sleeves. Poor Law.
He texted Dawn on the way back into the kitchen. “Where you at?”
“In my room. This is weird.”
“You ok?” He frowned, glancing at Wiley as he grabbed the grater. “Son, you do know that’s Pistol’s brother, right? You remember him?”
“Sure. That’s Law.” Wiley gave him a sad look. “I mean, he’s all beat-up. You think that’s, like, a family thing? Am I gonna die young?”
“Well, soldiers get hurt, but the VA is full of old soldiers. Cowboys get hurt, but how many old cowboys do you know? You’re going to be a famous musician. Lots of them get stupid and die young. Lots of them don’t.” That was fair, right?
“You didn’t.” Wiley looked more cheerful. “I mean, you’re only kinda old, but yeah. I’ll just have to be careful.” Wiley chopped lettuce and tomato, mushrooms and carrots, then layered them carefully. Mushrooms on bottom. Then tomatoes, then the cheese he handed over, then the carrots and lettuce. Jordan onl
y ate lettuce and carrots. Keira and Bethany ate down to the cheese and he and Dawn and Wiley ate it all.
“Okay. I’m going to check on your sister. You’re okay?” God, he was tired. Like genuinely.
“I’m okay. Thanks for grating the cheese.”
“Anytime, bud. It all smells great.” He checked on the little ones, who were watching the movie and being decent, and then he jogged on to his oldest girl’s room. He’d built on, and now there were two huge wings of the adobe—Wiley and the twins on one side, the older girls on the other—with his bedroom and the guest room connecting the long halls, giving him quick access, privacy, and a lovely courtyard.
He knocked gently, and she opened the door, rushing to hug him. “He looks so much like Pistol. But not. It’s weird.”
“Right? Pistol was like his mini-me. Law makes Wiley look little.” And Wiley was already a good six inches taller than Seth, for fuck’s sake.
“I know! And he looks like he’s your age. I mean, he used to be young, right? Now he’s all tired and scarred up.” She sniffled. “He looks sad too.”
His sensitive girls. Lord.
“War sucks. It makes a man old before his time. And I bet it’s hard, coming here, having Pistol gone.” Not that the man had come to the funeral or even sent a damn card.
“I guess.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt another long moment, and then she sighed. “I’ll go set the table.”
“Thanks, honey.”
“I’m glad you came to be our uncle, Seth. We needed you.”
“Oh, baby girl. I needed y’all too. I just didn’t know it.” He had been a lonely man looking for his comfort in booze and danger, and now he never had a second to think, much less be lonesome.
He grabbed the laundry basket from the big girls’ bathroom while he was out there, since he had to wash Law’s shirt, and filled it with stuff from each hamper. Then he headed back down, humming a little superhero theme music.
“Supper’s ready, Uncle Seth. It smells so good!” Bethany beamed at him. “Mac and cheese!”
“Yep. Not a hot dog in sight.” Ham, yes. Hot dog, no.
“I’ll tell him thank you. I said sorry about before. It was stupid.”
She was a good girl. “You did fine. Grab the milk?”
“Will do.”
Ooh. Not even a bit of arguing for Coke tonight. Go team!
Law came limping into the dining room, which was where they ate most nights. Too many kids meant informal breakfast bar or TV dinner eating was too damn messy, and he liked to see their faces. Talk to them.
“Okay y’all, please take hands. Who’s saying grace?”
Jordan held up her hand. “My turn!”
“Good deal.” Everyone held hands, and he bowed his head.
“Thank you, God, for the day, for Legos, for Law to come visit, and for macaronis, even though they aren’t hot dog. Also, let the Eagles win tomorrow at the game. Amen.”
“Amen.” Good Lord and butter.
“Amen,” everyone else followed, and he thought Law was grinning, maybe chuckling. It was a decent look for him.
Everyone let Law serve himself first, except for the salad. That Seth was in charge of to prevent forest fires caused by rage in the under thirteen set. “What all do you like in your salad, Law?”
“I’ll take anything but nuts.”
“Ew!” Jordan looked at him a little panicked. “No nuts, right?”
“Nope. Just the usual. Give me your bowl.”
“Yes, sir!” Jordan looked at Law. “I don’t like nuts.”
“I do!” Keira piped up. “I love them!”
Law smiled at both of them in turn. “I like some of them just fine, but I have to be careful. I’m allergic to some.”
“Oh!” Keira’s eyes went wide. “I’m allergic to shellfish. We don’t even have it in the house.”
“Just tell me what to keep away while you’re here, and I’ll make it happen.” Seth was the king of juggling allergies.
“Uncle Seth keeps us all safe,” Bethany said, handing over her plate.
“I bet he does,” Law said, eyes on him.
“It’s my job.” He served the little girls, then tossed the rest of the salad and served the teens before handing the bowl to Law.
“Thanks.” Law seemed a little lost, but he took salad, then handed the bowl back to Seth.
“Do you like ranch?” Jordan asked. “I like ranch.”
“I love ranch.”
“Me too.”
“We have ranch, French, Italian, thousand island, blue cheese, and green goddess,” Dawn rattled off. “Which one would you like?”
