F ord held a notebook and his iPhone, taking pictures and making notes. The barns were in good repair, the main house an extravaganza waiting to happen. What needed all the work were the outbuildings that seemed suitable for Ford’s plan: the old bunkhouse, two large storage sheds, and then five or six guest cabins mostly used by hunters.
He could put in more cabins, maybe a pretty outdoor space for some events….
This place could be a showpiece. A prize, for fuck’s sake. The scenery was pristine, the views amazing, and damn it, he was going to make this work.
A gay-friendly meeting place, a rustic resort and event destination.
Ford glanced around, hoping his gleeful laugh didn’t sound nuts.
The woman who seemed to run the livestock and be Stoney’s second-in-command met his gaze, one eyebrow lifted.
Ford winked. “Good ideas make me happy.” Might as well start out like he could hold out.
“Good for you. You need something?”
“I’m just getting a feel for the improvements since I was here last.” Did she know he owned half the ranch? She was snappy.
“I’ve been here for eight years. You got questions, holler.”
The words were straightforward and probably not as acrimonious as Ford took them to be, so he kept his shoulders down, nodding easily. “Thanks. Are you the wrangler?”
“Yes, sir. Me and Stoney met at a rodeo event. I was riding safety, and he was impressed.”
“No shit? How did the guys know where to grab you?” He chuckled, hoping she took him like he meant it. Rodeo men could be downright terrified of a female in the arena.
“As butch as I am, I just wrapped my boobs. It made it easier.”
“There you go.” Ford pondered his notes. “How many guest horses do we have trained for trails and such right now?”
“Eleven. We’ve got a few that are trainable that we would ride, our personal mounts, and the packhorses.”
“What about the herd I saw on the way in? There were about twenty.”
Angie nodded. “Stoney’s mustang project. It’s in the land-use information.”
“I’ll look it up. Stoney chooses the stock, or do you?”
“We do it together. We know horse flesh, and my wife is a breeder.”
Man, she was leaving herself wide open for all sorts of bitchy gay jokes, but Ford pushed the words down. This wasn’t Santa Gay, and she didn’t deserve his growly.
Her dark gaze landed on him as heavy as a boulder, and he’d be damned if he didn’t feel like she was reading his mind.
“What’s her specialty?” Ford finally asked. “Quarter horses?”
“Belgians.”
Jesus. Those things were huge. Pullers, those beasts, and popular in Colorado, thanks to the Coors hitch. That could be a tourist draw.
“Does she compete with them?”
“Sometimes. Mostly she runs a breeding operation, but she has a four—and a six-hitch.”
“Nice.” Ford liked Angie a lot already. She was loaded for bear on not liking him, he could tell, but they’d do all right. God knew what Stoney had told her about him.
Obviously Stoney didn’t have a problem hiring the L in the rainbow. Hell, he guessed Stoney swung all ways. He’d had no problem giving it up for Ford, then turning around and giving it to Brittany. His mouth tightened. “Anything else I should know about the horse operation?”
“What’s to know? The yearlings are gorgeous. We have a three-year-old that’s coming into her own. We’re not interacting with the mustangs unless they need medical care.”
“All good to know.” The mustangs needed to be moved to a higher pasture, then. They could survive harder winter conditions, and more guests meant too much interaction.
The sound of Garth singing about rodeo sounded, and Angie grabbed her phone. “Excuse me. Hey, baby. Yeah? No, I’m gonna be home for supper tonight. Pizza’s fine.”
Pizza sounded amazing, in fact. Huh. Maybe Ford would run in to…. Damn. Beau Jo’s had closed in Glenwood. So had Marshall Dillon’s, which he’d loved as a kid.
No fucking fair. Maybe that Geoff kid could make a good crust.
He waited for Angie, because it was polite, lifting a hand when she hung up. “Thanks for letting me pick your brain.”
“No worries. Have a good one, man.”
Ford nodded and headed for the kitchen at the main house, the idea of a thick crust mountain-ish pie a sudden obsession.
The big kitchen was in the back with its own door so no one had to interrupt either Ty or Stoney. That also allowed access to the grill and the smoker, and a separate fire exit as well. Smart design.
The place had changed, that was for sure, and he had to admire Ty for that. It was easy to let things stagnate. For all he knew, Stoney was the one behind it, but Ty could easily have dug in and said no.
