Read Online Saving Axe (Motorcycle Club Romance, Cowboy, Military) (Inferno Motorcycle Club) by Sabrina Paige - Free Book Online
Authors: Sabrina Paige
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lowered my expectations when I married you.”
“Ass h - I mean, jerk,” she said, laughing as she pulled away from him and punched him on the arm.
“I heard that!” Mac yelled from the side of the porch where she was sprawled out, looking at a book. “Mommy said a bad word!”
“Nope, no bad words came out of mommy’s mouth,” April said. “Right, daddy?”
“Your wife is a quick learner.” My father interrupted, standing in the doorway, oven mitts over his hands. “I’ve been showing her how to make your mother’s apple pie recipe.”
I looked at Crunch. “My mother’s apple pies were famous. She won the West Bend Baking Contest four years in a row. Before - who was it, dad?”
“Before Martha Barnes took the title,” my father said. “Lord, your mother was upset. I had to hear about Martha Barnes for months after that.”
I grinned. “I remember that,” I said. “Mom was convinced she had somehow stolen her recipe. Remember? She said it was the ultimate betrayal.”
Dad laughed. “I remember. I listened to it non-stop.”
Mom had only been gone a few years, but it was hard talking about her, even if it was a good memory. Her death was tainted by the fact that, to the end, she thought I was someone I was not. She still thought I was a good person.
“You two look like you made some real progress out there on the fencing,” my dad said, interrupting me before I could sink lower into my own shitty self-pity.
“Yeah,” I said. “It should hold up for another couple years or so, as long as you can keep the elk from running through it again.”
I wanted to ask whether he was having trouble keeping up with the place. Of course, my dad would have a coronary if I even implied he needed help. He had always been the epitome of a cowboy. Strong, silent, tough.
My senior year in high school, just before I’d left for boot camp, my dad had a heart attack. We were at the end of a week long trip, pushing cattle. I looked at his face as we were riding back, his grey pallor unsettling. It was only when we were a couple hours away from home he admitted he'd been having having chest pain and numbness in his arm for the last half a day. When I suggested he get to the doctor, he’d told me he’d be just fine. It was my mother who’d insisted he go to the hospital when we got back. The doctor told him he was having a heart attack, and he’d told the doctor the heart attack would just have to wait.
The fact that he didn’t die only reinforced what I’d grown up believing about my dad - that he was invincible. Part of me believed the man would never die, which was probably what made it easier to leave West Bend when I did, and the way I did. I figured there would always be time to make amends.
"Alright, now," my father said. "I need to send someone to town for a couple things before dinner, and I'd like to take a look at your work on the fence, Cade, see if you remember your fence building skills." The edges of his mouth turned up.
"That's f unny, Pop," I said. "I think I remember how to build a fence."
"Can I go to the store?" MacKenzie asked, throwing herself against April. "Can I get some finger paints?"
"I don't know t hat there's a toy store here, baby," April said. She turned to Crunch. "Do you think we can go into town? There's a couple of things I want to get, too, actually."
Crunch looked at me. "What do you think, Axe? You think it's safe?"
"I thi nk it's probably okay," I said.
MacKenzie squealed. "He said I could get a new stuffed animal!" She spun in circles on the deck.
"Wait, wait," April said. "No one said you could get a new anything. Uncle Axe only said we could go into town."
"That means toys !"
"Wait -" I said, turning toward Crunch and April. "Lie low, in and out of the store. This is just a vacation, spending time with my father. That's it."
Crunch nodded. "Yeah, it's no
“Ass h - I mean, jerk,” she said, laughing as she pulled away from him and punched him on the arm.
“I heard that!” Mac yelled from the side of the porch where she was sprawled out, looking at a book. “Mommy said a bad word!”
“Nope, no bad words came out of mommy’s mouth,” April said. “Right, daddy?”
“Your wife is a quick learner.” My father interrupted, standing in the doorway, oven mitts over his hands. “I’ve been showing her how to make your mother’s apple pie recipe.”
I looked at Crunch. “My mother’s apple pies were famous. She won the West Bend Baking Contest four years in a row. Before - who was it, dad?”
“Before Martha Barnes took the title,” my father said. “Lord, your mother was upset. I had to hear about Martha Barnes for months after that.”
I grinned. “I remember that,” I said. “Mom was convinced she had somehow stolen her recipe. Remember? She said it was the ultimate betrayal.”
Dad laughed. “I remember. I listened to it non-stop.”
Mom had only been gone a few years, but it was hard talking about her, even if it was a good memory. Her death was tainted by the fact that, to the end, she thought I was someone I was not. She still thought I was a good person.
“You two look like you made some real progress out there on the fencing,” my dad said, interrupting me before I could sink lower into my own shitty self-pity.
“Yeah,” I said. “It should hold up for another couple years or so, as long as you can keep the elk from running through it again.”
I wanted to ask whether he was having trouble keeping up with the place. Of course, my dad would have a coronary if I even implied he needed help. He had always been the epitome of a cowboy. Strong, silent, tough.
My senior year in high school, just before I’d left for boot camp, my dad had a heart attack. We were at the end of a week long trip, pushing cattle. I looked at his face as we were riding back, his grey pallor unsettling. It was only when we were a couple hours away from home he admitted he'd been having having chest pain and numbness in his arm for the last half a day. When I suggested he get to the doctor, he’d told me he’d be just fine. It was my mother who’d insisted he go to the hospital when we got back. The doctor told him he was having a heart attack, and he’d told the doctor the heart attack would just have to wait.
The fact that he didn’t die only reinforced what I’d grown up believing about my dad - that he was invincible. Part of me believed the man would never die, which was probably what made it easier to leave West Bend when I did, and the way I did. I figured there would always be time to make amends.
"Alright, now," my father said. "I need to send someone to town for a couple things before dinner, and I'd like to take a look at your work on the fence, Cade, see if you remember your fence building skills." The edges of his mouth turned up.
"That's f unny, Pop," I said. "I think I remember how to build a fence."
"Can I go to the store?" MacKenzie asked, throwing herself against April. "Can I get some finger paints?"
"I don't know t hat there's a toy store here, baby," April said. She turned to Crunch. "Do you think we can go into town? There's a couple of things I want to get, too, actually."
Crunch looked at me. "What do you think, Axe? You think it's safe?"
"I thi nk it's probably okay," I said.
MacKenzie squealed. "He said I could get a new stuffed animal!" She spun in circles on the deck.
"Wait, wait," April said. "No one said you could get a new anything. Uncle Axe only said we could go into town."
"That means toys !"
"Wait -" I said, turning toward Crunch and April. "Lie low, in and out of the store. This is just a vacation, spending time with my father. That's it."
Crunch nodded. "Yeah, it's no
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