Rough, Raw, and Ready
Page 41

“No. But it ain’t like Ma and Pa don’t have the cash to hire a full-time nurse.” Trevor looked Lianna straight in the eyes. “You know why you’re stuck doin’ this? Because you don’t have the balls to stand up to them both and flat-out refuse.”
Lianna’s mouth opened. Snapped shut.
“I know I ain’t been around, so feel free to tell me to blow it out my ass, but if you don’t take a stand, your only function will be takin’ care of him while Ma smokes in the living room and does word searches all damn day. Is that the contribution you wanna have to the ranch? Think about it.” Trevor snagged his coat and wandered outside. Damn cold. He stamped his boots and had no idea why he’d left the warm comfort of the house.
Comfort. Right. Not a word he’d ever associate with the Glanzer abode.
He noticed Tanner’s horse trailer and ambled over, beating his fist on the door to the living quarters until a thump sounded inside and the door swung open.
A shirtless Tanner squinted at him. “What the fuck, Trevor? I was sleepin’.”
“It’s four in the afternoon. Why ain’t you helpin’ Brent with evenin’ chores?”
Tanner laughed. “Right.” Then he yawned in Trevor’s face and scratched his ass.
“I’m up. You might as well come in.”
“Gee, thanks.” Trevor set an empty cardboard thirty-pack of Keystone Light on the floor so he could squeeze into the bench seat of the dinette table.
“Wanna beer?” Tanner asked, cracking open the mini-fridge.
“Nah. I’m good.”
“Little wifey gotcha on a tight leash these days?”
“Yep.”
Tanner popped a top. Then a shit-eating grin broke out across his face. “Yeah right.
The day you let anyone control you—least of all a woman—is the day I eat my hat.”
Trevor studied his brother. Tanner’s dark hair stuck up every which way. Dark stubble covered his jaw. Hickeys dotted his neck. Tanner’s body frame was slight, and Trevor, at four inches taller, had always outweighed his brother. Not these days. Tanner packed on some serious poundage. His beer gut hung over the unbuttoned waistband of his jeans.
“So the old man called you back here.” Tanner plopped on the other end of the bench seat.
“Woulda been nice to know about Pa’s heart attack right after it’d happened, not a week later.”
Tanner shrugged his thin shoulders. “Maybe if you called to check in once in a while you’d’ve known.”
His brother’s attitude was another reminder on why Trevor had chosen to stay away.
“Anyway, we all know why you’re here.” Tanner chugged the beer. “Pa’s offerin’ you full control of the place, ain’t he?”
Trevor didn’t answer.
“You’ve always been his favorite.”
“What the fuck are you babblin’ about? Favorite. Right.” Trevor snorted. “That’s why I ain’t been home in years. Because I’m his favorite.”
“He ain’t puttin’ Brent in charge, or neither of the girls. So it leaves you and me as front runners.” Tanner twisted the metal tab off the beer can and flicked it at the garbage, yelling, “Score!” and pumping his arms in the air when it pinged into the can. “So I propose a compromise. We tell Pa we’re a package deal and we’ll both run it.”
“What about your rodeo career?”
“I’m havin’ a bad go of it. Truth is, if it wasn’t for all the free pussy I probably wouldn’t be doin’ it.”
“Don’t seem like the pussy is so free if you’re knockin’ up women all across the country and payin’ child support,” Trevor said slyly.
Tanner’s eyes narrowed. “That ornery fucker told you?”
“Yeah. Four women? You think you’d know what caused that condition by now, Tanner.”
“I was drunk. What can you do? Besides, I’m tired of livin’ on the pittance Pa gives me every month.”
Trevor froze, even as his heart rate spiked. “Pa is payin’ your way on the circuit?”
“Well, yeah. Didn’t he pay yours?”
Some favorite son. All the years he’d scraped by, living on next to nothing, and his father had basically given Brent a blank check? That went beyond unfair to plain damn sadistic. “Hell no. If I didn’t have enough money to pay the entry fees I didn’t compete.
Which made it important for me to win.”
“But you didn’t win.” Meanness glinted in Tanner’s bloodshot eyes. “You never brought home that all important World Championship belt buckle, didja?”
“I made it a lot further than you ever did.”
Tanner shrugged again. “Almost don’t cut it. Might as well be at the bottom of the heap rather than stuck in second place.”
