Cowboy Take Me Away Part 54

Carson was pretty sure he'd never run that fast in his life.

By the time he reached Carter, the boy was wailing. And Carson knew why; his left arm was at the wrong angle.

f.u.c.k. Carolyn was gonna kill him.

Colt and Cam were shouting, Keely was blubbering about her horse, and a wide-eyed Carter, obviously in shock, tried to squirm away.

"Son. You gotta stay still."

"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!"

That sad, pain-filled voice sliced through him. "Ssh. I know. We'll get you fixed up, I promise."

Cord and Colby both rushed over.

"Holy f.u.c.kin' s.h.i.t," Cord said. "It's broke, ain't it?"

"Yeah. We'll have to take him into town. Cord, the keys are in the truck. Go get it and bring it around so we can get everyone loaded up here."

"We're all goin'?" Colby said.

"No choice. Now get them horses dealt with so we can go."

Colby took off.

Fifteen minutes later they were on their way into Sundance, with Cord driving and Carter on Carson's lap, curled into him. It was the quietest he'd heard the kids.

Not that it'd last.

Six kids in the hospital for over two hours? The staff was happy to see the a.s.s end of them.

Too het up to worry about cooking, Carson had Cord stop at the grocery store and sent him in to buy frozen pizzas.

Glancing down at Carter pa.s.sed out on his lap, he realized the pain meds had kicked in. He smoothed the boy's hair back, grateful the injury hadn't been worse. He noticed Carter clutched the black marker in his fist so his brothers could sign his cast.

Back at the ranch, Carter didn't move when Carson carried him into the house and situated him on his bed.

By the time he returned to the kitchen, the boys had opened all ten frozen pizzas. No doubt they'd devour them without tasting them.

He went straight for the whiskey.

Keely refused to eat pizza so he gave her applesauce and cottage cheese-most of which ended up in her hair, which required a bath. In the tub she leapt up and smacked her forehead into the soap dish, leaving a mini goose egg that would likely be a hideous shade of black and blue by the time Carolyn came home.

He just had to survive the next two days. The worst of it had to be over.

Didn't it?

Day four Carson ended up serving cookies for breakfast since they were out of breakfast food.

"What happened to all the cereal? There were five boxes when your mother left."

"We ate 'em when we got hungry," Colby said.

Which seemed to be all the d.a.m.n time. Feeding these boys was a fulltime job itself.

Carson did a quick head count. Carter sleeping upstairs. Cord-in the bathroom again-Colby here, Keely here. "Where are your brothers?"

Colby's eyes were glued to the back of the empty cereal box. "Haven't seen them."

"At all?"

"I saw them when I was comin' out of the bathroom this mornin'," Cord offered as he strolled in.

"When?"

"Like seven."

That was an hour ago. "What were they doin'?"

"Didn't ask."

Two hours later, just as Carson was ready to call the sheriff, Colt and Cam ambled up the driveway like Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, fishing poles slung over their shoulders and carrying buckets.

"Where in the h.e.l.l have you boys been?"

"Fishin'!" Colt said with pride.

"You didn't think to tell anyone where you were goin' at seven o'clock in the d.a.m.n mornin'? You just took off?"

"We wanted to surprise you and catch fish for breakfast since we don't got no food."

Carson tried to remain calm and not thrash the c.r.a.p out of them. Where the h.e.l.l had they thought they'd catch fish around here? The stock dam?

"But we didn't catch nothin'," Cam said, dejected.

"That's cause you don't even know how to cast a line," Colt scoffed.

"Do too!"

"Do not," Colt mimicked.

Cam stopped. Holding his pole with both hands, he yelled, "Do too! Watch this!" Then he started wildly waving his pole around and let the fishing line fly. "Hey. Where'd it go?" He spun the reel and jerked on the line hard.

Colt screamed and bent over.

For the fifteen seconds it took Carson to reach Colt's side, he feared Cam had hooked Colt in the eye. He said, "Where'd it get you?"

"My leg!"

"Which leg? Son, stand up so I can see it."

When Colt straightened, Carson saw the hook imbedded in the back of Colt's calf, deep enough to have threaded through the skin in two places. It'd gouged out a chunk of flesh before it'd caught. This was beyond him being able to yank the d.a.m.n thing out with a pair of pliers.

f.u.c.k. Looked like he'd be making another G.o.dd.a.m.ned visit to the emergency room.

Carson took out his pocket knife and said, "Hold still."

"Dad! It ain't that bad! Don't cut off his leg!" Cam yelled.

