Ranch Manny - B.A. Tortuga Page 0,71
“You want to come, Poppy?”
His father had a look of utter panic on his face, and Trace fought his laughter. “Poppy needs to help me with Daisy.”
Jakob looked at him. “Why? You never need help.”
“I’ll pass this time, son, but I’ll come out and see the baby kid when it’s born.” Pop waved Jakob off with Wiley.
“Good save, son.”
“No problem.” He sighed. “They forgot the coffee.” He leaned out the back door. “Jakob! The thermos is on the porch!”
“Got it, Dad-O!”
That left him holding Daisy who wanted down, the girls gone to change, and his parents staring at him, mouths open a little. “You need to hit the bathroom, Pop? There’s a little guest suite over here.”
“Thanks.”
Pop headed off, and he looked at Mom again. “Hey.”
“You’re…a busy guy.”
“You have no idea.” He snorted and checked the time. All three girls needed their nap, the puppies needed a potty break, and he needed to put brownies in the oven and start the pizza dough.
“Do you need help?” She started rolling up her sleeves.
“Sure. I’ll take it. Do you want to help Daisy or make brownies? She still likes a bottle and a snuggle before her nap.”
“Oh, I haven’t gotten to feed a baby since Susannah.” She reached right for Daisy.
“Excellent. Girls?” He got the things together for the bottle. “Girls?” When they didn’t answer, he frowned. “I’ll be right back.”
He peeked in on them, and they were sound asleep on the floor, surrounded in their dress-up clothes.
Trace shook his head, then tiptoed off. It wouldn’t hurt them to nap right there. “Sleeping like angels.” He finished making up the bottle before he started running warm water for his yeast. “I have no doubt they were up late talking about y’all’s visit.”
“They’re so cute together. I’m so glad for Susannah.” Mom handed Daisy the bottle and she grabbed it, snuggling in to Mom’s arms.
“They immediately bonded. It was amazing. Susannah needed a friend, and so did Caro.” He dreaded their first real fight, but he was going to enjoy this as long as he could.
“I love how they’re going to be twins.” She beamed over at him. “And Jakob is delightful.”
“He is. He’s a cowboy, through and through.” And Trace loved them all.
“You I’m a little worried about.”
“Me? Why?” He was working, busy, had a great family, a fabulous lover.
“You just seem run ragged.” She waved the hand accidentally nudging the bottle, which made Daisy grunt like a piglet. “Sorry.”
“Babies, puppies, cowboys—ranch life isn’t for cowards.”
“No, I suppose not. Does Brent help? I mean here. At all?”
“Sure. Shit, the goats and chickens are my responsibility, but problem goat pregnancy? Above my paygrade. Jakob heads to school in the fall, the girls start the year after that.” He wouldn’t know what to do with himself then.
“So you and Brent are together? A couple?”
He heard Dad in the hall, but then the footsteps retreated again. Coward.
“I told you that, Mom. It happened, but I don’t regret it.”
“No, of course not. I hope to get to know him and see he’s a wonderful man. It’s just that the lines between work and life can get blurred.” She shrugged, frowning a little. “And this isn’t what you went to college for, you know?”
“I know. I’m a queer elementary teacher. It went poorly. You know that.” He dropped his voice. “Hell, that was how Susannah came about.”
“I know, sweetie. I also know you wouldn’t trade anything in the world for her, but I worry.” She gave him an arch look. “It’s my job.”
“It is. I work hard, but I’m learning a ton. Seriously.”
“I’m glad. You’ll have to give me a tour once Daisy is down and the brownies are in.”
“Sure. It’s a neat old house. Been in Brent’s family a long time.”
Mom frowned deeply, like she’d just had this terrible thought. “Do you ever wish we had something like that?”
Man, Mom was in a weird mood.
“An old house? A ranch? You’re not really the Mother Earth News type like Granny, Mom.” Where the fuck was his dad?
“True.” She laughed. “And Pop isn’t the handy type.”
“Hey, now.” Pop ducked back in. “There’s a bloodhound in the front room.”
“Oh man. Is she muddy?”
“No, she appears dry. I was petting her.”
“Her name’s Mama Cass.”
Pop blinked. “Seriously?”
“Yep.” His lover had an unnatural fascination with sixties music.
“That’s really cool.”
“Yep. The border collie who was barking at you like a maniac earlier is Ringo.”
“Ah, the Beatles.” Pop leaned against the counter, watching him. “Your granny would laugh.”
“Right?” He covered the pizza crust. “I