Page 67 of The Cowboy's Bullfighter
“Guys.” Coop looked at Johnny and Mason. “Santa Claus is watching you, and so am I. Mason, Uncle Brooks is making you more eggs. Johnny, finish youreggs and go wash your hands so that you can make cookies. Mina, I will talk to you and Johnny both about piano lessons.”
The three eldest were very quiet. Very.
That was real peaceful, he had to admit. He grinned, serving up eggs. If he let them serve themselves, the older ones would take everything and leave nothing for the littles.
They all ate, and then there was a mass exodus to the kitchen to wash up so they could make the last batches of cookies.
“You going to be around this afternoon?” Coop asked him.
“Uh… Yeah.” Where else was he going to be? But he wasn’t going to ask that, because Coop was so elaborately casual that he had to be up to something.
“Cool. I’ve got a delivery coming, and I’ll need help.”
“I’ll be here.” He grinned, because Coop was looking anywhere but at him.
“Thanks. Holler if you need me in there.”
“Will do.”
The morning flew by, all the kids, and finally even Coop helping with the cookies, and by the time they’d frosted the last batch, he heard the rattle of a trailer in the yard.
“If that’s a piano,” he murmured to Coop.
“Nope. Come on. Bundle up.”
“Okay.” He hauled on his shirt jacket, his coat, his boots, and a hat and gloves. It was bitter out there.
The trailer was a fancy, climate-controlled rig, and it was big enough for four animals. He’d driven one like it a lot in Australia.
“What’s this, babe?” he asked Coop.
“Something for you.” Coop’s little grin made him tilt his head.
“Something for me?” He watched as the driver hopped up and grabbed a clipboard out of his cab.
“Hey. Mr. Adams?”
“That’s me,” Coop said.
“Well, here’s the delivery you asked for.” The guy winked broadly. “If you can sign, and then show me where to unload?”
“Brooks, where do you want them to go?”
“‘Them’ who?”
“The horses.”
He blinked, trying to figure out what Coop meant. “You get more horses for the kids?”
“Hmmm? No. These are for you.” Coop signed the form on the sheet. “Why don’t you hop in the truck and tell him which barn to go to. You just finished up the quarantine, right?”
“Uh-huh?” He did as Coop asked, climbing up next to the driver. “So, it’s just up there. The smaller of the two left-side barns.”
“Cool.” They eased into motion, the guy driving up to the barn.
“So, uh, what is this?”
“Couple of horses. I’ll let Mr. Adams tell you about it.”
