Читать книгу Fatherhood 101 - Mae Nunn - Страница 15

CHAPTER SIX

“WHAT ON EARTH was I thinking, Rocket?”

Cullen moved from room to room in a last-ditch effort to tidy up his cluttered home before his company arrived.

His brothers had been teasing him for years that his house looked like one of those ancient bookmobiles had pulled through the front door and exploded. Volumes of every conceivable genre and subject were crammed into shelves and stacked in corners. Each room in the rambling, ranch-style home smelled of printed words bound by glue, cardboard and stitching. The aroma was reverent to Cullen, something most people, and certainly his obnoxious brothers, would never understand.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Hunt had displayed a love of cooking at an early age and the kitchen had long been his sanctuary. Their older brother Joiner loved all things equine. The inside of a barn, smelling of horse sweat and leather tack, was his place of solace. And then there was the oldest, McCarthy, a natural bean counter whose blood pressure was kept steady by frequent immersion in spreadsheets and 401(k) statements.

As much grief as they’d always given Cullen over his obsession for education, the four Temple brothers shared a bond when it came to having a passion. And each man’s passion seemed to come from deep inside and wouldn’t be snuffed out or denied.

Alma said their parents had been no different, and from Cullen’s earliest memories, he had to agree. Their father was a surgeon who’d given countless hours to the hospital and the community it served. And their mother had had an incredible green thumb and knack for growing things. The constant cycle of fertilizing, planting, nurturing, weeding, pruning and picking had been what she’d adored, second only to the five men in her family.

Yep, no doubt about it, they were all destined to obsess, just as their patriarch had once done over striking it rich in the East Texas oil fields. That thought reminded Cullen that he’d offered to tell Sarah about his grandfather. Maybe he’d get that chore over with today since it was best to let the old skeleton out of the closet early and be finished with him. Even so, being endowed with the Temple name in these parts would never completely allow Cullen to bury Pap’s notorious legacy.

“Anybody home?”

“In here,” Cullen shouted. Rocket growled, a sound too small and endearing to be threatening.

“Hey, little brother!” Joiner’s voice boomed from the front entryway.

“I’ve gotta start locking my door,” Cullen called from the den that served as his study.

“Yeah, as if anybody with a lick of sense would want to steal a stack of old books.”

Rocket scurried to investigate the newcomer, skidding to a stop as he was confronted by cowboy boots and jean-clad legs.

“Whoa! Who’s this?”

Joiner squatted, held open his arms and Rocket went into the embrace as if his long-lost friend had come home from the war.

“As I said, I should start locking the door because it seems my new watchdog isn’t gonna keep out the riffraff.”

“Since when do you have an animal in your home?” Joiner gathered Rocket’s long limbs and stood, reminding Cullen of a cowpoke holding a rescued calf.

“Since that one wandered out from behind a Dumpster at the pizza restaurant begging for a handout.”

“You took in a stray?” Joiner seemed incredulous, and rightly so. Cullen had always been too focused on his studies to make room for an animal in his life, much less in his home.

“How could I resist that face?”

“Looks like your boy’s got a lot of golden retriever in him,” Joiner noted.

“That’s what the vet said when I took Rocket in to get him checked out and vaccinated.”

Cullen watched his brother tenderly cradle the pup, stroking his blond coat and floppy ears while Rocket poked his curious nose at Joiner’s shirt pocket.

“Can he have a peppermint?” Joiner fished out a striped candy.

“Just this once. But if he throws it up, the mess belongs to you.”

Joiner settled Rocket on the rug, tore open the small cellophane packet and offered the treat. The puppy sniffed it and turned uncertain eyes to his master. Warmth shot through Cullen’s heart at Rocket’s request for approval.

“It’s okay, you can have it,” Cullen assured his new buddy.

Rocket scooped up the candy with a swipe of his pink tongue and crunched it between puppy teeth as sharp as carpet tacks.

“How many years have you been carrying Life Savers in your pocket, Joiner?”

“As many as I’ve been coaxing and training horses. They all seem to cooperate a little better if you sweeten the deal.” He stood but kept an eye on Rocket as the puppy enjoyed the treat.

“Think that principle applies to girls and cookies?” Cullen had purchased an assortment of baked goods, hoping to win favor with Carrie, Meg and Hope. And maybe Sarah.

“Sugar and females have gone hand in hand since the Garden of Eden. I personally think the forbidden fruit was a MoonPie instead of an apple.. I can’t imagine why it would be any different today,” Joiner replied. “Why do you ask?”

“I have company on the way.”

“If you already have plans, why’d you ask me to come by?” Joiner slanted a questioning glance at Cullen.

“I figured it might be nice to invite my brother over for a swim and some lunch.” Cullen tried to sound offended by Joiner’s suspicion.

“My, aren’t you domestic all of the sudden.”

“A new friend from the university is bringing her three daughters over to use the pool.”

Joiner’s head snapped back, his eyes wide.

“A new friend? Anybody I might recognize?”

“It’s always a possibility in a town this small. Her name’s Sarah Eason.”

“Joe Eason’s widow?” Joiner asked, his brows drawing together.

“You knew her husband?”

“I met him at the gym years ago and we played racquetball a handful of times before he got too sick. Nice guy. I’d heard he passed away a while ago.” Joiner gave a sad shake of his head.

“Did you ever meet his wife?”

“No, never did. I was aware that Joe was married with kids, but guys don’t do much more than point and grunt within the perimeter of the gym. Where’d you meet her?”

