Chapter Six

DALTON CHECKED to make sure the sound system was torn down and locked away, and then he checked the stock, the horses, the trailers. He assured the concessions were locked tight and the beer put away, even though that wasn’t his responsibility.

He caught a couple of young teens hiding behind the rigs and shooed them off with a growl and a snap of the bullwhip he kept on his belt.

Lord love a duck, it was sure a Saturday now, wasn’t it?

He peeked in on Deb’s trailer, not wanting to wake her. She’d had some kind of food poisoning and was finally resting.

All was dark there, so he went to Ben’s and knocked. “You home, man?”

The door opened, Ben beaming at him. “Hey, bud. All locked up tight?”

“All shut down. You busy?” He wasn’t tired, and he was bored as all get-out.

“Nope. I was playing Candy Crush.”

“Exciting.”

Ben waved him in, and Dalton plopped down in a chair. “How’s the head?”

Shrugging, Ben sighed. “No concussion, but Brandi ripped me a new one on the phone.”

“Yeah, she likes you. God fucking knows why.”

“Shut up.” Ben sat across from him. “How are you?”

“Fine. Tired. Bored.” Trying to work the kinks out of Tank being back.

“Yeah. It’s tough, how the locals ain’t fond.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if it’s not fond or just fucking bored. Whichever. I don’t like it.”

“I hear you.” Ben pulled out a Yahtzee game.

“Beer?”

“Fridge.”

“’Kay.”

They settled, the sound of rolling dice the only thing they heard for a while.

Then another knock came, Dustin’s head popping in. “Can I play? I brought a six-pack.”

“Shit, yeah,” Ben said. “Come on in.”

“Hey, Bubba.” He shot Dustin a grin. “How goes?”

“It goes.” Dustin eased down to the weird couch thing. “Bored. Booooooooooooored.”

“You should have done walk-through. I got to pull my whip out.”

“Well, shit. I would have loved that.” Dustin was a closet sadist, he thought.

“Scared the hell out of a couple kids.”

Ben chuckled. “We were all those kids once.”

“Bubba and I were those kids a lot, eh, Dustin?”

“Shit. I thought Pops was going to beat us to death that time in Taylor.”

“You two and me and… who was with us, Dalton?”

Dalton frowned and tried to remember. “That redheaded boy, the one with the freckles.”

“Uh-huh. Ansel.”

They’d teased him mercilessly about becoming a photographer.

“He did my wedding shoot,” Ben said.

“We were there, buddy.” He’d been best man, and Dustin had been the other groomsman.

“Well, yeah. I was just sayin’.”

They all grinned at each other. There wasn’t a story of one of theirs they didn’t all know, up to and including Ben’s baby birth tales.

“Let’s play, y’all. Overall loser buys lunch tomorrow.”

“I like it.” Ben pulled out new scorecards. “Where are we tomorrow after we leave here?”

“We’ll all head for Durango Monday morning,” Dustin said. “We can pull in as late as next Sunday. We’re doing the big fair from Tuesday through the weekend.”

He liked that. Maybe he’d go get some fishing in. Colorado was almost every Texan’s second-favorite place.

A little trout fishing, a little Rocky Mountain high. It was all good. Estes maybe. He loved the park, and the road up had a hundred places to stop and toss in a line.

It was a plan. He wasn’t going to share it, though. Maybe this once he didn’t want company. He glanced sideways at Dustin, who was grinning at him, a knowing look in his eyes.

He stuck his tongue out at his twin. Dustin would head to Telluride. He knew it. They weren’t fooling each other.

“I’ll be going home, then.” Ben would drive insane hours to get home, then come back. Wife and kids would do that.

“Shit, you can just take the whole thing, buddy. This is small potatoes.” And Ben needed to heal.

“Maybe I will. Save my entry fees for Wimberley.”

“There you go.” They all loved cowboy Christmas. Central Texas was home, and they could just stay, visit Momma, stuff themselves with good food.

“Who’s doing Belton this year?” Ben asked.

“Cervi. They’ve got two touring units now.” Dalton liked the other big family rodeo company a lot. They were good folks.

“Cool. I’ll have to stop on the way home and get goodies for all my girls.” Ben was already on his way home in the pit of his heart.

Dalton couldn’t imagine it. He loved the old homestead, and he missed his momma, but he’d never had anyone special to go home to. His twin was right here on the road, and so was—everyone else.

Everyone but the babies, the dogs, and Momma, and they were home, where they belonged. One day he hoped he had… something. Something to be home for that wasn’t his siblings or the rodeo. He’d thought Rocket might have been that, for about six seconds of an eight-second ride, but they hadn’t even managed to ride each other long enough to deserve a score on the leaderboard, not in the grand scheme of things.

Fuck.

He grabbed what was left of his beer. “Gonna call it a night, boys.”

“We’re not playing for lunch, Dee? You quit now, you’re paying by default.” Dustin grinned at him.

His ass hit the seat again. “Not happening. Bring it on.”

“That’s what I thought.” Dustin tossed the dice into the cup and started shaking.

Yeah, yeah. He needed to stay and be social. He could go nurse his butt-hurt alone anytime.

Shit, what did he have to be a bitch about? He was here. He was with his people.

And, hell, there wasn’t a thing wrong with having Tank Martin’s hard body to admire under the brim of his hat.