Tartan Two-Step by Grace Burrowes

Author:Grace Burrowes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Grace Burrowes Publishing
Published: 2017-05-14T00:00:00+00:00

“Where are you going?” Shamus’s question came out more sharply than he’d intended, but Patrick merely shrugged off his hand.

“Out to the shop. Maybe do some sketching.”

After Bridget and Magnus had left for the vet clinic, Patrick had gone up to his bedroom, shut the door, and not been seen for three hours. Now he was preparing to waltz out the front door and very likely embark on a dedicated drinking binge.

“You haven’t apologized to Lena for squashing her kitten, Patrick. How can hiding in the shop be more important than that?” Though if Patrick was drawing anything, that was a good sign.

“For your information, baby brother, Lena is busily drawing three-legged kittens, along with a few unicorns. They look like horses to me, but she says they’re unicorns who had to have their horns removed at the vet clinic. They still have their magic powers, as it turns out.”

Patrick jammed his hat onto his head. Shamus knocked it off before Patrick could get a hand on the doorknob. “You didn’t apologize to that kid when you nearly stomped her kitten to death.”

Patrick was sober, Shamus would have bet his favorite pair of ski boots on that, but Patrick was also different. Shamus was terrified that difference was a bad thing, an even worse thing than Patrick’s growing affection for the bottle.

Patrick looked at the cowboy hat sitting upside down on the great-room carpet. “All righty, Shamus. Let’s do this. We’re overdue, after all.”

In the next instant, Shamus was on his ass on the carpet, six-feet-plus of older brother trying to wrestle him onto his back. The great room was the best place to roughhouse, because there was space enough and the furniture was sturdy.

A bolt of sheer, animal glee punctured Shamus’s ire, because Patrick was right: They were way, way overdue for a wrestling match.

Patrick had had the advantage of surprise, but Shamus called on months of pent-up rage, bewilderment, and worry to even the match. Years ago, Bridget had demanded a rule of them—never hit your brother with a closed fist—and no brother had ever violated that rule.

Shamus was grateful for old restraint, because he wanted to pound the crap—pound the grief—out of Patrick, along with the despair and the growing indifference to everything that mattered.

Patrick apparently had a few agenda items of his own. He’d grown bony since he and Shamus had last wrestled, but he was still quicker than a summer trout going after a fly.

“You apologize to Lena,” Shamus panted, gaining a momentary upper hand.

Patrick feinted, seeming to capitulate and then catching Shamus unaware as he escaped an almost-half-nelson. “I did, goshdangit. Told her I was sorry, and that only made her cry again. You’re the one who didn’t want to pay a few vet bills.”

True, and not something Shamus was proud of. “Maybe if you put your dad-blamed backside in the saddle from time to time, did something to earn your draw, those vet bills wouldn’t have been a problem.”

That provoked another round of scuffling, scraping, and knocking lights over.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.