by BA Tortuga
“Yeah.” That was a bright side. No paparazzi like there would have been in LA. “Can I have a hug?”
“You can have dozens.” She came right to him, wrapping him up and holding him close.
“Oh, it’s good to see you.” He hugged right back, letting their closeness comfort him.
“Ditto. It’s been too long. We’re both too busy.” She smelled like strawberries.
“We have. Where’s the soon to be hubs?”
“Riding. He wanted a tour of the old mine thingee.” She snorted softly, but it didn’t sound ugly or derisive, more fond. “I was waiting for you.”
“Well, the way my day’s going, if you went, you would have fallen down a shaft.”
“Hey, now.” She patted his back, jostling him and making him frown. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Lunch yesterday. Supper was business and liquid.” Beth was on some strange new diet involving pineapple juice and collards.
“Butthead. What do you want?” She headed to the phone, an old-timey contraption with a cradle and a great old handset.
“Breakfast food? I can’t face anything sandwichy or soupy right now.”
“Hello, Mr. Geoff? Can I get bacon and eggs and toast in—” She looked at him. “What’s your cabin number, Bubba?”
“Uh. I have no idea.”
She started for the door, then stopped. “Yes. My brother. Oh, cool. Thank you so much. He’s been on the road all night and can’t face roast beef. Uh-huh. Okay, bye.” She hung up and grinned at him. “You’ll love Geoff. He’s, like, this super chef. Rainbow dreads, piercings—relatively hot. Y’all could hook up.”
“I’m not at your wedding to hook up, Stevie.” Now his head was starting to throb in time with his chest.
“Of course not. I was just… Are you sure you don’t need a doctor?”
“Huh? I’m sure it’s stress.” He might keel over.
“Are you sure? I’ll run you down to Aspen. What if it’s bad?” She was starting to flutter.
“Hush. They said they could get someone to come up if I needed.” He met her worried gaze. “I might need it.”
“I’m on it.” She still had the phone in her hand, after all. “Ford, my brother needs a doctor. Now.”
Things got a little blurry after that, but the doctor was a kind old butthead who insisted on a chest X-ray at least down in town. Doctor Huston, his name was.
“I don’t want a fuss,” Simon protested. Not Aspen. People would recognize him there. Then Stevie’s small private wedding would be a mess.
“We can go to Glenwood,” the doc said. “Small place where I can sneak you in the back.”
“Fine. No press.”
Ford clucked his teeth. “Let me grab him a sweatshirt and one of Quartz’s knit caps.”
“Sounds good.”
He leaned on Stevie, who hugged him gently, and sighed. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”
“It’s okay. It wouldn’t feel right without some drama.” She winked at him and kissed his cheek. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“Nah. You have all your stuff, and the smaller the group, the better.”
“I’ll drive down and bring him back,” the Ford guy said from the doorway, and Simon had the craziest urge to ask for Michael. Who didn’t have a vehicle, now did he?
“It’s all good. You got to start resting more, hmm?” the cowboy that ran the place said.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry to be so much trouble.”
“Things were going too smooth.” Stevie chuckled. “Love you. I’m coming with.”
“I love you. You don’t have to. I’ll be back in a few.” He hoped. This was nothing but soreness, he would bet, but a panic attack now would just make it worse, and better to get it checked out.
“Shut up. I’m the bride. I make the rules.”
He had to get through the wedding, dammit.
That was it.
Chapter 5
Michael and the girls trekked to the kitchen at noon-thirty and peered in. “Hello? Are we too late for lunch? Geoff?”
If necessary, he had emergency peanut butter, jelly, and bread, but he was praying Geoff had something warm and yummy to offer. To be honest, his mouth was set on that roast beef.
“Hey! Sorry, I was getting more bread out of the pantry.” Geoff appeared, armed with loaves of crusty bread. “My girls!”
“Geoff!” The girls went right to him.
“Did you hear—” Chloe started.
“The truck got smashed!” Mickey finished.
“Oh no! Come help me put cheese on this roast beef and tell me what happened.” Geoff hugged the girls and winked at him.