“I’ll take ranch if there’s enough for me and Jordan both.”
“That’s the huge bottle.” Wiley snorted and passed it over.
“That’s because you have to have ranch for your pizza and fries!” Keira said.
“And chicken nuggets!” added Bethany.
Keira gave Law a lofty look. “I like marinara on mine.”
“So did Pistol,” Law said. Then he looked at Seth like he was a little panicky. Seth simply nodded, though, as Keira’s eyes lit up.
“He did? For reals? I don’t remember that! Cool!”
“Yep. He ate it on just about everything. He liked fried cheese too.”
“That’s Dawn’s favorite. She makes it in the air fryer.” Keira bounced a little. “She makes it for us for snacks.”
“Does she? Man, those things can do lots of stuff.”
Suddenly, the kids were warming up. Seth guessed that was good, right?
He ate, listening with half an ear, pretty much dozing where he sat, making sure to keep his eyes open.
“Right, Uncle Seth?”
Damn it. “What?”
“We can get ice cream after the game, right?”
“Of course. We always get ice cream after, win or lose.”
“Uh, Uncle Seth?” Wiley actually sounded nervous.
“Yeah?”
“Can I bring Mandy? To ice cream? She’s the first chair flute. She asked her mom.”
Well, fuck-a-doodle-doo. Wiley wanted to have a date. Lord have mercy.
“I don’t see why not. Are you going to take her home after?”
“Yessir. Right home. Otherwise she can’t go.”
“Well, there you go.” He was floored, but no way was he gonna show it.
Wiley’s first date. Jesus Christ.
Lord, Pistol. You’d be proud of him. He’s holding it together, in the middle of hell. He’s a good kid, growing into a good man.
Seth blinked hard. “I didn’t get me any tea. Anyone else want anything?” He had to get up and go to the kitchen before he just lost it.
“An unshook Coke?” Law asked gently. “I’ll buy some more tomorrow.”
“You got it.”
He went to the kitchen and stood there a second, his entire body clenched with his rage at God. This didn’t have to happen. These kids didn’t have to lose everything, dammit. They didn’t need to lose their folks and their brother both.
For a second, Seth couldn’t breathe, it hurt so bad. Not just for the kids, of course not. Pistol had been on the road to greatness, a great friend, someone who always made him laugh, and one hell of a cowboy. But mainly he hurt for these babies.
They were his everything now, and he would protect them.
Even from what little family they had left.
2
Law was starting to think this, coming to Pistol’s place, was the biggest mistake he’d ever made. Well, save hopping the wrong transport to take his compassionate leave and go to Pistol’s funeral.
That had been the mother of all boo-boos.
The kids were wary, but Law thought they were warming up. Pistol’s ex, though, well…
Law should have called first.
“Here’s your Coke, man.” Rodgers was tiny—smaller than Pistol even—nut-brown with gray eyes and black-and-silver hair cut so short that really what he saw
was scalp. What he noticed most, though, was those cheekbones that were sharp as razors.
“Oh, thanks. Woolgathering.” He’d never been allowed to check out mentally when he was in the Army. He did it a lot these days. Maybe that was all the meds he was weaning off.
“No worries, man. Bethany checked the casita, and as soon as you need to, I’ll walk you over.”
“Thanks. I mean, I’m good.” Law looked down at dinner, wondering if Seth just wanted him to take it with him and go.
“Cool.” Seth sat and dug into the mac and cheese. “Damn, son, this is delicious.”
“Thanks, Uncle Seth. I really worked hard.” Wiley beamed at Seth, and Law had to admire how the guy was with the kids. So easy.
“You can tell. You really can. Good job.” Seth was free with praise, and for a guy who hadn’t had kids eighteen months ago, Law thought it was pretty impressive.
“I like it too, Wiley!” Keira beamed at her brother. “Like, for real.”
“Yeah? Cool. Cool. I know there’s been a lot of hot dogs.”
“Do you cook a lot?” Law asked. Surely there was enough money for a housekeeper.
“One day a week, just like Dawn and Bethany. Keira and Jordan help Uncle once a week, he takes us out once a week, we cookout once a week, and Uncle makes something crazy on Sunday.”
“Sweet-and-sour cauliflower!” Bethany said.
“Hungarian goulash,” Dawn said, making gag noises.
“Yumm corn tacos,” Jordan put in.
“I liked corn pancakes and candy bacons.” Keira bounced. “That was so nummy.”
“Thanks y’all. I’ll make sure to revisit the goulash.”
All five kids gagged and moaned.
Seth chuckled. “Seriously, it was bad. Almost as bad as the chickpea curry.”
Bethany stage-whispered, “We had to throw the whole pot away it burned so hard at the bottom.”
Dawn nodded. “The house smelled so bad.”
“We went out for Mexican food,” Wiley said.
“Wow. That sounds harsh.” He would never have pegged Seth as a cook.
“Yeah. It was a defining moment. No more homemade curry.” Seth rolled his eyes.
“I know how to make chicken tikka masala, though. We should try that,” Law offered.
“Yeah? I like that. I go into this restaurant over on the westside and get that.”
Cowboy's Law Page 2