Something amazing hit his nose when he walked into the kitchen, strong and spicy. Indian food, maybe.
Geoff was dancing, rocking back and forth, singing at the top of his lungs. Now, Ford had no idea what Geoff was singing—Tibetan throat songs, maybe.
When Geoff saw Ford, he winked, then hit the big finale note. Boom. Oh, very nice.
Ford applauded, and Geoff took a bow.
“Thank you. I’m here all day. What’s up, new bossman?”
“I want a pizza. A thick, cheesy, amazing pizza.”
“Hmm.” Geoff put his hands on his hips and looked Ford over. “Chicago thick? Sicilian?”
“Colorado mountain pie.”
“Ahhhh.” Geoff rolled his eyes and smacked his lips before walking to the pantry so he could tug out flour and yeast, sugar and honey. “I see where we’re going. What do you like on?”
“Yes. I like it all.” Pepperoni, sausage, hamburger, onions, peppers, olives—all of it.
“Coolios. Side dishes? I can’t really justify the salad bar in the bathtub, but I do have a wicked selection of pickled veg.”
Geoff was kind of a hoot.
“Just feed me something that is better than sex, man.”
Geoff pulled a face. “Food is always better than sex, because food doesn’t let you down if you prep well.”
“Man, that’s deep.” And sad.
“Mmm. I have hidden layers. I had a chef in France tell me I loved like an artichoke. A leaf for many, a heart for one. He just wasn’t it.”
“I’m more like a—”
“Pineapple.” Stoney walked through, grabbed a sandwich from a platter, and kept going. “The smell ain’t bad, and he’s juicy enough, but you sure don’t want him near your tender bits when he’s mad.”
Then the little son of a bitch kept walking.
Geoff burst out laughing, the sound bouncing off the walls.
Ford had to grin. “Man, he didn’t leave me any opportunity for a comeback, did he?”
“That’s not how he zings—he walks in, drops a bomb, then walks out.”
“Huh. He used to be scared to engage at all.”
“I’d say disinterested more than scared. I’ve seen him stare down a pack of armed guys without so much as a blink.”
“What? When?” Alarmed, he turned to stare at Geoff.
“He guides hunters. You don’t think they can get aggressive when they don’t get what they want?”
“That sounds like hell on earth.” If nothing else, that whole idea told Ford he was going the right direction. “How’s your catering?”
“Exceptional. I’m not doing that right now, though. Right now I’m making pizza.”
“I know.” Ford rooted through the fridge so he could grab a cream soda. “Is this spoken for?”
“Nope. We’re pretty free and easy here. There’s enough for everyone.”
“Thanks.” He pulled up a stool, because Geoff was the first person today to look upon him without the evil fish eye, so Ford thought he would bask in it a bit.
Three huge pizza pans landed on the counter. Clang. Clang. Clang. “Did you ever meet Desiree Masters?”
“Uh.” Ford blinked a moment, the question such a non sequitur that it threw him. “She was my cousin’s bestie, I think.”
“Yeah. Good memory. She’s my sister.”
“No shit?” Oh, God. A thousand thoughts tore through him, chief of which was Stoney and Brittany, just as always. Why? How? What the hell? “How’s she doing?”
“Good. She’s married to a soldier, has seven kids.”
“Wow, really? Seven.” Damn. Somehow he’d never seen any of Brit’s friends settling down and getting off the river.
“I know, right? No river in Fort Hood.”
“No kidding.” He chuckled, the questions trying to batter their way out. Not about Geoff’s sister, but about Stoney. The yeast Geoff mixed with warm water began to work, the smell comforting.
Geoff seemed perfectly at peace in the warm kitchen, like there was a place for a man-bun hippie type in cowboy country. Ford guessed there was if the pizza turned out as good as it began.
Geoff filled all three pans with dough once it rose, and Ford was surprised to find himself still sitting there, drinking coffee and munching a bowl of spiced nuts.
The man was a surprisingly decent conversationalist, knowing a little about damn near everything.
Ford managed not to ask about Stoney for about forty-five minutes. A quick Alfredo went on one pizza, a pesto on one, and red sauce on the third.
Then Geoff grinned at him. “You’re killing me. You might as well ask what you really want to.”