“Sarah’s auditing the lecture I took over for Blair this semester.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that? McCarthy mentioned you were teaching a class of your own now. Aren’t you worried responsibility might cramp your style?”

“That’s the pot callin’ the kettle black,” Cullen scoffed. “You’ve never been responsible for more than shoveling horse manure in your life.”

“Hey, that’s not true. Ninety percent of my time off the polo field is spent fundraising.”

“How’s that working out for your own checkbook?”

Joiner held a palm outward. “Enough. Nobody has to remind me how much time and money I’ve exhausted in the past ten years when I could hardly afford either. Now I’ve gotta figure out how to invest what I’ve got left once the ponies are sold.”

“You gonna sell Pistol, too?”

“No way. He’s the smartest investment I ever made. I’m going to stud him out for as long as he’s interested in fraternizing with Texas fillies.”

“How long is Render willing to put you up at his ranch?”

“He’s agreed to trade his foreman’s cabin for my services until I can find the right place or he hires a permanent manager.”

Car doors slammed and high-pitched female voices announced the arrival of Cullen’s guests. Rocket’s head angled toward the sounds. He woofed softly and ambled down the hallway to the front entrance.

“Sounds like your date’s here.”

“Cut it out. Alma’s coming over too so it’s strictly on the up and up.” Cullen dismissed his brother’s insinuation. “The lady could use a friend and I happened to be in the right place at the right moment. And between you and me, Blair suggested I try something completely different, stretch my legs a bit. So I’ve enrolled in a psychology class for the fall semester. I figured observing some kids who have lost their daddy, kind of like we did, might be helpful to me in the class.”

“Yeah, well, just watch your step or you’ll have a ready-made family on your hands.”

A ready-made family...

A knock on the door resounded in the entry hall. Rocket began to bark in earnest and giggly girls squealed in response on the front porch. The tranquility of his home was about to be shattered, for the day at least, and he had no one to blame but himself.

A ready-made family?

Perish the thought!

“Want me to get it?” Joiner said, offering to greet Cullen’s guests.

“I’ll go. But you can keep an eye on Rocket for a minute.” He took a leash from the peg by the door, attached it to the puppy’s collar and handed it to Joiner.

The two moved toward the kitchen to let Cullen pass and he inhaled a final deep breath of calm air before letting hurricane Eason into the house.

“Greetings!” He pulled the door wide, expecting Sarah’s girls to be lined up like little soldiers waiting for instructions. Boy, howdy, had he been wrong. The force of being crowded and squeezed by three pairs of arms as young bodies crushed against his midsection nearly knocked that final calm breath out of him.

“Ladies, we agreed to show some restraint today, remember?” Sarah coached her exuberant brood. “Sorry, Cullen, but Meg and Hope have been watching the clock since their Cheerios went mushy at 6:00 a.m. If they’d had their way we’d have been here hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Hope mumbled, her face pressed against Cullen’s pant leg. “Even Carrie got out of bed without griping for a change.”

At the mention of her name, Carrie dropped away from the group hug, a mask of indifference replacing the smile she’d been wearing. “MYOB, Runtzilla. It’s not exactly front page news when a person gets up early on a Saturday morning.”

“By early she means ten o’clock,” Meg explained with an unsympathetic roll of her eyes—eyes the same lovely color as her mother’s. “I wanted to come sooner to enjoy the clear weather. It’s a documented fact that spending time in the sunshine is the only reliable way to create vitamin D in your skin, and studies show the lack of it can lead to schizophrenia.”

“Well, then, Dr. Jekyll, you’d better get outside quick before Miss Hyde makes her first appearance of the day,” Carrie snapped.

“Where’s Rocket?” Hope looked past Cullen and into the house.

“He’s inside with my brother.”

“The Cowboy Chef’s here?” Carrie’s question was almost breathless, her eyes all kinds of dreamy.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you but it’s my older brother Joiner. Hunt’s working today. His fiancée owns Temple Territory and they have their own pool event going on over there this afternoon.”

“Oh.” Carrie’s face fell. “I hadn’t heard he was engaged.”

“What did you expect, that he’d wait on you for ten more years?” Meg taunted.

“No, but I was at least hoping to see him while he was still available. The Cowboy Chef is a hottie patottie.”

“Hey! He’s my identical twin so I assume that makes me hot, too, huh?” Cullen held his arms wide, waiting for a compliment.

“I meant hot in a television sort of way. Your look is more...” Carrie paused, not wanting to dig the hole deeper.

“Rustic?”

“Exactly!”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Your word, not mine.”

“I wanna see Rocket!” Hope danced with excitement, the ruffles on her swimsuit cover-up jiggling to her imagined beat.

“Let him loose, Joiner!” Cullen called down the hallway.

Seconds later the golden-haired pup came flying through the doorway, skinny legs a flurry of speed, mouth wide in a doggy grin as he hit Hope with big front paws and knocked her to the ground.

“He remembers me!” she shouted, and then burst into shrieks of laughter, assuring Cullen she’d survived the impact. Meg and Carrie joined the calamity on the ground, rolling in the warm, summer grass, taking turns letting Rocket plant wet, joyful kisses on their faces.

Cullen watched, fascinated by the moment of sweet innocence and pure play, trying to remember a day when he’d been so young, so unafraid.

Trying to remember what life had felt like before PTSD.

Before he started cutting himself.