"For the love of G.o.d, Cameron. I ain't gonna cut off his leg. I'm cuttin' the fishin' line."

"Oh."

"Can you get the hook out?" Colt asked, craning his neck around to gauge the damage.

"'Fraid not. Gonna hafta take you to town."

Cam had dropped the pole and crouched to check it out. "Well, it don't look that bad. Ain't hardly bleeding at all. With how loud you screamed like a girl I thought I'd see the hook stuck in the bone and blood gushing everywhere."

Colt spun around and punched Cam in the eye, knocking him on his a.s.s. "Ain't that bad? How'd you like it if-" he growled and lunged.

Carson was quick enough to stop Colt from pouncing on Cam, who was now holding his face and wailing. "Knock it the h.e.l.l off, both of you. This is getting f.u.c.kin' ridiculous."

"What's goin' on? We heard screamin'."

Cord and Colby-holding Keely-stopped five feet from where Cam was curled into a ball. And Colt was bleeding.

"Colt has a fishin' hook stuck in his calf, so I'm taking him to the hospital. You all stay here. And stay in the d.a.m.n house." He rested on his haunches in front of Cam. "Lemme see."

"I think he popped my eyeball."

Mr. Dramatic. The kid should be an actor. "Then you'd better let me look at it so I know whether I'll need to take you to town with us."

Cam moved his hand.

Carson sucked in a sharp breath. Already swollen. The kid would have one h.e.l.luva shiner. "Can you see?"

"Sorta."

"Put something cold on it." He addressed his oldest sons. "Watch TV or something until we get back. If your mother calls, not a word about us bein' at the hospital, got it?"

"Yes sir."

He gestured to the poles and buckets. "Get this stuff put away." Then to Colt he said, "Stay put. I'll get the truck." He checked to make sure he had his wallet. In fifteen years with six kids they'd been to the ER once. Once. The first time he's left alone with the kids? He was on his second trip in less than twenty-four hours.

Yeah, his wife was gonna lose her mind.

Cord rapped on the driver's side window.

"What?"

"Probably better stop at the store while you're in town since there's nothin' to eat around here."

Colt ended up with four st.i.tches but it'd taken the doctor longer than he expected to remove the hook. After the doc had cleaned the area, and Carson had seen the level of grime on Colt's skin, he swore that kid was taking a shower if he had to hose him down himself.

At the grocery store he'd ended up with a cartful of food-all quick, all junk, all of which would make his sons happy.

Luckily there wasn't big trauma at home. Things were somewhat normal except for Carter being loopy from his pain meds. Keely had crashed, face down on her stuffed animal in the middle of the living room floor-but at least she was napping. Cam had a bag of frozen peas on his face. Colby was sprawled out on the couch. Cord was in the bathroom. Again.

That's when Carson realized it was d.a.m.n near two o'clock and he hadn't checked cattle. How the h.e.l.l had he forgotten? Now he had to feed the horde before he could feed the herd.

Lunch was eight cans of Spaghettios, a dozen hot dogs, two bags of barbecue-flavored potato chips, a box of Twinkies-all washed down with a gallon and a half of chocolate milk.

As soon as he chucked the paper plates from lunch, he wandered into the living room. "I need to check cattle."

Cord sighed and stood.

Carson shook his head. "You're in charge...and hold off on your bathroom visits until we get back."

Cord's face turned bright red.

He pointed to Colby. "You're up. Let's go."

Despite the gusts of wind that sent the cattle looking for shelter, they finished an hour and a half later. Colby hopped out to open the last gate, Carson drove through and waited, watching in the rearview mirror like he always did to make sure the gate actually got shut.

That's when a gust of wind shook the truck and he watched as the wind caught the gate, slamming Colby's hand between the gate and the post.

Carson bailed out of the truck and barely stopped the gate from smacking into Colby again as he rested on his knees, cradling his arm.

"f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k," Colby yelled. "That f.u.c.kin' stupid f.u.c.kin' gate."

"How bad is it?"

"I don't know."

"Can you move it?"

Colby shook his head.

"Come on." Carson opened the pa.s.senger side and helped Colby in before he went back and secured the gate.

After he'd climbed in the truck, he saw Colby's tears before he tried to blink them away. This kid never cried. Not even as a baby, so he must be hurting bad. "Show me."

Wincing, he moved his left arm.

Carson's stomach bottomed out, seeing that Colby's right hand had already swelled and was turning red and purple. A long raised welt had darkened on the center of his forearm. "Christ, kid. How are you not screamin'? That f.u.c.ker looks painful."

"I didn't..."