Stockman’s Stormcloud (Stockmen #3)

Four

Dex slowly woke to the repeated sounds of click-clack. Click-clack. His head groggy like he’d come out of a week-long bourbon bender, with a sore throat, a furry tongue and gritty eyes. But there was something plastic covering his mouth that was annoying him. He went to push it off, when a warm hand stopped him.

‘Don’t, darling.’

He opened his eyes, recognising the voice straight away, and knew what the click-clacking noise was. ‘Mum?’

‘There’s my boy.’ Cammie Riggs softly smiled, putting down her knitting needles, to tenderly stroke his hair like he was still that small boy.

‘What are you doing here, Mum?’

‘Your cousin Monet picked us up in her plane.’

‘Us? Did Dad come with you?’

‘He did. He’s just gone to hassle the nurse about something. And your sisters called, hoping you’ll get better soon.’

He struggled to keep up. ‘Why are you here, Mum?’

‘Your brothers called.’ His mother nodded across his bed to the other side of the room where all his brothers sat, lined up against the wall, starting with the oldest, Ryder, then Cap, Ash, and their baby brother Jonathan.

‘What’s going on?’ It must be big, especially for his parents to visit, because they rarely left home.

‘Your lungs are cactus, mate.’ Ash gave a casual shrug, only to cop a backhanded slap from Jonathan .

‘Not true.’ Dex tried to get out of bed. ‘Flip it.’ He’d forgotten about the rib. Its heated stabbing pain was the wake-up call he needed, clearing his brain of the medicated fog. ‘Where’s Bree and Charlie?’

‘Home.’ Ryder gave a brief nod. ‘I sent them back yesterday.’

Yesterday?

He rubbed his dry eyes. The air conditioning was cold against his skin, and all he could smell was plastic from the mask he was made to wear. The gassy oxygen partly filled his lungs with a sharp tang of medical antiseptics that was cold and metallic against his tongue, it was like licking a freshly polished piece of silver.

He wanted water. He wanted outside air, not this artificial air that was drying out his skin, his throat, and his lips. He wanted out and now. ‘How long have I been here?’

‘A few days, brother.’ Cap tapped Dex’s shoulder, pushing him back onto the bed. ‘Bree rang us as soon as they had to knock you out to help you breathe.’

‘I like Bree and Charlie. Your father’s quite taken with Charlie. Those two talk like old friends.’ Cammie smiled as the knitting needles click-clacked in her nimble fingers as she worked away on some blue wool. ‘And I absolutely adore Mason. Now, boys, when can I expect more grandchildren?’

The brothers coughed while shuffling in their seats.

‘I’m knitting my grandson a beanie for winter, and then some jumpers. Harper is so good with your boy, Ash. I hope you tell your lovely lady that.’

‘I do, Mum. But I’ll tell her you said that, it’ll make her day.’ Ash began tapping out a message on his phone. ‘Harper said she’ll pop in after work later.’

‘And we’ve left Mia at home to man the fort.’ Cap looked wistfully out the window, obviously missing his partner, who rarely left the station, like his parents, who never left home, but here they were.

‘Oh, I adore Mia, too. She’s perfect for you, Cap.’ Cammie paused from her knitting to give one of those deep smiley sighs, the ones she always gave after watching one of her feel-good mushy Hallmark Christmas movies with their sappy happy endings.

‘I know…’ Yep, Cap was just as love-sick sappy as a Hallmark movie, too.

‘Don’t worry, Cap, Bree and Charlie are there, doing what caretakers do,’ said Ryder in that deep voice that cut through any conversation.

‘When can I leave?’

‘Tomorrow, if you behave,’ answered Ryder, bluntly. ‘But first, you need to choose where you’re staying?’

‘That’s easy. My place.’

‘Darling…’ His mother put down her knitting to hold Dex’s hand. ‘You can’t live on a camp bed inside a tent in a run-down shack while you’re recuperating.’

‘I was planning to renovate. I’ve just been busy.’