They chattered at Geoff, speaking in circles, which Michael was used to. The more excited they got, the harder it was to understand.
Geoff never seemed to worry about it, simply nodded and smiled and answered occasionally. He was a good guy, and he set the girls up putting white cheese on lines of roast beef laid out on parchment.
“How are you doing?” Geoff asked, once there was relative quiet.
“Okay. I mean, I’m okay.” No complaining. “Did we miss lunch?”
“Nope. I’m working on the second wave. I sent a bunch of sandwiches off with a riding party earlier.” Geoff began slicing bread. He was kind of amazing. “Did you hear the man in the accident went down to the hospital?”
“Oh?” Fuck. What the hell was wrong with Simon?
“Yeah. They want to do some X-rays. He might have hit his chest on the steering wheel.”
“That sucks.” Simon would hate having to do something so exposed, he thought. Not that the man had any trouble exposing himself before. “I hate that he got hurt. I hate that it happened at all.”
“Sh—stuff happens.” Stoney walked in, poured himself a cup of coffee, face a little like a thundercloud. “People need to understand their limits.”
“Uh-oh.” Geoff smiled gently. “Hungry, boss?”
“I—I suppose I should eat, but I have to get some stuff done. You have something portable?” Stoney sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I have the tow trucks coming. I’m sending them to Carbondale. Do you need a rental car, Michael?”
“Not right now. If I do, I can get someone to take me down, right?”
“Or they can come get you. We’ll work it.”
Geoff slapped together a sammy for Stoney. “Handheld, boss. These girls are a cheese machine.”
“Thank you, Geoff, ladies. Y’all rock. I appreciate it. I promise to be in a better humor this afternoon, and we’ll visit.”
Poor Stoney. He so rarely got rattled.
“Okay, Stoney.” Chloe darted over. “Do you need a hug?”
She got a surprised look; then Stoney grinned and opened his arms. “You know what, honey? I think I do.”
“You looked like it.” She wrapped her little arms around Stoney, and damn if Michael didn’t get a little misty. His sweet girl.
Mickey looked at Geoff, rolled her eyes, then went right back to work. And his logical one always made him smile. Practical as the earth, his Mickey.
Geoff chuckled softly, then slid a plate to him. Fresh bread piled high with roast beef and cheese, lettuce and tomato, accompanied by a load of chips. Nice.
His belly rumbled loud enough that Stoney chuckled.
“Damn, man. You need to not starve yourself.”
“I don’t!” Come to think of it, though, the girls had eaten cereal while he’d had…a cup of coffee.
“Daddy is bad about not having a bite.”
“He is, huh?” Geoff gave him the same look Stoney was giving him.
“Tattletale,” he accused. “My soft-hearted girl.”
“We just worry about you, Daddy,” Mickey said, staring at him as she deadpanned. “After all, you do pay the bills.”
He hooted, and Stoney cracked up. “Good girl, thinking of the bottom line. Okay, I’m off. Thanks for the sandwich, y’all.”
“You’re we
lcome,” Geoff and the girls said in unison.
“Lord, you guys are hoots.” He dug into his sandwich with a happy moan.
By the time he was half done, Geoff had a grilled cheese sandwich for Chloe, and Mickey was eating a roll-up of roast beef, cheese, and pickles—no bread.
“They’re as different as anything, aren’t they?” Geoff asked, and he nodded.
“Although in some ways, they’re two peas in a pod.”
“Yeah. I mean, I can see that.” Geoff grinned. “You’re all good eggs.”
“Eggs are yummy.” Both girls said that, and he had to laugh again. They varied wildly on meat, but they loved eggs.
Eggs. Toast. Tomatoes. Grapes. Cheese crackers.
He chuckled softly. His whole world was his girls, seriously. He knew their food, their hair, the fact they both hated some little actress from Nickelodeon who had become a craft kit magnate at some craft store…
“Daddy…” Mickey singsonged. “Where are you?”
“I’m daydreaming about my girls,” he sang back.
“Oh, we like those dreams. Sometimes they come with presents.”
“And sometimes just roast beef,” he teased.
“And sometimes new horses!” Mickey shot back.
