Doozer (Burning Saints MC Book 5)

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Doozer (Burning Saints MC Book 5) Page 15

by Jack Davenport


  “And just because I didn’t hear what you said, doesn’t mean I don’t know you said it, woman,” Duke called out, taking his seat at the breakfast table.

  I poured myself a second cup and joined Duke at the table.

  “You ever branded a foal before, Doozer?”

  “I’m not even sure what a foal is,” I replied.

  “That’s a baby horse, son.”

  “The only branding I’ve ever seen was…well, never mind,” I replied, flashing back to Clutch’s short-lived patch-out party.

  “Well, you’re gonna learn a few things today. I’ve got a half dozen foals that are ready to be weaned from their mothers and moved out to pasture. Before I can do that, I’ve gotta get ’em branded and I can’t do it by myself. Chako, my lead ranch hand has the day off but now that you’re here I figured you could help me.”

  “Whatever you need,” I replied, trying to hide the terror in my voice. Unlike Minus, who was as comfortable on a horse as he was a bike, I had zero experience with livestock and generally tended to stay away from anything with teeth larger than mine. Not to mention I was still pretty banged up from the bar fight.

  “That’s the spirit,” Duke said, grinning wide through his whiskers.

  Pearl arrived at the breakfast table with a stack of hot pancakes, homemade syrup and butter from their local farmers’ market that was almost better than sex. Conversation around the table was easy and the food was out of this world. It was one of the best breakfasts I’d ever had, but with each bite I found myself wishing Trouble was here with me.

  We cleared the table and helped clean up before heading out to the section of the pasture where the foals and their mothers were kept. Duke drove us in what looked like a post-apocalyptic cross between a golf cart and a flatbed truck. It sported flood lights, a winch, all terrain tires, and was murdered out in matte black.

  “I call her Maxine. As in Mad Maxine. She’s electric,” Duke said proudly as we climbed inside.

  “Looks like a fun ride,” I said, noting the vehicle’s roll cage.

  “I needed something sturdy to get around in, and I’m too damned old to ride my bike anymore so I had Chako build me this souped-up baby. I figured why not have a little fun while I’m doing my chores?”

  No sooner had the words passed through Duke’s moustache, when he pressed the pedal to the metal and we went screaming down the dirt trail leading to the pasture.

  “She’s got a lot of pickup,” I replied, and hung on for dear life.

  Duke roared with laughter as we tore down the trail at breakneck speeds, slowing down only as we approached the herd.

  “Don’t wanna scare our equine friends,” Duke said, rolling to a gentle stop near the pasture.

  The ranch was even more spectacular than I had imagined. Sprawling green hills dotted with groves of mature trees stretched on as far as the eye could see in every direction. The air was crisp, and the morning sun painted the sky with a vibrant orange hue.

  We climbed out of Maxine and Duke lead us to the pasture’s gate. About a dozen horses, stood together in a fenced in area, casually munching on grass, completely unphased by our presence.

  “Is this all of your herd?”

  Duke laughed. “No, these are just the mamas and their foals. The mature herd is in the north pasture and our personal horses are in the stables. I’ll take you up there later for an introduction.”

  “Sounds…good,” I said.

  “What’s the matter, son?” Duke asked, noticing my hesitation. “Y’aint afraid of horses are ya?”

  “To tell you the truth, I haven’t been around them much. At all, really.”

  “Don’t they have horses up there in Oregon?”

  “I grew up in the suburbs, so the only horses I saw were at the Rose Parade or the fair.”

  “Well, these here animals ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of, but they should always be treated with the respect and an understanding that they can kill you.”

  “Nothing to be afraid of. Check.” I said, giving Duke a thumb’s up.

  Duke chuckled. “What I mean is, these horses are broken and used to people, but there are rules to follow, and as long as you do, you and the horses will be safe.”

  “Okay,” I edged out.

  “Except for that one there,” he said, pointing to a large black and white horse. “That’s Bubba.”

  “Is he the king stud or something?” I asked.

