Bang the Blower (Country Roads 3)

The next morning, Frank was out at the paddock. He leaned over the fence as he watched the horses frolicking in the field.

“Frank!” she called out as she ran toward him. “What are you doing here?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want any sass from you. I asked Duke to help me jump bail.”

“Frank, you weren’t in jail.”

He pressed his fingertips to his lips and said, “Shh, don’t tell that to my doctor. By the time Duke was finished with him, he wasn’t sure which one of us was crazy.”

“I doubt Duke was that convincing.” A silence lingered between them and she added, “Wait until I get my hands on that man. Look at you, Frank. You don’t have the energy to be out here right now. You’re not fully recovered.”

“I’m okay, little girl.”

“I don’t know what Duke was thinking.”

Frank arched a brow. “The doc thought he was persuasive, and he promised to keep an eye on me. I reckon he has a way with words when he’s determined to get his way.”

She smiled. “Okay. Point taken. Still, I thought the doctors wanted you to stay for observation.”

“I bled a lot because I take an aspirin a day and the damn pill thins my blood. That bullet barely grazed my skin.”

“I saw the hole in your side, Frank. It did a little more than scrape the outer layers.”

&nb

sp; “Hush about that,” he said, looping his arm through hers.

“I’ll be quiet for now, but you’re gonna take better care of yourself. I swear I’ll drive you back to the hospital myself if ya don’t.”

Frank leaned against the fence again and studied the horses. She stood beside him as she often did as a child, remembering the days when she used to stand at similar places and just watch the animals. “We’ll study on ’em for a bit,” she said.

Frank smiled and nodded. “You’re right. We will.”

She grinned. “That’s what you used to say to me.”

“I’m old, but I’ve still got my mind, little girl. I know damn good and well what we used to say to one another. Got them conversations stored to memory for safekeepin’ on the chance I don’t recall things like I should sometime in the future.”

She thought about that for a moment. Was Frank afraid he might be in the early stages of Alzheimer’s? Was he sick and just didn’t know how to tell her? As she debated on how to approach the subject, Frank shifted his weight from one foot to the next, stuffing his hands in his pockets like he had something on his mind and just didn’t quite know how to bring it up.

“Frank…”

“I loved your mother and she loved me,” Frank blurted out.

She smiled at the confession. Sometimes Frank worried about the oddest things.

“I reckon you had a right to know,” he said. “There now. You know. Ain’t nothing to discuss. Ain’t nothing to tell. I just didn’t want you to think that we were some kind of dirty little secret.”

“I knew that, Frank.”

“How would you know something like that? I reckon you wouldn’t remember me coming over to dinner when your daddy was out of town.”

She swallowed hard and watched the old man’s hands tremble. Placing her hand over his, she said, “Frank, you really have been like a father to me. I know in my heart that if my father had lived, he probably wouldn’t have given us the chance to get to know one another. What a great catastrophe that would’ve been if I couldn’t have lived my life with you by my side.”

“I reckon that’s right by me, too.”

“I reckon it is,” she drawled, starting toward the barn.

“Julie.” Hearing Frank say her name stopped her. She turned around and waited, ready to listen to whatever words of wisdom he wanted shared. He pointed toward the mare he’d just purchased and said, “You wanna know how come you were always able to ride these crazy horses?”