The Cowboy's Promise (UNDER HEAVY REVISION)

A Tough Year

It's mid-January, and life is finally settling back to normal. I step outside, my hands wrapped around a coffee mug. I stare into space, studying the horses and the virgin snow coating the ranch. (Virgin, that is, until my brothers or dogs get a hold of it.) Speaking of my brothers, where are they?

While I'm wondering about them, a rope settles around my shoulders and tightens. I'm jerked forward a step. I startle and spill the hot coffee all down the front of my shirt and jeans. I struggle against the lariat and look around. A familiar laugh breaks through my cursing. I glare up at the offender. He offers a smug smile.

"Red Dodge. You son of a bitch," I growl.

"Oh, sorry, bro. I honestly didn't see your coffee," he apologizes, but the glint in his eyes tells me it's not sincere.

"What the hell else would I have in this cup?" I ask, holding up the ceramic mug.

He shrugs from atop Belleza, the tan lariat end resting casually between his fingers. "Knowing you, it could be water or anything."

I raise an eyebrow at my younger brother. "Water? In a coffee cup?"

He gives me a cheeky smile. I roll my eyes and tug the lariat off. He's laughing his ass off as I open the screen door. I flip him off over my shoulder. Mama just happens to be right on the other side of the door. She sighs, holding her hand out for my clothes.

"Honestly, boys, you're impossible to deal with. You're givin' your poor Mama gray hairs! Go up and get changed. I'll wash this."

"Mama, that's called dealing with Daddy and having four kids, the oldest being thirty," I chuckle, stripping off my shirt, undershirt, and jeans.

I kiss her on the cheek and run upstairs. I grab more clothes from my room and step into the bathroom. I wet a washcloth and wipe the coffee off my body, pausing to admire my abs. Owning a ranch definitely comes with perks. Not to mention the little time I get to workout.

A cough bursts out of my chest, and the cloth comes to my mouth on instinct. The white material comes back with a smattering of red. That gives me pause; I stare at it for a minute, feeling sick. I quickly rinse it out and try to ignore what it might mean. My hands run through my hair, as I try to keep my expression neutral. I walk downstairs, trying to act normal. But damn if Mama don't pick up on it.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she asks.

My lips twitch up into a forced smile. "Nothing, Mama. I'm alright. I promise."

I run outside before she can ask anymore questions. All through the day, that red spot works its way into my mind. I make a mental note to call the hospital soon. My blue bandana turns purple before long. Red also keeps his eyes on me, so I make sure to turn away from him before I cough. He's just more suspicious of me then. He keeps his gunmetal blue eyes on me throughout lunch. I only pick at the plate in front of me. I finally admit defeat after the meal and lay on my bed until supper, weak and upset.

€*€

It's March now. I snuck off in February to see Dr. Indin. He says I don't have long left, hence the coughing up blood. I left his office shaky and nervous. And depressed. I try to act normal as we go through chores, but I catch Red and El watching me, a warning in their eyes. It doesn't help that I cough every few minutes and have trouble tossing a square bale. Normally I could toss a hundred no problem.

None of my family knows the situation yet except El. And he completely flipped his shit when I told him. Based off that, I'm almost scared of Red's reaction. Every day is almost monotonous for me, because Red has banned me from heavy lifting now. You'd think he runs my life. I'm resigned to riding fences, feeding animals, and occasionally rounding up rogue cows.