Ranch Manny - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,29
with the littles, Bald Harold? I just want to put some antiseptic on Trace’s scalp.”
Bald Harold blinked at Trace, eyes going wide. “Sh-sure. Sure, boss. No problem.”
“Distract them, hmm?”
“Sure. Sure, man.” Bald Harold started singing the chicken polka and doing the dance, and Brent dragged them to the house.
“Sorry about this,” Trace groaned, and Brent shrugged. It was a ranch. Shit happened. He just hated that it happened to his—to Trace.
“That Ollie is a mean un. Have a sit on the toilet, huh?”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to screw up. I didn’t see him.”
“Hey, you didn’t. He got out of his pen. He does that.” If anything, he should have warned Trace about the damn things. Ostriches. He had Curly to blame for them. “Hey, where’s Curly?”
“He should be sleeping in the front room. He said he had a headache.”
“Oh.” Brent hadn’t looked toward the recliner. He would check on the way out. “Okay, tilt your head this way.”
“It feels like a lot of blood, but you know what they say about head wounds.”
“Well, he took a chunk out of you.” He wet a washcloth, then wiped away some of the blood.
“It feels like it’s a big chunk.”
“Pretty good size. I don’t think it needs stitches, though.” If it was him, Brent would superglue it.
“Oh good. I’m not a stitches person. Do you have any Nu Skin for it?” He had to say, Trace was keeping his shit together.
“We might at that.” He tried to keep some around, and he’d flat-out forgotten it.
“If not, glue it shut. I don’t want to scare the kids.”
“You did great. I would have been cussing a blue streak.” He thought maybe he had anyway.
“Yeah, well. I was a teacher. I pulled down the world map in my classroom, and it came off the wall and bashed me in the forehead. I had to call the principal, calm the kids, and not scream, all at once.” Trace pushed his hair away from his forehead, showing a long line of scar.
“Shit, honey. That had to sting.” He grinned. “I got kicked by a bronc once, split my earlobe in half.” He showed Trace his right ear.
“Damn! Damn, man! That’s all that happened?”
“Yeah. He just grazed me. I thought I was bleeding to death.” He staunched the flow of Trace’s blood as well as he could. “Let me look for that liquid bandage. You hold this.”
“Got it.” Trace was a little pale, but he was holding his own.
He rummaged in the big medicine cabinet, finally coming out with the bottle in hand. “A-ha.”
“Go for it.” Trace sucked in a deep breath and held it.
“Honey, you need to breathe. I still have to get this bottle open.”
Trace blew out his air. “Oh. Well, I was all brave and stuff.”
He chuckled softly. Lord have mercy, this man. “You’re gonna be fine. Just don’t bite me when I doctor you up.”
“I’ll leave that to the ostriches.” Trace tried to laugh, the sound a little breathless.
“Uh-huh. They’re evil. I’m fixin’ to get rid of them.”
“Why do you even have them?” Trace moved the cloth when Brent nudged his hands.
“Curly wanted them. They make him laugh.”
“Oh. Well, then maybe you can keep them a bit longer. A stronger fence?”
“We’ll see. I’m fixin’ to glue you shut, now.”
Trace sucked in a breath and held it.
Brent squeezed the edges of the wound together, then spread the liquid bandage around the edge. He knew how much that stung.
Trace didn’t make a squeak, that flat belly just rippled under his shirt.
That was pretty and not something he should admire when Trace was hurting, but that body made him happy. Tight and lean—he liked what he saw.
“Huh?” Shit, Trace had asked him something, and he’d missed it.
“I asked if it was bad.”
“It’s not deep, but it’s split pretty good.”
“It’ll be fine. No one will see it.”
“Right.” He washed his hands after he finished up. “I think we averted the crisis with the kids. Let’s check on Curly. You can sit with him, and I’ll go get the kids to bring them in, huh?”
“Yeah. I’m going to wash up, and I’ll be right there to make snacks. No worries.”
“You bet.” He touched Trace’s hand, wanting him to know it would be okay.
“Don’t worry, boss. I’m not going to puke or pass out. You have my word.”
“Hey, if you do, we’ll clean it up.” He wasn’t judging at all. “Take it slow.” Brent would make sure to find an ice pack too.
“Thanks. I’ll be right there.”
He left before he grabbed