Page 55 of His Brown-Eyed Girl

“Luke, I don’t know when I can come home.”

“I can work from here,” he said, wishing it were true but knowing that with Charlotte out of school every afternoon this week the chances were slim.

“DeeAnn’s going to be pissed. I’ll have to give her a little money for her trouble.”

“Maybe that was her main motivation.”

“She’s not bad. I wouldn’t ask her if she was,” Courtney said, sounding defensive.

“Don’t worry, I’ll cover it. I’m the one being difficult.”

Silence sat on the phone for a few seconds before Courtney asked, “What’s your motivation?”

He glanced over at Chris who held a writhing Mittens out from his body with two hands as he walked toward the door. And then at Charlotte who had nearly fallen asleep against his chest, making smears of red on his clean white shirt. “I’m a glutton for punishment?”

Silence hung on the line again. Then she said, “Okay. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” And he actually meant it.

He ended the call just as the back door slammed shut and scooped a sleepy Charlotte into his arms. “Okay, kiddos. You’re stuck with the mean old giant for a little bit longer.”

Chris whipped his head around, withdrawing his hand from the candy jar, spilling jellybeans onto the kitchen floor. “Wait. You’re really a giant?”

He gave the kid a flat stare.

“Oh, right.” Chris stooped and started glomming jellybeans off the floor.

Lucas caught Kermit who must have heard a piece of food hit the floor and hauled him out the back door. “Go play with Mittens.

Seconds later, Lucas pushed back through the swinging kitchen door to find loud voices coming from the family room.

I said get the hell outta my bag, kid,” Joe said in a loud voice—a voice full of menace.

“This proves exactly what I was talking about. You’re not staying here with my brother and sister. No freakin’ way.” Michael’s voice sounded shrill and panicky.

“Hey, just put it back, Mikey. It’s no big deal. Really.” This from DeeAnn.

“I’m showing Lucas. I can’t believe Mom would let you take care of us.”

“Give me it, you little shit,” Joe yelled, and Lucas heard the sound of heavy footfalls advance.

Lucas emerged right as Joe lunged toward Michael. The teen feinted to the left and spun right instead, but Joe still managed to grab him by the sleeve.

“Hey. Cut it out,” Lucas said, setting Charlotte on the floor and striding toward where Joe and Michael struggled over a bag of… marijuana?

Jesus.

Michael pushed against Joe, struggling to hold the plastic bag away from the man who once again lunged toward it. Joe managed to shove the boy, making him clip the coffee table and tumble onto the floor. The fireplace tools sounded like a gunshot as they crashed to the marble hearth.

Lucas grabbed Joe by the collar of his shirt and spun him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The smaller man drew back his fist and let it fly, catching Lucas on the jaw, snapping his head back.

Eh. Not bad for a flea.

Lucas didn’t release his hold on the man and ducked as the next punch flew his way.

If Lucas had less control, he’d have wiped the floor with Joe, but two impressionable children watched. So instead Lucas shook the man twice before tossing him onto the sofa as easily as he tossed bags of feed on the ranch.

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