Ranch Manny - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,11

The baby isn’t as fun as the dogs.”

Susannah giggled, which made his heart melt. She really needed other kids to connect with. She really did. When she’d been in Austin, she’d had a babysitter with a teenaged daughter.

“Are you hooligans ready for macaroni and hot dogs?” They could all sit around the kiddie table and eat.

“Yay!” Jakob actually did the arms up victory pose. “Can I have my hot dogs in my macaronis?”

“You can have them any way you want, buddy.”

“No ketchup, though,” Brent muttered. “That’s too much sugar, okay?”

Note to self, he thought. Low-sugar ketchup.

“No worries. I have this. Schoolteacher, remember? I know how sugar and young men don’t mix.” He was particularly suited to this.

“Cool. I need to go make a call. I’m supposed to deliver a horse, and I need to let Jon know I’ll be late. Be right back.” Brent fled, and he had a feeling it was a bit of a relief to have someone else to help watch the kids. Brent seemed a bit harried.

“Okay. So, who wants their hot dogs on a bun?” he asked as he peeked out the back door to check on Curly. “You want a hot dog, sir? Lord, it’s chilly out here. You’ll freeze.”

“Oh, that would be a kindness. I like mac and cheese too. Even the kids’ kind.” Curly was blinky, but his gaze cleared pretty fast. “You need some help?”

“Nope. You find out who did it.” He held the door open as the old cowboy wandered in and pointed to the First 48, which Curly had on the big screen. “Besides, I’m going to need to have you show me the chickens and everything.”

And he had to learn to do that while he wrangled four kids. Fuck.

“I will. Hal will be back and can watch the kids while they nap, and I can show you.”

Right. There was a Bald Harold. “Excellent. I’ll bring you your lunch in two shakes.”

“Thank you.” Curly met his look head-on, and he knew Curly knew he was slipping. That had to suck so bad.

“No problem. I’m going to need a friend here, and Susannah has already made one.”

“She’s a hoot.” Curly laid his head back again, yawning, so Trace went to drop the hot dogs.

Brent was back in the kitchen, sitting on a chair backward, smiling at the kids, and that relaxed expression turned the man from rugged to a little breathtaking. How crazy was that? “Uncle Jon says hi.”

“Would you like a hot dog, boss?”

He heard Susannah telling Caro, “My mommy is dead with Jesus.”

Caro gasped. “Mine too!”

He met Brent’s eyes, and man, that smile was gone. Boom. There he was, grumpy cowboy. He got it. Every goddamn time he was getting his feet under him, the rug was yanked away again.

Susannah sighed. “Maybe they can be friends.”

“Uh-huh. You wanna color?” And that was that. No tears, no fussing, just “you wanna color?” He supposed this was the natural way of grieving, of healing, especially when someone was little. Kids were resilient, and God knew that children made families wherever they could.

“After lunch, girls.” They both glanced up at him with wide eyes. God, the cuteness.

“Okay.” They said it in chorus, and he shook his head. Brent’s warm chuckle followed.

“I’ll take two hot dogs if we have enough.”

“I made the whole package.” The girls could have half. One for Jakob, two for Curly, two for Brent, one for him and one extra for whoever needed it. “No stress.”

“Cool. Thanks, man. I know I tossed you in the deep end.”

“We’ll chat tonight, hmm? This is…” What? He was going to tell this macho cowboy that literally could be the Marlboro Man right now that he loved taking care of people, of things? That he was a nurturer? That he enjoyed the weird, psycho business of life?

No.

“This is workable,” he finally settled on.

“Good deal. It’s nice to have another set of hands.”

“It’s nice to have something to do.” He fed kids, boss, Curly, then found some applesauce in the cabinet and a bib on the drying rack. He could feed Daisy and himself at the same time.

“You okay?” Brent asked around a mouthful of food.

“I am. Does she need more than applesauce?” He got her in her little seat and put her bib on.

“She’ll eat a little something later on, like carrots and chicken, but for now applesauce will be perfect.” Brent tucked into his hot dogs. “Chew with your mouth closed, Jakob.”

“Yes, sir. Is there going to be dessert?”

Trace cast his