Page 136 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

It had big, exposed beams, wide plank floors, a stone fireplace, built-in shelves full of books, framed photographs, and several random trophies and awards.

The kitchen was at the back of the house, huge and warm, with two refrigerators, an oversized range, a long breakfast bar and windows overlooking the pastures.

The delicious aromas made his stomach growl.

Bull’s father sat at the breakfast bar reading an actual newspaper, glasses low on his nose, one hand wrapped around a chipped coffee mug. He had Bull’s jaw, his intelligent eyes, and the same calm, weathered authority.

At the counter, Amelia—Bull’s cook, housekeeper, and self-designated mother— chopped cucumbers while grumbling at a talk show playing on her little television on the island.

She was petite, with a cute, round faced, sun-kissed skin, and eyes that missed nothing. She wore her thick gray hair in a neat bun sitting high on top her head, but by the end of the day, more than a few tendrils had fallen loose.

“Hey, you guys remember my brother, Corbin Sydney? He’s gonna hang out here and let this good ranch living heal his wounded soul,” Fox said, reaching toward a basket of hot rolls sitting in a warmer.

The wooden spoon Amelia yanked from her apron flew through the air and cracked Fox in the back of his head so fast Syn barely saw it.

“Ow!” Fox yelled.

“Get outta my kitchen when you haven’t washed your hands,” Amelia snapped. “You know better. Don’t try to show off because you have a friend here.”

Syn laughed…again.

Fox his head. “I did wash my hands.”

“In the stable sink. That don’t count in my kitchen.”

Bull’s father turned one page of his newspaper without glancing up. “Hard head makes a soft ass, boy. Don’t know why you still ain’t learned this lesson.”

Fox wrapped his arm around Amelia’s shoulders. “Don’t let her mean right arm fool you, Syn. She’s sweet on me.”

He pulled her in and kissed her long and hard on the cheek.

Amelia squealed, swatting at him while trying not to laugh. “Boy, if you don’t get off me…”

Fox dodged the next blow, kissing her other cheek.

Amelia smiled at him. “You’re more than welcome, Corbin, for as long as you want. Now, Fox, go on and grab you two a couple cold beers and get on the porch with all that silliness. And since we have such handsome company, tell Bull be on time for dinner or else.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Fox said as he scrubbed his hands at the sink.

He grabbed two beers from the smaller fridge and led Syn outside to the shaded back porch.

It was almost six, the hard heat of the day beginning to ease into something more manageable.

The deep porch wrapped around the side of the house, with ceiling fans turning overhead and a comforting view of the endless fields.

They sat in two heavy wooden chairs near the railing, boots propped up, beers sweating in their hands.

For a while, they didn’t talk. It was as if the ranch had respect for his need of silence.

Syn finished his beer and Fox got up without a word and brought back two more.

When he sat back down, Syn stared at the label for a long moment, then sighed.

“So we gonna address the elephant in the room?”

Fox took a slow drink. “We got Clydesdales, cows, and some pretty oversized alpacas, but no elephants, brother.”

Syn barked a startled laugh…he’d already done that several times today.