Page 30 of Gotta Dig Deep
“I put a jug of sweet tea in the shed fridge this morning.” Picking her way to the four-wheeler, she swung aboard and twisted back to look at him. “Want a ride or hoofin’ it?”
With a rueful grin, Cooter shook his head. “I’ll meet you there. Give myself a minute to gather my thoughts.”
“You’re a good man, Cooter.” The machine came to life underneath her and Glenna swung it in a tight circle, noting movement on the road. Shouting over the engine noise, she gave him a wide smile. “I’d bet ya, but it’s not a fair race.” He lifted a hand and waved her off, giving Glenna the chance to escape. Wind ruffled through the tendrils of hair and threatened to lift the cap from her head. For a few moments, the only things she had to think about were rough ground and securing her headgear.
Before she was ready, the shed and stables loomed large in front of her and Glenna swept the machine in a wide circuit, visually verifying everything was ready for the transport she’d glimpsed turning off the highway onto the ranch’s drive.All is well, she thought as she backed the four-wheeler up to the shed and turned off the motor. Cooter was making good time, having covered about half the distance to the shed so Glenna ducked inside and filled several plastic cups with cold tea, emerging from the dimness of the barn into the brilliant sunshine with two of them just as he strode up.
He lifted a hand to his mouth as he reached for a cup of tea, giving a shrill two-fingered whistle to call the other men in. Glenna smiled and did the same, aiming for higher pitched and louder. As always, her competitiveness made Cooter laugh, which was her intention.
“Always got to get the last word in, doncha?” He drank deeply of the cold liquid, letting out a satisfied “Ahhh” as he smacked his lips. “it’s good, Glenna. Thanks.”
“You hear anything on what Jackson Snyder’s gonna do?” Glenna sipped her own cup, pointing the other men into the shed as they neared. “I’ve not caught wind of anything, but you and I both know he’s not suited for ranching.”
“Nothing. I figured he’d slap it up for sale the day after Chester passed, but not a thing so far.”
“I don’t know if I’d rather he keep it and run it in his half-assed way, or sell it. Depends on who he sells it to, I guess.” She huffed air at her sweat-plastered bangs. “My luck he’d sell it to a Dallas developer who’d carve it up into half-acre plots.”
“Your luck he’ll keep it and quit tending fence, lookin’ to get free servicing from that pissed-off bull of yours.” Cooter tipped his hat back. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Appreciate it.” She half turned to look at the other men. “Everything, and every one of you. Appreciate you all.” The rumble of a truck pulled their attention to the drive and Glenna gave a little whine as she sighed. “Well, the truck’s here. Time to get back to work.”
An hour later and the truck was loaded and ready, which meant by the time Cooter and the others left, the remaining cattle had been turned out into the pasture, leaving Glenna to head back to the house.
Alone.
Tonight she found the thought wasn’t as unwelcome as it had been, with the reality of Cooter’s unsolicited invitation hanging over her head. She kicked off her boots and surveyed the empty kitchen.
I should get a dog.
Chapter Nine
Horse
“No reason to expect anything other than advertised.” Blackie’s confidence projected through the phone, soothing emotions in a way Horse envied. “This is just another chapter in the FRMC saga. Ain’t no thang, boys. Ain’t no thang.”
Hundreds of miles away, nearly fifteen men were seated in a circle around a bonfire in the backwoods of the Florida panhandle, including Skyd from the Iron Riggers. Around the clearing, similar meetings were happening with the Rebel Wayfarers, Incoherent, Bama Bastards, and the Caddo Hobos. All the heavy hitters along the Gulf Coast were represented, with national and international presidents among the attendees.
Blackie had left out early this morning, riding for a long ten hours with Peaches on the queen seat, timing their arrival for mealtime. Randi was with Peaches’ dad, who wasn’t against getting some baby time.
According to Blackie’s report, Mason and Slate from the RWMC had been the first to greet them, since the meetings were taking place on property owned by one of their nomad members, Truck. He’d moved here to live with his woman, Vanna, someone who held a place of respect in the FRMC. She meant a very special something to every long-time member of the Mother chapter.Tangled threads.
“My proposal, depending on what Bane feels is right for him, is to spin up a FRMC chapter here.” Blackie’s statement was met with quiet murmurs.
“I thought you wanted to plant IRMC colors?” Skyd’s voice was known to Horse, and his comment was both a question and statement of fact, because it was what Blackie had been talking about most recently. “I’m cool either way, I just want to know my place in this mix.”
“More I gave thought to the issues of a charter so far away from the arms of Mother, more I realized it was likely easier to do a direct chapter. IRMC is a good club, and well balances the tightrope of support for FRMC while being its own entity. This way that particular challenge is mitigated. I won’t say we shouldn’t look at IRMC for a future expansion, but it seems to be smarter to pave the way with the patch that holds more sway.”
“Makes sense,” Horse offered, watching on the screen as sparks shot from the fire. “You think the other players will be open to the idea?”
“Bane is FRMC. I’m not letting that man go. He fought too hard to carry our patch, brothers. He belongs with us.” Blackie’s tone left no room for argument.
“True story.” Horse rubbed his knuckles. “Gotta respect a man who falls down ten times but gets up eleven.” He’d been the barrier to Bane’s membership. Blackie had heard rumblings of the man’s connections with a bad news family, and had wanted to ensure Bane was joining for the right reasons. Ten beatdowns in a row and still coming back to ask again had proven his dedication, and nothing in his membership since had said they’d been wrong to trust him. Even if that problematic family was the founding member of the MDMC, who’d escaped the arms of Fury’s retribution.More tangled threads.
Right now, Bane was on a run up to Kentucky with Gunny, a high-ranking RWMC officer, and the general consensus was Bane would be staying in the Florida panhandle for the foreseeable future. Thus the need for figuring out a way for him to keep his patch.
“Would mean he’d move up in the ranks.” Horse offered something he knew Blackie would have already thought about. “If any man’s earned it, it’s Bane.”
“Truth. But I’d like to hear from his own mouth what’s comin’ down. Expectation is he’ll stay here, but the man could surprise us all.” Blackie stood, planting fists against his low back as he stretched muscles apparently sore from the long ride.