‘I’m not judging. We live in a junkyard, darling, so we never judge how anyone lives. Lord knows, we get judged daily. But while I have you in the same room… I’d like to say sorry to all of you boys.’ Cammie turned in her chair. ‘I’m sorry I had your father build the boxing ring in the yard. And I’m sorry I was determined you all learned how to box and that I set such a harsh boxing training schedule when you were all little boys. I just didn’t want you to get bullied.’

‘Mum, this is not your fault.’ Dex squeezed her hand as his brothers backed up what he was saying.

‘Well, I can’t help but feel guilty for your health.’ Click-clack. Click-clack

‘I’ll be fine, Mum. You know I’ll bet on me to fight this and win. I always do.’

‘Not this time.’ Ryder leaned in with cold eyes like hard steel. ‘If you don’t take care of yourself now, you’ll have issues in the long-term if you don’t quit fighting.’

But it’s how Dex made his money. In one fight, he’d earn more than most people made in half a year. He was doing it to pay off the mortgage.

‘So, we’ve all been discussing your options. ’

‘For what?’ Dex scowled at Ryder. His big brother had no right to tell him what to do with his life. ‘Don’t think you can start pushing me around. You’re not my boss.’

‘Hey, brother, you need after-care treatment.’ Cap, their family’s peacekeeper, leaned down to meet Dex in the eye. ‘If you do what the doctors say, you will fully recover.’

That was promising. ‘And what exactly is that?’

‘Rest. The hospital will send out someone to check on your progress and give you breathing exercises to help your lungs recover.’

‘And you can’t do that lying in a tent surrounded by dust.’ Ryder leaned back in his chair, crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest. ‘You’ll need someone who won’t take your crap when you decide you’re fit enough to not need the treatment.’

‘Oi.’ He resented that.

‘You can’t mess with this, Dex. They’ve got you on some heavy drugs.’ Ryder leaned in again with that menacing overlord attitude. ‘No lungs. No breathing. Got it?’

Arsehole. He got it.

‘Good. Now let’s fix it with you deciding where you want to stay, so I can tell the hospital where to book those daily medical visits.’ It was Ryder, the man in charge, and at times like this, there was no arguing with the man.

‘We’d have you at the farmhouse, bro,’ said Ash, ‘but you’ll get irritated in a heartbeat over a toddler in your space. You won’t get the proper rest you need, because we all know every time Mason sees you, he wants to punch you.’

‘I’ve been training him.’ Teaching the toddler to punch was stinking cute. But Dex understood it wasn’t best, because the boy would jump on him.

‘You can come home with me,’ said Mum. ‘I’ll spoil you.’

‘Thanks, Mum, but no.’ He took a few sharp breaths. ‘I’m about to test the new calf cradle I built.’ Ever since their first cattle draft, he’d been fixing up those yards, to help improve their drafting processes.

‘The vet’s coming out— Hold on, what day is it?’ He struggled to speak in his normal tone and fill his lungs with metal-tasting air, while fighting off that cloudy feeling of light-headedness. Come on, brother, breathe.

‘Monday,’ replied Ash. ‘We had Harper push the appointment back because we’ve been here, taking shifts.’

The fight had been on Thursday night. No way! Did that mean he’d been knocked out for more than three days!

Even if it hurt, he roughly raked fingers through his hair as if to get a grip on the time lost. ‘Have you all been here?’ Nah, his brothers wouldn’t babysit him like that. Would they?

But they all wore serious expressions as if he’d died or something.

‘Bree and Charlie were here, too,’ said Ash.

No flipping way!

Pushing off the mask, Dex reached for the water cup.

His mother quickly downed her knitting and picked up the cup, holding it to his lips like she was spoon-feeding him again, as if he was a kid.

Dex wasn’t a kid, for flips sake, he was a grown-arse man. ‘Thanks, Mum.’ He took the cup and drank the sterile water that tasted like it had been trapped in some metal tank for a century. At least it was cold. ‘When did Bree leave?’

‘She didn’t.’ Ryder’s cold eyes bored into Dex. ‘Bree refused to leave the night she brought you in.’

