and Hal said he could give me ten minutes.”
“You had almost that many, I think.” Brent gave him an “I’m sorry” look. “I really need him, baby. Wiley had to go home. Downdraft hit and took part of his roof.”
“Oh God. Okay. I’m up. I need to help feed puppies.” And make a puppy place with newspaper and all. And get kids snacks and start supper. He was fixin’ to cry.
What was the saying? Cowboy up or get in the truck?
“There’s a pen in the garage. We had it for Ringo when we got him three years ago.” Sometimes Brent could read his mind. “I’ll get that before I head back. We’ll have to get them a crate or two.”
“Yeah. You want them in the mudroom? The sun porch?” The rain porch?
“Let’s do the mudroom right now. We can move them later, but that way Ringo is less likely to get at them. He’ll want to play.”
“No problem.” He picked Daisy up and plopped her in her walker. Naptime was over.
Time to get back to the wars.
Chapter 18
Brent figured a bomb must have gone off in the house. Well, in the kitchen, at least. He took off his boots in the mudroom, peeking at the pen that had been set up, where four puppies curled together in a laundry basket filled with fleece. Jakob lay on a body pillow on the floor, covered with a quilt, hand on the basket.
The kitchen…well. Brent had missed supper, and it wasn’t dirty with dishes, but color books and crayons were strewn all over, along with puppy formula and food, a loaf of misshapen, burned on one end bread, and a pile of folded towels on the counter.
When he slipped into the family room, he found Curly in the recliner, Daisy asleep on his chest, and the girls sacked out on couch, both wearing glitter and marker stains.
So where the fuck was Trace?
That was answered by the sound of retching from one of the back bathrooms.
Curly cracked an eye. “Kid’s got a sick headache. Looks like hammered shit.”
“Fuck. I’ll go check on him.” Maybe it was the mold? It was getting fierce. He trotted back to the master, which was where he found his lover. “Trace?”
“Sorry. Sorry, I have the worst headache. I need to run get some sinus meds.”
“Are we out?” They usually had some floating around, but he could go get some.
“I don’t know. I’ve been using Tylenol, but…”
“Shit, honey. You need to let me know when you need stuff. Hell, I could have given you the debit card.”
“I—” Trace shrugged and went to wet a cloth and wash his face. “How are the puppies?”
“Asleep. Kids too. Want me to go get some meds?”
“No. You haven’t even eaten. I could maybe run out after everyone’s in bed.”
The grocery store was open until ten.
“If you want to go, go on now and I’ll hang out and eat, watch the kids.” Brent wasn’t sure what was going on. Maybe it was the headache, but Trace was all weird.
“Okay. You—do you need anything? I’m sorry about the bread.”
“Half of it looks fine.” Brent stepped in close, but Trace staggered back.
“I was sick, hon.”
“Oh. Sure, baby. Sorry.”
“I don’t want you to be ‘ew, bile mouth.’ I don’t want to have bile mouth.”
“Okay, baby. Brush up, huh? Then one of us will go get those meds. I’ll go make a sandwich.”
“Sounds great. I’m sorry, huh? I know things are a wreck.”
“It was a crazy day.” Trace was weird when things weren’t perfect. Things went to hell a lot, especially on the ranch. He reckoned he couldn’t imagine a place where you were less in control—they had kids, critters, and God’s will to deal with. The rain was…well, it was a challenge. “I can help after I eat.”
“Thank you. Let me brush my teeth, and—” The lightning crashed, and the lights went out, and Trace gasped and went stiff against him.
“Oh, Jesus Fuck.” He patted Trace’s ass. “I’ll go start the generator.”
Trace was already reaching for the toothbrush. “I’ll light candles.”
“Good man.” Brent headed back out to the front room to check on the kids. They were blinking and stirring but not worried. “Be good, guys. I’ll get the generator on, but what do we have to do?”
“Not turn things on!” That was Jakob.
“Daddy Brent? It’s dark.” Suzy was sounding a little shaky.
“I know, baby girl. The power went out, is all. Dad-O is on his way to light candles, and I’ll start the generator to keep the