“Or ice cream!” Chloe added.
“Ice cream we got,” Geoff said. “You guys can choose a flavor later.”
“Strawberry!” they chimed. “With real strawberries!”
“You got it.”
“Girls! That’s a lot of work.”
Geoff waggled his eyebrows. “Au contraire. I got a new machine.”
“Oh? Is it fancy?” Michael watched the cooking competitions with the girls. He’d always wanted to see one of those big old ice cream churns up close. He’d only ever had the kind one kid sat on while the other kid turned the crank.
“Wanna see? It’s in the big pantry next to the…wait for it. Blast chiller.” Geoff did the nod-nod, wink-wink thing, and Michael could tell how proud he was. Like a mama bear.
“Oh. Oh, clever girl,” he teased.
“Daddy! Mr. Geoff’s not a girl!”
“It’s a movie thing.” He winked at Geoff, who laughed right out loud.
“Oh.” Chloe blinked at him, and Mickey rolled her eyes.
“Daddies are weird, Sister, that’s all.”
“So are Geoffs!” Geoff led him to the back, where a shiny new ice cream stand churn really did sit next to a blast chiller. “Bride wants an ice cream social.”
“That’s cool. Seriously, man. I want to watch you spin the ice cream.”
“We’ll have an ice-cream-making thing.” Geoff clapped his hand on Michael’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you, man.”
“Ditto! Y’all know I come up here whenever I have a chance.” He loved the guys, the ranch, the area.
“I know. It’s a good thing. Want a cookie? I made peanut butter and chocolate chunk.”
“Peanut butter, please. I do love a cookie.” He laughed as the girls bounced, gazes flashing up to him, asking permission. “And the girls would love chocolate chunk.”
“Milk?” Geoff bustled. The guy was made to nurture people.
“Please, thank you.” His girls were so good. So good.
They all had milk and cookies, and by the end, they had Stoney’s son, Quartz, in there too. He was growing into a fine man. “Ladies! Sorry I missed you coming in.”
“Quartz! Hey!” Chloe bounced up to him. “Can I hug you? Please?”
“Yeah. Thanks for asking first.” Quartz gave Chloe a careful hug.
Chloe hugged him tight, her little face lit up with happiness. She was such a lover, and Quartz was a doll baby for letting her get away with it when hugs weren’t really his thing.
“When the wedding is over, Dad says we can go ride horses together with your dad.”
“Cool!” Mickey put her hands in the air and twirled. “Geoff says strawberry ice cream later.”
“I like that. I’m going to go watch TV on the big screen. Want to come?”
“Daddy? Can we?”
“Yeah. Yeah, thanks for asking, Quartz.”
Quartz grinned. “I need to get off my feet a bit.” He sounded like Stoney all the way.
Geoff and Michael managed not to crack up—just barely.
Well, at least until the kids were all gone. Then they both got to chuckling.
“Lord have mercy,” Michael muttered. “He is exactly like his daddy.”
“He is. But he’s taken on a lot of Ford too. It’s good to see.”
“They’re amazing.” He’d wanted that for his family—that connection, that love. Hell, he’d had that with Rhi, but God had a sense of humor.
“Yeah.” Geoff looked super wistful for a moment, but then it was gone. “Want anything else?”
“Can I just sit? I feel like I haven’t had adult time in ages.”
“Hell, yes. I have an hour to breathe, with the bride and her brother in Glenwood. That’s some crazy shit.”
“Yeah.” Michael took a deep breath. “I know him.”
“Simon McFee?”
“Yeah. Yeah, my wife and I opened for him one year before he hit it big. We all had a great little tour together.” Involving a ton of sex. A ton. Which ended up in two beautiful babies.
“Oh?” Geoff nodded easily. “Wow. So he wasn’t famous then?”
“Not like he is now.” He shrugged. Simon had been more a rockabilly type, a little folksy, not a wild rock star. Edgier than they had been, sure. Then he’d done a cover of a NIN song and it went viral. That had been that. “He was mostly acoustic then. Bigger than us. We were googly eyed.”
“Well, he’s hot. On the TV, anyway. Obviously I haven’t met him yet.”
