“G’night, Uncle G.”
“See you in the morning, buddy.” Graham leaned down and gave him a hug before picking up the card table and leaving the barn.
“Okay, sleepy boy.” Zinnia had fetched Smokey and she held out her hand to Tex. “Smokey’s ready to bed down.”
“I gots to stay up, Mommy.” Tex climbed on his stool. “Me and Mister Monty, we’re keeping watch.”
Impressive. The kid was yawning and rubbing his eyes, but he’d do his duty. That kind of grit would serve him well in the future.
But in the present, it created a problem. A five-year-old needed sleep.
They needed a reset. “I forgot to explain how this deal works, sport. When you have two cowboys watching over the herd at night, you take turns. I’ll handle the first shift. You need to rest up for the second shift.”
“Oh.” He looked relieved. Climbing back down, he walked over to his mom. “Smokey and me are on second shift. That’s how it works.”
“I see.” She handed him the bear and lifted her head to mouth a silent thank you.
He responded with a nod. Then he checked the time on his phone. He’d grab this opportunity to take Speckles’ temp and give her a quick exam. The foal’s exam could wait until morning.
As he entered the stall, Speckles gave him a glance and went back to munching from her hay net. Evidently he’d earned her trust. She continued eating as he took her temperature and checked for any damage to her tissues from the birth. Nothing major.
Her foal wasn’t as trusting and stayed well out of reach. He clearly remembered the man who’d delivered the sting of disinfectant to his navel.
“I know, little one,” he murmured. “You’ll forgive me eventually. You don’t want to hear that it was for your own good, but—” He paused. Was Zinnia singing?
Yes. And Tex was joining in on the chorus of a Kenny Rogers classic, The Gambler. He chuckled. Not your usual lullaby, but then Tex wasn’t your usual five-year-old.
Good song. Great lyrics. Excellent advice. He’d do well to keep it in mind.
The song ended. Giving Speckles a pat, he left the stall, making as little noise as possible opening and closing the door. At five, his sister Greta had been able to sleep through anything.
He’d never had that ability. Was still a light sleeper. As a baby, or so he’d been told, he wouldn’t conk out unless he was in a moving vehicle. Must be true, because he still got drowsy driving at night. Had to blast the radio to stay awake.
He settled down on a hay bale to wait. Would he and Zinnia have that talk? Probably didn’t need to. Graham’s comments indicated they were already on the same page.
The whisper of her footsteps brought his head up.
“He’s out. He’s had a long day, so I doubt he’ll wake up. You shouldn’t have any problems.”
“That’s good.” He got to his feet. “All’s well in the stall. Should be a quiet night, then.” His crazy heart was thumping so loud he was afraid she could hear it.
“I assume you’re not going to wake him up to take his shift.”
“Certainly not in the middle of the night.” He sounded so calm. Could she tell he was forcing himself to stay planted in this spot, maintaining a safe distance? “But I could wake him up while it’s still dark so he can take the last hour before dawn. That way he’ll feel like he did his job.”
“He’ll like that. By the way, thanks for your response to Smokey. I knew you wouldn’t make fun of him, but I wasn’t sure how you’d handle it without lying.”
“I’ve never taken a poll. For all we know, lots of cowboys take teddy bears to bed with them.”
She smiled. “Do you?”
“I used to. I still have Fozzy on a shelf in my bedroom, just in case life gets scary.”
“Which house is yours?” Then her cheeks turned pink. “Not that it matters. I was just?—”
“I’m in my Grandma Doris’s gingerbread cottage. Fozzy fits right in.” So would she, if she cared to pay him a visit.
“And she’s living in the fuchsia bunkhouse now?”