  “Well, ya see, ya might not know it by lookin’ at ’em, but horses are very social animals. And some horses get sorta attached to other horses. Not necessarily a breeding pair, mind you. Just a bond between two animals that makes ’em easier to deal with as a pair rather than alone. Bubba and Penny over there have just such an arrangement. If Bubba is around, Penny is calm.”

  “Your horse has an emotional support horse?”

  “I guess you could say that,” Duke said with a chuckle.

  “Carson said this used to be a cattle ranch.”

  “That’s right. But the Double H has been in the horse racket since my daddy died and me and Pearl took over the place. I still keep a small head of cattle for milk, beef, and the occasional trade or sale. And as much as I’d hate to admit it, a little bit for old time’s sake. Like ol’ Hank Junior said, ‘It’s a family tradition,’” Duke sang out.

  “Why the change? Is there more money in horses than cattle?”

  “Shit no,” Duke laughed. “But I guess you could say that I didn’t have much interest in following in my daddy’s bootsteps.”

  “I get that,” I said.

  “I take it your daddy isn’t in an MC?”

  I chuckled. “Not exactly. He’s a lawyer. Or was a lawyer until last year when he retired.”

  “A lawyer?” Duke exclaimed.

  “My sisters, and my uncle too. Pretty much, everyone except me.”

  “I threw hell at Bird all night about being a lawyer within a family of lawyers, and you didn’t say nothin’ the whole time.”

  “You think I was gonna sign up to face that firing squad?”

  “Smart kid,” Duke replied with a tip to his trucker cap.

  “Plus, like I said. I’m not looking to follow my father’s path any more than you.”

  “How ’bout you help me get the branding gear out of the back of Maxine and you can fill me in on the path you are on.”

  Even though Duke was virtually a stranger to me, I found him easy to talk to, even about the personal stuff I didn’t talk to anybody about.

  “Can I ask you a question first?”

  “So long as you understand I have a fifty-fifty chance of being full of more horse shit than that pasture over there,” Duke said, motioning to the herd.

  “I don’t mean any disrespect, or to sound like I’m ungrateful for your hospitality, but you seem to care a lot about someone you just met. What’s up with that?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to people I don’t know asking me questions. You and Pearl seem really nice and Minus speaks highly of you, so I guess I’m just trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing here.”

  “I didn’t mean to pry, it’s just that when a Saint shows up on my door it’s for a reason. From what I understand you won’t be staying with us for long, so I suppose I’m trying to figure out why the hell you’re here as well.” Duke laughed heartily, throwing him into a coughing fit.

  “You okay?” I asked as Duke struggled to catch his breath.

  “I’ll be alright,” Duke said, regaining his composure. “I’ll tell you, son. This gettin’ old thing is for the birds,” he said, motioning to the back of Maxine. “Help me get the gear out, will ya.”

  Duke dropped Maxine’s tailgate, revealing a folding table with two chairs, and a black medical bag.

  “Is this all of it?” I asked, expecting to see an array of branding gear.

  “Everything we need is right in here,” he said, picking up the bag. “Grab the res
t, will ya?”

  “Where are the irons and the torch?”

  “I haven’t taken a brand to a horse in twenty years,” Duke replied.

  “But you said—”

  “I still call it branding, because “chipping” a horse sounds stupid coming outta my mouth.”

  Duke opened the bag to reveal syringes, hair clippers, a deck of playing cards, and several bottles.

  “One of them bottles is for the horses… and one’s for us,” Duke whispered like a little kid with a secret.

  “What is all this?” I asked.

  “Branding takes several hours, and four guys to do it. Plus, it don’t make the horses very happy.”

  “I can’t imagine it does,” I said.”

  “Instead, I chip my horses. Then, I use all the time I saved to play cards and day drink.” Duke held up the bag. “There’s six syringes in here. Each one has a microchip in it. All we gotta do is shave off a patch of hair on their necks, give em a quick scrub with what’s inside bottle number one, inject a chip into each one of ‘em, and then it’s onto those cards and what’s in bottle number two. Whatta ya say?”