Michael chuckled softly, the little twist in the pit of his belly proving he was way less blasé than he might sound. “Oh, he’s hot. TV or not.”
“Yeah?” Geoff gave him a knowing look. “He needs to sleep more.”
“No shit. I mean, I have insurance, but…” He didn’t want to buy a new truck. He liked his truck.
“That sucks, though. Obviously, you had no intention of reorganizing your whole life over the weekend, right?” God, Geoff was a good ear and could let a guy unload.
“Oh, I’m pretty good at it, right? With kids you have to.” He’d gone from musician to accountant. From husband to widower. From young to old overnight. The truck was just a vehicle—no more, no less.
“I guess so. I’m pretty lucky. As long as Ford and Stoney let me stay, all I have to do is come up with food.”
“And deal with crazy visitors like me, right?”
“Right.” Geoff winked, then got moving, dreads swaying. “I’ll make ice cream base. Keep me company?”
“I’ll even help.” He stood and stretched. “Point the way.”
“Cool. Come on, we’ll make a custard.” Geoff bumped hips with him, and he wished, not for the first time, that they had romantic chemistry.
They just didn’t.
Still, a man needed friends, and he had good ones here.
He started cracking eggs when Geoff snapped the whip, humming a song from the bad old days, one of Simon’s that Rhi had loved.
Crazy. He was losing his damn mind.
It didn’t matter.
It had been a long time since he felt all the way sane anyway.
Simon sat in the car once they got back to the ranch, trying to get the gumption to get up and go in. They’d made it back in plenty of time for…whatever the heck Stevie had planned tonight. He was badly bruised with a few strained things. Nothing cracked or anything.
Thank God.
He still wanted a nap.
“Why don’t you go in and rest, Bubba. I’ll stop in after the rehearsal and see if you need anything.”
“No! No, I need to be there. I mean, yes, I’ll rest, but I can come to the rehearsal. And ice cream thing after.” He was not going to fuck this up. He could do stoic.
“It�
��s okay. Mom and Dad’s flight is delayed. Jesse’s folks just got in to Aspen with his brother, and they’re tired, so they’re going to stay in town tonight and drive up in the morning. It’s just going to be me and Jess talking to the preacher.” She’d been on the phone nonstop the entire drive down and back.
Ford opened the door of the SUV and held one hand out to him. “Hey man. Let’s get you in and settled.” The muscle relaxants should be a miracle. The guy—because somehow he read too classy for cowboy—got him moving and helped Stevie get him to his cabin.
They stopped as Ford opened the door, and Stevie chewed on her bottom lip, staring at her phone. “I’m going to cancel the ice cream.”
“Oh, bummer.” Dammit. “Can they store it? I’d hate to waste it.”
Ford smiled gently at both of them. “We got it. No matter what you want to do.”
She shrugged. “Let’s get him settled down, huh? He’s tired.”
“You bet.” Ford helped ease him down on the super-comfy bed. “You need a nap, huh?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sorry, Stevie.”
She waved him off. “No worries. Get some rest. I’m going to check in with Jesse.”
“I love you.”
“You too.” She disappeared like a puff of smoke.
He glanced at Ford. “Thanks for all your help.”
“Anytime. Anytime at all. Do you need anything from the kitchen?”
“No. Not right now. I’m good.” He was so sleepy from the ride back up.
“Sleep well, then. Call if you need us.”
“Thanks. Maybe soon I can see some of the ranch.” He tried to laugh, but that was no bueno.
“Of course. Absolutely. Just breathe, man. Accidents happen.” Ford should have a TED talk on being the calmest son of a bitch on earth.
“I feel awful. Thanks, though.” Simon waved, because he could tell Ford wanted to be done.
Ford nodded, phone already out, and as the door closed, he heard, “Yeah. Yeah, he’s sore but fine. Starving. Love you too.”
He sighed. Man, he’d fucked up, and Stevie might not forgive him. She was really down, he could tell.
He’d have a quick lie-down, close his eyes, then be up and ready to celebrate. He wanted to be there for Stevie, and he wasn’t great at that, as much as he loved her.