Trevor stared at his brother. Surprised…yet not.
“That don’t have nothin’ to do with us runnin’ the ranch.”
It had everything to do with runnin’ the ranch.
The whole scenario unfolded in Trevor’s mind like a nightmare. He and Chassie would sell her family home and move here. He’d do all the work. Brent would continue to be lazy, continue to lie, continue to think his charm made up for his lack of a work ethic. Brent would resent the hell out of him so he wouldn’t do shit either. Neither his mother nor his sisters would welcome his wife into their inner circle so Chassie would be alone. After a few kids their marriage would end up like his parents’ marriage and her parents’ marriage.
Chassie wouldn’t stick around if she was miserable. All these cheery scenarios were before Trevor considered Edgard couldn’t be part of his life and the thought of losing either of them made him ill.
“…told him I wouldn’t do it.”
Trevor refocused on his younger brother, chattering away, oblivious to Trevor’s silent ruminations. He slid out of the bench seat and stood. “I gotta call Chassie before supper.”
“Feelin’ the weight of that old ball and chain?”
“Something like that.” Trevor felt the weight of her absence like an iron ball in his heart and he bailed before Tanner subjected him to more of his so-called Wyoming charm.
Trevor tried Chassie’s cell phone. No answer. He tried the house phone. No answer.
He paced in his room. Forcing himself to wait five minutes before he dialed again.
Finally after thirty minutes of beating a path in the carpet, Chassie picked up the house phone on the twelfth ring.
“Hello?” she said breathlessly.
“Chassie? Baby, you all right?”
“Uh. Yeah.”
“Where you been? I’ve been tryin’ to call and you didn’t answer your cell.”
“Oh. Umm. Edgard and I were in the barn and I must’ve forgot it. We just walked in the house.”
A rustling noise, like a hand clapped over the receiver.
“Chass?”
“What? Shit. Hang on a second.” Mumbled voices. Chassie snapping, “It’s fine.
Don’t even think about it. No!” The receiver crashed and she shouted, “Give it back!”
“Hey, Trev, what’s up?” Edgard asked.
“What in the hell is goin’ on there?”
“Nothin’. How are things going with your family?”
“Shitty.” Trevor heard angry whispering.
Edgard said, “That’s good.”
Trevor stared at the phone in his hand. “Good that things are goin’ shitty?”
“Ah. No. Sorry, Chassie was yammering at me and I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“She’s washing her hands.”
“Give her the goddamn phone. Now.”
“Fine.” Trevor heard them arguing although he couldn’t make out the actual words, just the tone.
“So when you comin’ home?” In the background he heard Edgard say, “Tell him.”
Trevor frowned. “Tell me what?”
“Um. Tell you how much we miss you.”
Edgard snorted so loudly Trevor heard him.
“What’s happenin’ with your family?” Chassie asked.
“My dad offered me full responsibility for runnin’ the ranch. Permanently. He’ll put it in writin’ and everything.”
“But…” Chassie sputtered, “B-but you aren’t actually considering it?”
“Of course I am. It could be a great opportunity for us.” He was such a fucking liar.
One lousy day around his family and he gave into the urge to be mean to the people he loved just because he could. Just because he was confused and pissed off they weren’t telling him something, and dammit he missed them. Missed being a part of them. Missed who he was when he was with them.
Silence. Then fierce whispers. Then a sniffle.
Jesus. Chassie wasn’t crying? “Chass? Baby, you okay?”
Edgard snatched the phone. “No, she’s not okay. Don’t do this, Trev. Please. Not to her. Not to me, and not to yourself. I’m asking you to wait before making a rash decision.”
The phone crashed again. Sounded like they were wrestling for it. In a rush, Chassie said, “I love you, Trevor. I know you think you have to figure this out on your own, but you don’t. You have us—both me and Edgard—to help you. Come home to us and we’ll talk about it.”
Two raps echoed on his door. “Trevor?” Lianna said. “We’re takin’ Dad into the hospital.”
“Chassie. I hafta go. I’ll call you later.” He hung up.
The rest of the evening was a cluster-fuck of epic proportions. By the time Trevor returned to his room, it was past midnight. Too late to call. Or was he too much of a chickenshit to call because he owed them both an apology?
Either way, he’d make that request for forgiveness in person. He’d grovel if he had to…without qualifications.