The Cowboy's Promise (UNDER HEAVY REVISION)

Major Headache

The new update to this chapter is just fixing some errors. Nothing important. So you don't have to read it, or you can, whatever. It's your life.

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Mama refuses to sit down, instead serving and fussing over everyone. I've never seen her smile this big for this long. Faith twirls her hair, giggling as she talks with Stephen. He talks animatedly with her and Elliot, who sits to his left. Red and Daddy are quiet, Daddy studying Stephen. Red raises an eyebrow at Mama, narrowing his icy blue eyes.

"Mom, what's with the face?" Red asks.

"I finally got all of you sitting together for one meal. I think the twins were in middle school the last time. It's about time," she replies.

"It was not that long, Mom," the twins reply in unison over Stephen's laughter.

"But we do have an extra," Daddy adds, pointing his fork at Stephen.

Faith startles. "Oh! Mama and Daddy, this is Stephen. This is my boyfriend I told you about."

"Does Stephen have a last name and parents?" Daddy questions.

"Uh, C-Callop, sir," Stephen replies, clearing his throat. "I'm Chaser and Amy Callop's son." He grins nervously.

"Chaser. . . .," he mutters, "That sounds familiar. Did he go to Lincoln High, by any chance?"

Stephen nods. Daddy snaps his fingers. "That's it! He graduated a year ahead of me. How old are you?"

Stephen replies he's twenty one, a year older than Faith. Daddy nods at this. Quietly, I say I have something to tell them when Stephen leaves. I have to repeat it several times before they hear. No one in my family knows about the tumor. Being over eighteen that night, I was allowed to keep the info secret. So no one in my family knows except me and Elliot. So I realize that if I'm going to have these blackouts, I have to tell Mama. I also make a resolution to go to the doctor tomorrow. Tomorrow will be four years since I found the tumor.

I am a dead man tonight, I think. If my parents don't kill me, Red will. Red's so protective and stern for a 25 year old. I hate thinking about what he'd do if one of us died. Being a Dodge boy, he won't admit it, but he truly loves his siblings.

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The hours pass quickly as we talk and laugh with Stephen. He seems like a good kid. When he finally leaves, Daddy turns the tv off and turns to me.

"What do you need to tell us, son?" he asks. I swallow nervously, my lips twitching into a nervous smile. Yes, thirty years old and my dad still makes me nervous.

I pull the laptop over and hunt for some documents while I talk. "So, uh, I'm sure the boys and Faith told you I had a little blackout today. And last week, and the month before that. But the point is, on here, I have a couple things I've saved. Results from a certain doctors visit. In Jackson, at the, uh, Dixie National, I was run over by Footloose. But look, this is an MRI of a normal brain. The left is my brain."

"Get to the damn point, Coltrane," Red growls. He's serious. He rarely uses my middle name.

"Getting there, Kaden," I retaliate. "So, I didn't, uh, fall off, I blacked out and slipped off. I have no memories from being run over by Footloose to waking up in the hospital. You see, my brain has this growth on the left lobe. They found it that night. When Elliot explained everything, they gave me an MRI. He gave me the results when I woke up. They found a mass in my head. The doctors suggested surgery, but it's on a dangerous part of my brain. Surgery would've killed me."

Red and my parents look ready to kill me. Elliot has a deadpan expression on his face, as if he's trying to think of anything but that night. I see him scratching his wrist. Faith gives me a sympathetic smile. I self-consciously rub my right lower leg, which had been shattered that night as well.

"What?" Red growls. "Why the hell did you keep this a secret?"

"Didn't keep it a secret, per say. Just never had a good reason to bring it up," I reply. Yes, I'm very aware I'm digging my own grave.

"For four years?! Four damn years and you didn't 'have a good reason to bring it up.'" Red stands up so fast the chair is pushed back. "What if you'd died, Blake?! What if you'd fucking died?!" He swears and storms out. I watch him go, shocked.

"I'll take care of him," Mama says, following. Her voice is shaking.

I rub the back of my neck, looking at my feet. I expected Red to be mad, but not storm out. But Daddy seems eerily calm, like the calm before the storm. Like I said earlier, he scares me. Especially like this.

"After my leg healed, Elliot and I kept on. Because of the risks of surgery, we decided I'd live with it. Only thing is I'd have these blackouts all my life. We found it four years ago tomorrow, and I'm going to the hospital to check on it," I finish. Daddy chews on the end of his glasses. I shift nervously. Faith kneels down in front of me and takes my hands in hers. I lean down and touch my forehead to hers.

"Blake," she says softly, "why? Why would you keep this from us? You worried us to death today. Especially Red. He doesn't show it real well, but he really cares about you."

I take my little sister in my arms, and she curls up in my lap like a six-year-old. "I know. Whatever I find out tomorrow, I'll tell you. Pinky promise."

She nods against my chest, hooking her finger in mine. My baby sister is a walking bleeding heart. She hates to see anyone suffering and honestly worries too much. She worries about stuff she can't change. Like my head. She can't do anything to change the fact that the tumor is there. They could lose me if I attempt surgery. But to keep my family from worrying, I might just try it. But speaking of family....

I work myself out from under Faith and walk outside. Red's leaning against the corral fence, a beer bottle dangling between his fingers. He keeps his head down, his forehead on his wrists. His shoulders shake. I put a hand on his shoulder, and he whirls around, pinning me against the railing. One foreman is pressed against my throat, while the other hand is knotted in my shirt, holding me up. The beer lays forgotten in the dirt. I hold both hands up in surrender.

"Why, man?" Red's eyes are red, and his voice is thick and broken.

"I didn't want to worry you. Any of you."

"Damn it, Blake! What the hell you think you did today!? You sure as fucking hell didn't put me at peace! You're worrying the hell out of everybody because you only think of yourself!" Red explodes.

I look at him, shocked. "What the hell do you mean, 'only think of myself?' Almost everything I do is for you, El, and Faith. If I only thought of myself, I'd still be on the road, or running off with some random girl. The only reason I'm still here is you guys. Remember when Daddy used to get drunk? I took most of the blows. He wasn't allowed to touch you or Mama."

Red pauses, lowering me back to my feet. "Really?"

"Yeah, man. Mama made him stop drinking when the twins came. But he was a violent drunk. Loose-lipped, too. Remember my broken collarbone?"

"Yeah, but you told me you did that at football," Red replies.

"To keep you from worrying. See, I care more about you three than you could imagine. Who was there at every little league, football, and soccer game? Every dance competition?" I ask. The answer isn't Mama and Daddy. Sometimes they had to work.

"You," Red answers quietly. He wraps me in a tight hug as he starts sobbing. "I'm sorry. I'm so freaking sorry, man."

"I'm sorry, too, man." I rub Red's back as his arms tighten surround me. Once he's quiet, I sling an arm across his shoulders and walk with him to the house. And we don't say another word all night as we sit on the porch swing.

And that's just fine by me.