Wild Ride Cowboy

Of all the hipster bullshit.

“Where have you been?”

Alex’s older half brother Cain was walking toward the main house, probably heading down from the little converted barn he lived in with his fiancée, Alison, and his teen daughter, Violet.

“Busy,” Alex responded.

“Well, considering you didn’t just follow that up with sexual innuendo, I’m going to go ahead and guess that you were actually taking care of that property you’ve been needing to see to.”

“Not that it’s your business, but yes.” There was no reason for him to be short with Cain. But since his older brother was an extreme hard-ass and didn’t seem to care, Alex didn’t see a reason not to be.

“Good,” Cain said. “About time for you to man up.”

“Thanks. Next time I need your opinion on my masculinity, I’ll ask. Right after I finish polishing my dog tags and disassembling my AR.”

“We could save time and you could just whip it out and measure, Alex. I’m not threatened by that.”

“What are we measuring?” Finn, Alex’s other older half brother, chose that moment to walk out the front door.

“What do you think?” Alex asked.

“Wow. Okay. I think I’ll pass on this brotherly bonding experience,” Finn responded, clearly picking up on the tone of the conversation without further hints.

“You weren’t invited,” Alex said cheerfully. “And I’m starving.”

“You’re in luck. Lane cooked.”

Finn’s fiancée usually did cook. She owned the specialty food mercantile on the main street in town, and had a passion for not only spreading good food around, but for elevating the eating experience of the Donnelly brothers—or at least trying to.

If she had seen what Clara was eating tonight, she probably would have force-fed her some kind of specialty cheese.

Alex walked up the steps with Cain behind him. Then the three of them filed into the house. Whatever Lane was cooking, Alex could smell it already. Something warm and comforting. Something that smelled like home. Not Alex’s childhood home, but the way he had imagined other people’s homes had smelled.

Or maybe, it smelled like this home. This was the longest he’d been in one place for a long damn time.

It was strange just how easy it had been to get used to it. Living here with so many people. When he walked into the kitchen, Liam was there already, the only brother he’d been raised with. He was sitting at the counter, making conversation with their niece, Violet. Or rather, he had a feeling Liam was doing his best to harass Violet, since she was looking mildly perturbed and more than a little amused.

Cain’s fiancée, Alison, was busy cooking with Lane, both women wearing aprons as they dashed around the kitchen. It was like Alex had fallen into some kind of manic 1950s dream.

Violet, who was sixteen and more than a little surly, grabbed a potato chip out of the bowl that was sitting on the island and crunched it noisily.

“This is bad for feminism,” she announced, talking around a mouthful of chip.

“How so, Violet?” Lane asked, turning and putting one hand on her hip.

“Cooking for the men,” she returned.

“Maybe if we were doing it out of obligation, but Lane and I like to cook,” Alison said. “In fact, our chosen careers center around food.”

“Mmm,” Violet made a musing sound.

“I cook,” Lane said, lifting a brow, “your uncle Finn does the dishes, which I don’t like to do, and it works for everyone. But most importantly...”

“We choose to do it,” Alison finished.

“I choose to sit and eat potato chips,” Violet said, clearly also choosing to remain unmoved on her position. And unmoved in general.

“I’ll help,” Liam offered, standing up and slapping the countertop.

“You absolutely will not,” Lane said, turning around and pointing her spatula at him. “I haven’t forgotten the great over-salting incident that happened last time you helped.”

“I’ll help by sitting here,” he said, grabbing a chip out of the bowl.

“Smells good,” Alex said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks,” Lane returned.

“Where have you been?” This time, it was Liam who asked the question.

“It’s really touching how concerned you all are about my whereabouts,” Alex responded.

“I wasn’t concerned, jackass. I was mad because you got out of doing your evening chores.”

“Wow, Liam. Maybe you should tell me about your childhood.” Alex leaned in and stole a chip. “You seem to have some issues.”

“You were there for my childhood. That’s possibly why I have issues.”

Alex snorted. “I’m pretty sure our dad is the reason we both have issues.”

Finn snorted. “I think he’s the reason we all have issues.”

Their father had done one thing well—made children he wasn’t particularly interested in raising. Cain and Finn had different mothers, with Cain being raised in Texas and Finn in Washington. Though Finn had come to live on the Laughing Irish ranch with their grandfather when he was only sixteen.

Liam and Alex had grown up with their mother in a different part of Washington than Finn, and had spent sporadic summers in Copper Ridge.

Until recently, the half brothers had all spent a limited amount of time together. Though, truth be told Alex and Liam hadn’t spent all that much time together either, since Liam had left home at eighteen.

As soon as he could, Liam had gone off to school. And he didn’t return home. Two years later, Alex had enlisted in the military, and he’d done the same—left it all behind.

Liam had gotten a scholarship that had paid his way through, and as far as Alex knew, was the only one of them to get any kind of higher education. Liam didn’t talk about it much though. He never had. And whatever work he had gotten into afterward, he wasn’t doing it now.

Damn. They really were dysfunctional.

“So, what were you doing?” Liam asked, clearly not content to let the subject drop.

“I had to go and handle that property I’m responsible for,” he said, “like I told you guys a month or so ago.”

“What’s the situation with that?” Finn was the one who posed that question, and Alex wasn’t particularly surprised. His brother would need to know how it would impact the work that was happening around the ranch. They were all part owners of the Laughing Irish now, but Finn had bled for this place since he was a teenager.