Wild Horses

Chapter 1

"Bryan, you home?" I called out as I heard the deadbolt lock rattle.

"Yeah." He groaned.

"You okay?" I asked as he loped into sight, favoring his left leg.

"Yeah, just sore. The coach made us run a scrimmage, to see what fresh meat he would get this year. It was tougher than I expected." He explained as he moved his shoulders from side to side trying to stretch.

"Need a back rub?" I asked him as he pulled one arm up and across behind his neck then the other continuing the stretch.

"Please. If you don't mind." He said and groaned as he took off his shirt.

He had a muscled chest that reminded me of hand-cut stone, but hey, I wouldn't know.

I had always been tough, and he sighed as I de-knotted his back.

"Ready for camp? I'm going to miss you." I said unable to hide the sadness in my voice.

"You ain't gonna miss me, trust me." He chuckled through clenched teeth as I continued to pound and knead out the kinks.

"I will." I whispered.

"You're my sister. You'll find...ah...some more...oww...interesting friends than your...gah...dumb old brother around here." He replied between groans and moans.

About twenty minutes later, I collapsed next to him on the couch.

"I'm beat."

"It's fine. You helped me so much. Although, you won't be able to do that when I'm away. Whatever shall I do?" He said in a mocking voice causing me to snicker.

"I don't mind, but my hands are cramping...I'm done too." I grunted as I opened and closed my hands to reestablish circulation."

He stood up abruptly, almost knocking me off the couch in the process.

"I'm gonna hit the sack early. I'm whooped." He said as he bent over and then side to side, stretching out his now relaxed muscles.

"But you haven't had dinner yet." I protested as I sat up.

"I'm fine. Not really hungry. Too tired to eat." He said.

"No, you're not. You need to eat to refuel." I said scolding him like a mother.

"Let me make you a sandwich. It'll only take a sec." I said as I got up and headed to the kitchen.

"Okay. Fine...mom." He mumbled as he limped off to his room.

I couldn't help but laugh at his attempt at being sarcastic.

I brought him a sandwich, which he ate in four bites, and he passed out before his head hit the pillow. I covered him up and whispered,

"Good night...son." He groaned in response and turned on his side. I playfully smacked head then headed back to the kitchen with his dirty plate.

Daddy was working late, and he always worried about his 16-year-old daughter. I was fine. I had friends, and Bryan, but he still worried about being gone for most of the day.

"Hey baby girl!" My daddy said as enthusiastically as he could muster, but the exhaustion was evident in his face. He was as tired as Bryan was. Like father, like son.

"Long day at work?" I asked as he bent over and kissed my cheek.

"You betcha, as always, sweetie." He answered with a warm smile as he headed to the shower.