That part he remembered, while remembering to slip the mask back on. He also remembered how Bree said she’d kept his brothers away to not crowd his space that night—like they were now in the small hospital room with its grey walls and tiny window with thick glass that even the sunshine struggled to shine through. ‘I made Bree promise to stay.’

‘I know.’ Ryder’s jaw ticked as if he was gritting his teeth. ‘And I know how much you hate people breaking promises, so Bree kept hers. For you.’

Why was Ryder so upset? It’s not like he was the one stuck in a hospital bed to play his part as the breathless piggy in the middle.

Then he remembered there was a cat and a cute blonde nurse he’d nicknamed Nurse Kitty. Or was that part of a dream? Because he sure as hell had woken up to some sort of nightmare.

‘I really like Bree, she’s a real take charge kind of girl. Bree gave me so many seedlings to take home.’ Cammie’s knitting needles click-clacked as her fingers wove the line of blue wool into a weave. It was the sound he grew up with. ‘Your father loves Bree’s morning tonic. It’s got hemp seeds, which is so new to me—it’s said to be good for the heart. I’ve got the recipe to make at home for the father-in-law, too.’

‘I can’t believe you fell for one of Bree’s witchy potions.’ Dex lay back, surrendering to the pillow, closing his eyes to avoid his brothers’ pitying looks, while trying to control his breathing. With each inhale and exhale, he’d never been so aware of his lungs like this.

Click-clack. Click-clack. ‘You should come home with us.’

‘Thanks, but no. I have a home.’ That he was fighting for. Hold on, where did he put his cash to pay for that home?

‘Well, that leaves you with only one other option of where to camp.’ Ryder’s deep voice slammed against Dex’s brain like a bulldozer tearing down a dam wall.

‘Where? I’m not going to the dogbox. Those yapping dogs would drive me nuts. No offense, brother,’ Dex said to Cap, the man in charge of so many rescued muster dogs, retired police dogs, and guardian dogs, it was impossible to keep up.

‘None taken,’ said Cap. ‘Besides, we weren’t expecting you to. There’s no room for anyone else, not until we finish building.’

‘You’ll wanna hurry before the wet season comes,’ said Ash.

‘I know. But my builder is kind of…’ Cap shrugged at Dex, who couldn’t build much from a hospital bed.

‘Well, where do I go then?’ Breathe, brother. Breathe.

‘Somewhere you’ll get bed rest,’ said his mother in her cheery voice. ‘You’ll get fed healthy meals to help you recover in a safe environment where someone will always be around. Kinda like a day spa—’

‘Sorry, Mum, I can’t stay with you and I’m not staying here.’ Like hell that was going to happen. He’d break out if he had to.

Breathe, brother.

Flippin’ hell, now he sounded like Darth Vader behind the oxygen mask.

‘It’s Bree’s couch.’ Ryder’s upper lip twitched into a sneer.

‘What the flip!’ Dex ripped off his mask again and matched Ryder’s scowl.

‘Mia swears it’s the best couch on the planet,’ said Cap.

‘Think about it, bro, you’ll get the meals we all wish we could eat every night,’ said Ash.

‘Which means you’ll get the healthy nutrients to help you recover,’ said Cap.

‘No. Bree will fill me full of some witchy woo-woo nonsense, or we’ll probably kill each other in the first twelve hours.’ He inhaled and exhaled. Even if he was angry, his lungs just wouldn’t behave.

Breathe, brother.

Dex hated that they were ganging up on him like this, when normally he was on the other side of their family interventions as the muscle. ‘You’ll never get Bree to agree to this.’

His brothers shrugged. Some nodded. Except Ryder, who remained cold and expressionless as always.

‘Wait, you—’ He stopped to take a single breath. One flipping breath. ‘You had Charlie talk Bree into this, didn’t you?’ It was the only way to get Bree to do anything for them, because Bree would always bend to Charlie’s requests, but she’d complain about it later.

Great, she was going to hate on him now.