Page 72 of Rocky Mountain Devil
“Want to drive?” he asked Lance.
The kid’s eyes lit up. “Don’t have my learner’s yet.”
Rafe pushed open the driver’s door and climbed down. “Then you need practice, don’t you?”
Lance swallowed hard then eagerly got behind the wheel.
Nathan was up on the back bumper with a leg over the tailgate before Rafe stopped him. “Sorry, bud. In the cab, with your seatbelt on.”
He got a massive eye roll in response. “You’re not serious? That’s so lame. We’re on the driveway.”
“Not lame,” Rafe assured him, “It’s called self-preservation. Your father would take me apart if he found out I let you do stupid shit on my watch.”
“My dad’s not scary.” Nathan gave him a dirty look, teenage attitude dripping from every word. “He won’t mind. He doesn’t make stupid rules.”
He didn’t have time for this. Rafe shrugged. “Have it your way.”
He got in the cab, locking the doors before Nathan could get in.
Lance glanced over, hands clutching the wheel at ten and two. “You letting him ride in the back?”
“Hell, no.” Rafe rolled down the window. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned Nathan who had one hand on the side of the truck box as if he was about to jump over the edge. “You can walk. We’ll meet you at the far barn, and if you plan to have more trouble with your hearing around me, you can sit yourself down outside and wait for your ‘not scary’ dad to come pick you up early. I’ll be happy to call him.”
Nathan snatched his hand off the truck and backed up rapidly, all trace of rebellion washed away. “You don’t have to do that.”
Rafe closed the window and motioned for Lance to drive, hiding his amusement best he could. His cousin Daniel was a great dad—Nathan wasn’t scared of him in a bad way, but he obviously had a healthy amount of respect for the man.
Which is what Rafe desperately wished he felt for his own father.
He shoved his frustrations down as Nathan got smaller in the background. “When can you take your test?”
Lance’s focus on the gravel road never faltered as he drove far slower than necessary. “I’m fourteen in November, but my mom’s making noises about me waiting until the spring.”
“Let me guess. She doesn’t want you driving in the snow?”
Lance sighed, the noise rattling around the cab with the kind of long-suffering intensity only a teenage boy could put into it. “Yeah.”
“I get it. I wonder if she’s nervous because of her accident. She was hurt pretty bad, wasn’t she?”
Lance was quiet for a minute. “I’d forgotten about that.”
Because teenage worlds revolved around a small radius.
“Well, whatever you and your parents decide, there’re always vehicles on the ranch if you want to practice driving in bad conditions. On Coleman land—off the main roads.” Rafe held back a laugh, keeping as straight-faced as possible. “If we have a big snowfall, maybe you can help clear.”
“Can I?” Lance blurted eagerly.
This must have been what Tom Sawyer felt like. “Well, it’s a pretty big machine, the tractor with the blade, but I bet you could handle it. I’ll ask your dad.”
“Sweet.”
They were pulling up to the side of the barn. Rafe pointed to where he wanted Lance to park, then sent him on ahead to get started on the stalls.
He waited for Nathan to join him, ignoring what had happened minutes earlier. “You interested in some digging?”
Nathan made a face, but didn’t grumble out loud. “I guess.”
“I need a pretty deep hole. You’ll have to use the backhoe.”