  “Sounds a lot better than what I was expecting,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief that wrestling livestock to the ground wasn’t in my future.

  “Let’s get set up over there by the fence line,” Duke said, and guided us to the spot that would become our “branding station.”

  Duke shoved his fingers in his mouth and let out a loud whistle and within seconds, I saw Bubba trot up over the hill with a whinny. Penny wasn’t far behind, and her baby was following as close as it could.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “He knows my call,” Duke explained as the horse slowed to a walk and lumbered toward him. Duke handed him a carrot and stroked his nose, crooning softly to him.

  Before long, a wild herd of beasts came running, kicking up dust behind them, and I couldn’t stop myself from stepping back as they surrounded Duke.

  “You can’t show fear,” Duke said, grabbing my shoulder to keep me next to him.

  I notice Bubba pin his ears back and move to bite another black and white horse getting a little too close for comfort.

  “Bubba, you leave Goliath alone,” Duke ordered, as Bubba made a cricket sound in the back of his throat.

  “Is he protecting his kid?” I asked.

  “Oh, Bubba’s not the sire. And that there’s a filly. Girl foal.” Duke pointed to Penny’s baby, now suckling at her mama’s teats. “Bubba’s a gelding, so we bred Penny with Dumbass.”

  “You named a horse Dumbass?”

  “Considerin’ he’s a dumbass, I sure did. But that horse is fast and pretty, so is Penny, so we’re hopin’ their foal’ll do somethin’ great.” He grinned. “She’s one of the ones we’re gonna chip.”

  I looked at the tiny horse and nodded. “She doesn’t look so tough.”

  Duke laughed, grabbing a rope, and throwing it over one of the bigger horse’s necks. “Hand me those clippers.”

  He showed me how to do the process on three horses, before handing me the ‘lead’ and nodding to Penny’s filly. “Your turn.”

  I approached the horse as Penny watched me warily, throwing the rope over the filly’s neck and securing it the way Duke had done. Well, I tried to. The horse let out a squeal turning quickly and kicking her hind feet out, delivering a direct hit to my ribs.

  I couldn’t stop a groan as I fell flat on my ass, my lungs devoid of air while Duke let out a bellow of laughter as the horses all made a run for it… as far away as they could get from me.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, pulling my cut away from my body and lifting my shirt. “If I hadn’t been wearing my leather, that little bitch coulda broken my ribs.”

  Duke grinned, holding a hand out to me and helping me to my feet. “I knew that little girl was gonna do somethin’ great.”

  I scowled as I pressed a hand against my side and tried to catch my breath. “How the hell are we gonna get her back?”

  “Give it a minute,” he said, setting up the card table and two chairs. “Take a seat.”

  I gladly fell onto the metal folding chair and downed the glass of bourbon he’d set in front of me. Duke let out another whistle and then sat down and waited for Bubba and Penny to make their way over the hill again. Penny looked at me like she wanted to kill me, but maybe I was projecting.

  “Are we gonna try again?” I asked.

  “We ain’t doin’ nothin’. You’re gonna keep your ass in your seat and let a professional handle it.”

  I didn’t argue as Duke made quick work of chipping the filly.

  “Okay, brother, you gotta name her,” Duke said, once he was done.

  “Name who?”

  “The filly. You were her first kick, so you get the honor.”

  I chuckled. “Well, since there’s only one other woman who’s kicked me close to my heart without killing me, I’m gonna name her after her. Trouble.”

  Duke grinned. “I think that’s entirely appropriate.” He released Trouble’s lead and she trotted back to her mother as Duke joined me at the table again.

  We drank until the sun started to set, then Duke drove us back to the house where Pearl had prepared enough food to feed an army. Despite the pain in my ribs, I ate until I nearly exploded, falling into bed, happier than I’d been in a while.

  All-in-all, the day ended better than it had started. Little did I know, my happiness was going to be short lived.

  * * *

  A pounding on my door pulled me from my sex dream about Trouble and I snapped out, “What?” as I forced my eyes open.

