Page 50 of Pulled From Both Sides
“Hey, son,” Gramps Pharris said, plopping down next to him. “Wanna play cards?”
“Yes, sir.” He loved to play and Gramps was one of the best. There wasn’t a card game the old man didn’t know. “What are we playing today?”
“Well, we can play Rummy, or I got a travel cribbage game.”
“Let’s play cribbage.” That way if another couple of guys came, they could add them in. Besides, his folks liked that one.
“Good deal. How you holding up, Joa? You about ready to get home?”
He nodded before he thought. “Yessir. So ready. I miss my dogs, my horses. My folks.”
“I hear you, son. I truly do.” Coke seemed worn down, his color fading after days away from the sun, his eyes tired.
“You and Dillon should go rest, too,” Joa said, taking the cards Coke handed him.
“When Sammy goes home.” There was so much in those gray eyes—so much hurting. It made Joa sad, but ashamed, too. All he was thinking of was himself, what he wanted.
Well, what he wanted and what Balta needed.
“Did they say anything about when he would go?” Coke had been in there, so he might know more.
“I don’t think so, no. Beau didn’t say. Sammy’s just now woke up and there’s all doctors in there, you know?”
That, he did remember. Once you woke up from a head injury, the room was like an anthill, crawling with doctors and nurses and more. Joa shuffled the cards, then dealt them out, the motion soothing him. “I’m so glad he’s awake.”
“I am, too.” Coke checked his cards over and put down a deuce. “It’s a damn good sign. They’ll be able to put his lid back on soon.”
“Ew.”
“I know, right?”
The idea of having to remove a piece of skull to repair damage inside made Joa a tiny bit queasy. How was that ever supposed to work right? Sam would never ride again, for sure.
He shook his head, his fingers going to his scalp and bumping his hat. That had Coke cackling at him. “Exactly, son. Makes your head itch.”
Joa grinned. “It does. I’m not the only one,sim?” Coke always knew, but Joa never felt as though he had to apologize for being silly.
“Hey, can I sit in?” Dillon came back with a drink. “He has candy, Coke.”
“Do you? You got anything for me?”
“I do. I have lots.” He handed the bag over and dealt Dillon in. “All the sweet things.”
“I’ve heard that about you, Joa.” Dillon’s tease made his cheeks go hot, but he had to grin. He and Balta hadn’t been so careful lately. People who looked, saw. Not that he worried about Coke and Dillon, but some others would not be so easy.
“Oh, a Payday.” Coke seemed like a little kid, all smiles, which eased the lines on his face.
“Sim. Peanuts. Those are good.” Cowboys loved their sweets.
“They are. Hey, I was thinking what to send Balta for Christmas,” Coke said around a bite of candy. “You think one of those meat and cheese things? I know he loves mortadella.”
Joa nodded enthusiastically. “He will not go home this break, to Brazil. My family will cook for him, you know? They love him, but they’ve been here a long time. More tamales than he’s used to.”
Dillon tilted his head. “So, what does he get at home? I mean, I’ve only been to a Brazilian steak house. That one in Dallas.”
“It’sCeia de Natal, you know? A special dinner. There is turkey and rice and beans like here, but alsobacalhau—fish,sim? A salty fish. Andrabanada. Balta loves his sweets. Always that. My mom, she still makes that every year.”
The heavy toasted bread with the cinnamon and egg was rich and the glaze of port and honey made it special.
