The Cowboy's Promise (UNDER HEAVY REVISION)

Prepping

As the truck lurches forward, I instinctively snap my arm in front of Lane, thanking the heavens that I made him wear his seatbelt. El, unfortunately, tucked the strap behind his back, so he jerks forward, hitting the dash face-first. I swear I hear his nose crack. He yelps.

Once the truck stops, I step out and walk towards the Dodge. The man steps out, visibly worried.

"Holy shit, man. I'm so sorry. I honestly thought you were going. Who all is in there with you?" he asks, wringing his hands.

"It's fine. Things on your mind? I have my younger brother and my little cousin in there."

"Uh, you could say that. I've been insanely busy. Please tell me nobody was hurt."

I shake my head, and he's slightly relieved. "Nah. The kid's alright, and I think my brother broke his nose, but he'll be okay. Not the first time he's broken it. Hey, shit happens."

"Thank God. I'll be more careful in the future. By the way, I called the police already. Insurance and everything."

"Okay. Thanks."

€*€

It takes a while to resolve the situation. Red eventually shows up in the Chevy. I walk back to the truck to find Elliot holding my old shirt to his nose. I don't fuss at him for ruining my shirt, instead using my finger to gently tip his head back. I look over Lane. He's just scared to death with a red mark on his chest from his seatbelt.

"One day. You couldn't keep it together for one effin' day," Red grumbles.

"Red," El warns, looking at my face.

"That's all I ask. For you two to just keep it together for one damn-"

"Red!" I bark, cutting him off. He jumps slightly, looking over at me. "That's enough," I growl. He nods.

We pull up at Aunt Mary's house, and she flies out of the house, Lane's older brother Christian behind her. I step out, and Lane slides out of the truck. Aunt Mary wraps him in a big hug.

"Are you boys alright? I just heard over the scanner that you were in a wreck," she says.

How'd she know it was us? Oh yeah, Uncle Rick worked the wreck. "We're fine. Bud isn't though. Axle broken, lights smashed, who knows where the hitch is, and the tailgate's all warped to hell and back. But the most we suffered was a broken nose. So, we're good," I reply. She sighs.

"What does it look like?" Chris asks.

I lead him over to the trailer. Uncle Rick offered to call a wrecker, but I decided to let Chris fix it. He's a master at fixing cars and trucks. I'd trust him with any vehicle I own. He'll have it fixed in a few weeks, at the most two months. He stands at the foot of the trailer, his jaw slack.

"Holy shit, dude!" he exclaims. Unfortunately, his mom hears.

"Christian Adam Rivers! Language!" she yells from the other side of Red's truck. He turns bright red.

"Hey, Chris. When can you have this fixied?"

"Hmm. Depends on how screwed to hell this is. Two months at the most?" Told you.

"Christ. . ." his mom calls in warning.

I laugh. We talk a while before dropping the Silverado at his shop. The first thing he does is lay under the bed to evaluate the damage. He whistles. I laugh as I walk away. He has a lot of work to do.

%*%

Mom is on us the moment we're in the door, just like her sister. I leave, saying I'm walking to Thalia's and leaving my brothers prey to our interrogative mother. She's worse than the FBI when she wants info.