Cowboy Take Me Away(155)
“You won’t listen to anyone, Dad. When was the last time Uncle Cal asked for your opinion on anything?”
Carson dismounted. “Am I supposed to be keepin’ track of that?” He sent his son a hard look. “Guess I don’t need to since you seem to be doin’ it for me.”
“I can tell you even your own brother says you’re bein’ a stubborn fool—just like your dad—about some of this stuff.”
“So you’re polling my brothers now? I’ll bet Casper weighed in heavily on the I’m an asshole side, didn’t he?”
Cord’s spurs jangled as he walked over to stand in front of Carson with his hands on his hips. “I think there are days when even Mom would be on that side.”
“Watch what you say or you might find yourself eatin’ dirt, boy. You may be younger, but I got a lot of fight left in me when it comes to people talkin’ shit. And that’s exactly what you’re doin’ right now.”
They glared at each other. They’d been snarling and snapping at each other for the better part of a year. Cord working around him. Undermining his authority. If they weren’t arguing about what type of grass to plant, they were arguing about the breeding program, the field rotation, land lease issues, what shoes to put on the horses and what color to repaint the barn. If there was something to have an opinion on, guaranteed Cord would have the opposite opinion of his father’s. It’d gotten tedious and the back and forth was getting them nowhere.
“Real nice, Dad. Real helpful.” Cord jabbed a finger at him. “You wanna know the truth? No one wants to work with you. Colby is off rodeoin’ because he’d rather be anywhere than stuck here under your thumb. Cam joined the service as soon as he graduated from high school because he’d rather get his ass shot off than get his ass chewed every fuckin’ day of his life by you. Carter is goin’ off to college and you can bet your ass he ain’t majoring in Ag management so he can return to the fold and help you out.”
“What about Colt? You left him off your roll call of people who wanna get the hell away from me and my stubborn ways.”
Cord snorted. “Colt gives a shit about two things: pussy and booze. He’ll be the obedient son doin’ whatever you say as long as ranching don’t interfere with his afterhours pursuits.”
Because Colt was easier to work with than Cord, it was also easier to ignore the similarities he saw between Colt and himself.
“I work my ass off. For years I’ve been tryin’ to prove I’m worthy of the almighty Carson McKay’s stamp of approval. But I’m never gonna get it. So I’m done.”
“Done what? Done for the day?”
“No, done for good. Jesus, Dad. Half the time you don’t even bother to listen to me. I think you suffer from old timer’s disease.”
“Old timer’s?” Incensed about the low blow, Carson snapped, “I’m fifty-two years old and a long goddamn ways from old timer’s. Just because what I tell you ain’t what you wanna hear don’t mean I’m some foolish old man rambling about nothin’.”
“Well you can ramble on to someone who gives a shit. As of tomorrow, that ain’t me. I’m gone.”
“Yeah? Where you goin’?”
“I’ll know when I get there. But it’ll be a long way from here.” Cord took off his gloves and threw them on the ground before he stormed off. Then his truck tires spit gravel as he tore off. Again.
Carson didn’t say anything. He just hung up his tack and brushed down his horse. Then to calm himself down and clear his head, he set about straightening the tack room. Carter popped in to let him know he’d finished chores.
He had no idea how long he’d been in the barn until Carolyn showed up. “You missed supper.”
“Sorry. Not really hungry.”
“Carson, honey, what’s going on? Keely tracked you down and said you were throwing stuff and swearing so she ran the other way.”
He said just one word: “Cord.”
“Ah. That’s why he took off like the hounds of hell were on his boot heels.”
“Yeah, well that fits since he all but called me the devil himself.”
That’s when she moved in and wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t say anything, she always knew what he needed, even just a simple touch. Immediately everything was better in his world.
She kissed the side of his neck and purred, “Mmm. Dust and sweat and cowboy. My favorite.”
“I’m a little more ripe than usual.” From angry sweat—not that he’d tell her that. Then again, she probably already knew.