Cord’s face turned bright red.
He pointed to Colby. “You’re up. Let’s go.”
Despite the gusts of wind that sent the cattle looking for shelter, they finished an hour and a half later. Colby hopped out to open the last gate, Carson drove through and waited, watching in the rearview mirror like he always did to make sure the gate actually got shut.
That’s when a gust of wind shook the truck and he watched as the wind caught the gate, slamming Colby’s hand between the gate and the post.
Carson bailed out of the truck and barely stopped the gate from smacking into Colby again as he rested on his knees, cradling his arm.
“Fuck, f**k, f**k, f**k,” Colby yelled. “That f**kin’ stupid f**kin’ gate.”
“How bad is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you move it?”
Colby shook his head.
“Come on.” Carson opened the passenger side and helped Colby in before he went back and secured the gate.
After he’d climbed in the truck, he saw Colby’s tears before he tried to blink them away. This kid never cried. Not even as a baby, so he must be hurting bad. “Show me.”
Wincing, he moved his left arm.
Carson’s stomach bottomed out, seeing that Colby’s right hand had already swelled and was turning red and purple. A long raised welt had darkened on the center of his forearm. “Christ, kid. How are you not screamin’? That f**ker looks painful.”
“I didn’t…”
“Son, you don’t gotta act tough around me. I’d rather you were honest so I have an idea of what we’re dealin’ with.”
“It feels like all the bones in my hand are broken.”
A hand injury with multiple broken bones could mean multiple surgeries—and from what he’d heard, they were painful and incapacitating.
Carson left Colby in the truck when he went in to explain what’d happened and why he had to make his third trip to the emergency room.
On the drive into town, Carson kept up a steady stream of chatter because Colby’s pain-filled silence was more than he could take.
Sure he’d been upset holding onto Carter and hoping there weren’t complications when they reset the break. But the poor overwhelmed six-year-old had all but passed out.
Then today with Colt, the kid had cracked fishing jokes all the way into town. The only time his charm faltered was when the nurse had numbed the area with four separate shots. Carson had seen one single tear escape while the ten-year-old gritted his teeth.
“Dad,” Colby interrupted. “It’s okay. I don’t really think Ma will skin you alive when she gets home. This was an accident.”
His thirteen-year-old boy having to console his forty-one-year-old father just made him feel worse.
This trip to the hospital took longer. He’d be damn surprised if the medical personnel didn’t call Wyoming Child Protective Services.
He remained by Colby’s side through all the X-rays and waiting for the on-call specialist to give a diagnosis.
The good news? No broken bones but a couple of hairline fractures that required Colby to wear a cast for six weeks. The bad news? Since he’d injured his riding hand the kid couldn’t compete for the rest of the summer. Better than not being able to compete for a few years because of surgeries.
By the time they finished three hours later, Carson was exhausted. They stopped at Dairy Queen and picked up burgers and fries and ice cream for supper.
The mood at home was subdued, although it hadn’t affected their appetites. His nerves were shot. He sat on the couch and Keely immediately crawled into his lap, snuggling into him. Then Carter did the same thing on the opposite side. Then all the boys were piled on the couch next to each other or on the floor in front of it. No bickering or shoving, and he finally relaxed.
Carolyn arrived home earlier on day five than Carson expected.
He caught her in his arms as she alighted from the truck, holding onto her tightly—then he kissed her with the passion he usually saved for behind closed doors. When he finally released her mouth, she sighed. “You really did miss me.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He heard the screen door open and knew the time of reckoning had come. His gut tightened, as did his throat. And he was man enough to admit even his balls shrunk a little, as he ran through everything he had to tell her.
“Mom’s home!” Cam said with glee.
And still he didn’t move.
“Carson? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“You’ll see. And uh, don’t judge me too harshly, okay?”
Carolyn ripped herself away from him. She froze after she’d only taken two steps.
All six kids were in a line, like before. Carson tried to see it from her eyes. Cord, the only one without obvious injury, unless she looked close enough to see the chafing on his right hand from continual jacking off, held Keely, who was sporting a goose egg on her forehead. Next was Colby, his hand in a cast. Next was Colt, a bandage wrapped around his calf. Then Cam, with a vicious black eye. And finally Carter, with a cast on his left arm.
Silence.
Then Carolyn slowly faced him.
And Carson blurted out, “I swear I can explain.”
“Mr. McKay?”
Carson blinked at the nurse. “Yes.”
“It’s time if you want to go in.”
“Thank you.”
Yeah, that wouldn’t be a memory he’d bring up with his wife.