  “Call for you,” Duke called through the door.

  I glanced at the clock beside the mattress. One A.M.

  Groaning, I slid gingerly off the bed and dragged on sweats before pulling open the door. “Who the fuck’s callin’ me at one in the mornin’?”

  “Minus,” Duke said. “He’s on the land line. Phone’s in the kitchen.”

  “Okay,” I rasped. I needed to get a new phone, stat. I headed to the kitchen and picked up the receiver. “Minus?”

  “You need to come home. Right now,” he said.

  “What’s going on. I thought you needed me to go to Savannah?”

  “I’m sending Tacky instead,” Minus replied, in a low tone. “You need to come home, Doozer. It’s your father.”

  My heart sunk. “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s in the ICU at Legacy. He was attacked but we got to him before they could…do anything worse.”

  “Attacked? By who? And what do you mean we got to him? Minus, what the fuck is going on?”

  “Just get home, kid,” he said softly. “I sent a car to take you to the airport. It should be there soon. I’ll be at the hospital when you get here.”

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I hissed out once I’d hung up the phone.

  Heading back to my room, I packed my bag, shoving my boots on just as the car arrived.

  Duke was standing on the front porch smoking a cigarette and he faced me as I started down the steps. “You let Pearl know when you get back safe, ya hear?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, brother, I’ll let Pearl know.”

  Duke gave me a chin lift and I climbed into the car, dreading the shitstorm I was about to go home to.

  Fuck me and the horse I rode in on… or got kicked by… or whatever the fuck old-tyme adage worked in this situation.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Trouble

  I WALKED INTO Dr. Fenton’s office this morning looking forward to our session. It had been four days since our last one, and I was in serious need of her counsel. Since the last time I’d seen her, I’d managed to earn three black eyes. One on my face, and two on my cadet record. After my back-to-back failures, I was confident Taxi was going to tell me to pack my bag and I hoped Dr. Fenton would have some insight on how I could persuade him to reconsider. Or maybe I could just ask him myself.

  I entered to find Taxi sitting in the center of
the room next to an empty chair and Dr. Fenton seated behind her desk.

  “Good morning,” Dr. Fenton said, cheerily. “I’ve asked Taxi to join us for today’s session.”

  “I can see that,” I replied, not so cheerily.

  “I know this time is typically reserved for just the two of us to talk, but I thought now might be a good time for the three of us to have a chat,” Dr. Fenton said.

  “A chat?” I asked, as my insides twisted into a knot. I began to ramble nervously. “Look, if you guys are gonna kick me out of the program please just tell me now because I’d rather not draw this out any longer than we have to—”

  “Trouble,” Dr. Fenton, said sweetly interrupting me. “Please, take a seat.”

  I did as she asked, avoiding eye contact with Taxi as I did. I couldn’t believe that after all I’d been through, I was about to wash out.

  “Taxi, would you like to start us off?” Dr. Fenton asked.

  “Sure,” he said, turning to me. “Trouble, why are you here at Quantico?”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, taken aback by his question. “I’m here because you asked me to be here.”

  “Just because I recruited you, doesn’t mean you had to say yes. What I’m asking is, what made you accept my invitation to come here?”

  I twisted in my seat, desperately searching for the answer Taxi was looking for.

  “I guess I didn’t realize I was being recruited. I just thought you had taken an interest in my shooting ability and one thing led to another.”

  “You think I asked you to join an elite undercover FBI team because I took an interest in your shooting ability?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I hissed.

  Taxi paused for a moment before asking, “Trouble, do you remember the night we met?”

  “It would be a little hard to forget,” I replied.

  “I remember it, too. Quite clearly,” Taxi said, warmly. “When I met you, I felt like I’d found a diamond in the rough. I may have stumbled upon you with a rifle in your hand, but I had no idea if you could use it or not. As a matter of fact, if I recall correctly, you were set up to miss the shot that I interrupted.”

  “Is that why you’re sending me home? Because I’m not a good enough shot?”

 

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