“If I could take away your dicks and give them back to you when you’re old enough to use them responsibly, I would. But since that ain’t an option…”
His sons looked at each other with relief, not like they’d gotten away with something.
“As far as the other shit you’re doin’?” He leveled his gaze on Colt. “If I ever catch you drivin’ faster than the speed limit, you’ll be walkin’ everywhere for at least a month, understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Carson’s gaze moved to Colby. “I told you no bull ridin’. Period. And that I’d consider lettin’ you try it when you were eighteen. Until that birthday rolls around, I’d better never hear of you goin’ against this rule I set. Never.”
“Sorry, Dad. It won’t happen again.”
“Now go apologize to your mother and ask her if she needs help with anything.”
They bolted so fast they tipped the bench over.
Carson reached for the flask in his bottom desk drawer. Good thing he had a few years before he had to have this same talk with Cam and Carter.
But no way, no how was he ever having this talk with Keely.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Hospital, Day 5—morning
He had a bad case of indigestion. Not a good way to start the day. But that’s what he got for trying to eat something healthy; eggs and toast and fruit gifted him with heartburn.
He should’ve stuck to eating cookies. But he was actually tired of cookies. He swore he heard Carolyn’s phantom laughter in his head.
The doctors had checked on Carolyn first thing this morning. No change. No plans to ease her out of the coma. They decided she’d “benefit” from two more days in stasis.
That really increased the churning in his gut.
Pacing hadn’t helped.
Neither had catching up on world news on TV. If anything that’d turned his stomach a little more.
The nurses let him use the private shower and steam room on this floor. Ten minutes of hot water pounding down on him and slipping on a fresh pair of clothes made him feel better.
He returned to the ICU waiting room to find his grandson Ky hanging around.
“Hey, Grandpa. I wondered where you’d disappeared to.”
Carson ran a hand through his damp hair. “Cleaning myself up so your Aunt Channing doesn’t come back and hose me down like we used to have to do with your Uncle Colt when he was a boy.”
“Uncle Colt? Really? Man, he’s always like…so clean. Cleaner than anyone else, even when he’s workin’ cattle.”
“Times change.” He dropped into his chair. “So what’s up?”
“Dad said I was supposed to tell you that me’n Anton and Gib are looking after your horse.”
“I appreciate that. I’m sure your Gran-gran would say the same.” As much as it pained him to admit, he’d have to get rid of Sheridan. That mare deserved an owner who could give her the care she deserved and that hadn’t been him in the last year. Plus, he couldn’t look at the horse without thinking of the accident.
Kyler shifted his sneakered feet and glanced at the closed hospital door. Carson couldn’t count the number of times he’d heard the words “spitting image” used to describe a father and son, but Ky was such a carbon copy of Cord—at least in looks—that even he’d mistakenly called the kid Cord a time or ten.