He went for innocent, because he really wasn’t that transparent, was he?
Geoff laughed, the sound bouncing off the cabinets. “Man, lawyers should always look like wolves, not sheep.”
“Ah-ooo!” he howled, letting that break the tension a little bit.
A snort of laughter followed, Geoff bleating like a cattleman’s wooly nightmare. Lord. He could like this guy.
“He’s a good boss, you know, and a great dad. I take it the breakup was bad?”
“You mean me and him?” Ford nodded slowly. “He stayed here, and I left. Then he hooked up with my cousin and had a baby. No recovering from that.” The hurt he still felt surprised him. Ford had spent years thinking he was too angry and jaded to be emotional about Stoney, but deep down he was still a confused college kid when it came to Mr. Texas.
“I. Yeah. Yeah, that could be weird.” Geoff had the strangest look on his face for a second. “I mean, I can’t imagine.”
Ford shook it off. “Yeah. It sounds petty, because I love Brit, but I never came back until now.”
“No judgment, man. I’m not into that. Things happen for a reason.”
“You think so, huh?” He breathed deep when Geoff slid the pizzas into the big double ovens. “If I’m bugging you, holler.”
“I love company. I get lonely in here.”
“Then I’ll hang out a bit.” Ford would never have said he was lonesome; he talked to a dozen people a day. He was, though. He knew it now.
People wandered in and out of the kitchen, stealing a cookie here and a cup of coffee there, taking a hug from Geoff and offering him tentative smiles. Ford smiled and nodded and nibbled the antipasto Geoff whipped together.
Quartz came in with a young lady who was only about an inch taller than him.
“Hey, Alanna,” Geoff said, and Ford assumed this was the teacher.
“Good afternoon.” She gave Geoff a smile, then nudged Quartz’s shoulder. “Who is this nice young man, Quartz?”
“Uncle Ford. He’s not really my uncle.”
“Ford Nixel,” Ford said, holding out a hand. “Quartz and I are actually cousins, but I reckon we’re of an age for him to call me uncle.”
“Mr. Nixel. I’m Alanna Gosfield, the resident tutor.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Is there pesto with feta?” Quartz sniffed the air.
“You know it. Alfredo for your dad and Doogie and red sauce for this guy and me.”
“I like pesto and feta, very much. Thank you. Can I help make salads?”
“You may.” Geoff set Quartz to chopping with a weird glass vegetable knife, leaving Ford with Alanna.
“It’s nice to meet you. You’re Mr. Ty’s nephew?”
“I am. He called me and asked me to come have a look around.” Ford kept his tone light and watched Quartz with half his attention.
“That’s lovely. I’m sure you’ll have fun while you’re here.”
Quartz focused on the task at hand, totally uninterested in his surroundings, in the company. The little boy didn’t look a thing like Stoney, or Brittany either, to be honest.
“I’m sure I will. Used to love it here.” He stifled his sigh. He could love it again, damn it.
“Well, it’s a beautiful place.” Alanna patted his arm. “Do you have children?”
“No.” He gave her a sideways glance. “You?”
“Not yet.”
What the heck did that mean? He checked out her ring finger, then realized he could be giving the wrong impression. Really, he was just nosy.
He was the queerest man in Western Colorado, for fuck’s sake.
She chuckled. “No, I am not married, but I do have a long-term guy.”
“Nice.” Geoff winked at them. “I am single, though.”
“Are you?” Ford asked.
“And he’s gay. He only dates boys,” Quartz pronounced.
“Yep. I like ’em big and hairy.” Geoff twirled.
Was this really happening?
“Why?” Quartz asked.
“Because everyone has a type. You’ll grow up to find yours.”
“Is it okay if I like girls?” Quartz glanced at Ford, looking uneasy. “Dad likes boys, and Angie likes girls, but I think I like girls.”
“That is perfectly okay,” Ford said. “You love who you love.”
Wait. Dad likes boys? What the ever-loving fuck?
“He’s right,” Alanna said. “In this day and age there’s no way anyone can tell you who to care for. You can like boys and girls, if you want.”
“Yeah.” Geoff gave them all an arch look. “Just remember there are some folks who don’t believe that, and sometimes you have to be careful.”
“Some people are bigots.” Quartz wrinkled his nose.
“Yep. They’re taught that way from birth.” Ford liked these people, damn it.
“That’s stupid, huh, Geoff?”
“Yessir.”
Lord, this kid needed some social skills. Still, while he didn’t look like Brittany at all, he reminded Ford a lot of her.
“Where’s Daddy?”
“He’s probably working, Quartz,” Alanna said.
“Can I go tell him lunch is almost ready?”
“Wash your hands,” Geoff said. “What kind of dressing?”
“Ranch. Everyone is obsessed with my hands.”
“Kids have gross hands,” Stoney said, walking right in and heading to the sink without a glance at Ford. “Smells amazing.”
“Pizza.”
“I do not have gross hands, Daddy!”
“Yep. Covered in funk and foul. I’m surprised anyone grows to adulthood.” The tease was easy, gentle, and Quartz laughed happily and then hugged Stoney tight. As soon as Quartz touched him, Stoney squealed. “Eew! Boy germs!”
Ford chuckled, drawing a surprised glance from Stoney.
He shrugged. It was cute, and Stoney was a great dad, obviously.
And into boys, his son said. The ridiculous flare of hope that gave Ford made him feel like the biggest fool on earth. No fool like an old one, right?
Stoney went to sit at the farthest edge of the table from him, next to Alanna, nodding to her, to the rough-looking cowboy sitting with her.
Yeah. Idiot. Ford would have just left, but Geoff was making this pizza because of him.
The wrangler, Angie, wandered in with another woman who wore flannel and jeans and boots. “Thanks for texting, Geoff. Smells so much better than Totino’s.”
“Anytime.”
“Hetty!” Stoney stood up, and the little butch woman headed right over and gave Stoney a hug.
“How’s that new yearling settling in? You being good to her?”
“Shit, yes. We’ll go look after lunch.”
“Good deal. Who’s this?” Hetty asked.
Ford stood to shake hands. “Ford Nixel.”
“Ah. You’re the lawyer. I’ve heard tell of you.” She shook, and it was like shaking hands with a trucker. Christ.
Ford grinned, trying not to roll his eyes. “I did grow up on the ranch, though. I hear you breed horses.”
“I do. Mostly Belgians, but I supply these hooligans with what they need.”
“We need to chat.” Ford ignored Stoney’s grim expression.
“Sure. Holler when you and the boss got a minute.”
Ford looked at Stoney, who nodded reluctantly. Progress. Woo-hoo.
He didn’t miss for a second that Hetty made her position on who the boss was crystal clear either. Ford did wonder if she’d been that way with Ty too. He’d have to ask.
Geoff pulled pizzas out of the oven, then began cutting the thick, crunchy crust. Ford’s mouth watered. Oh, God, look at that. The smell of cheese and basil and peppery meat was fucking perfect.
Geoff dished up, the perfect two pieces per person, one for the kiddo, with salad. Damn. The crust had this buttery thing going on…. Yum.
He thought about just dying of pure bliss. Also, he considered stealing Geoff away as his own private chef.
Nah. He’d need the man for the kinds of guests he wanted to bring in. He’d just have to eat at the ranch often.
Still, it was good to know Geoff could please the most discerning palate. The crunch when he bit into the pizza made him grunt happily, the cheese stringing off when he pulled the slice away from his mouth. The first few minutes had nothing but munching and crunching, then the soft buzz of chatter—mostly Quartz’s—began.
Ford felt a momentary pang of guilt for intruding on this group, so obviously a family, so clearly not his. He stood abruptly, mumbling an apology, and left the room, needing to be somewhere else.
Geoff was almost immediately right there. “Was the pizza not right, honey? I can try again.”
Ford looked down at his hands, which were pizza-less. “I was just going to take it to eat in the office. I forgot it, huh? It’s amazing.” God, he was turning into a blithering idiot. He did that, according to all of his exes. Well, all the ones he talked to. He freaked out and ran.
“Uh-huh. You know, it’s cool. You don’t know anyone anymore. It’s okay to feel wigged.”
“I used to live here. What happened? I don’t even know anymore.” Ford laughed harshly. “The pizza is epic, though.”
“Shit, man. Life happens to the best of us.” To his utter shock, Geoff grabbed him and hugged him, held him tight, like they were friends.
He hugged back, just starved enough for a little comfort to go for it.
Geoff held on, letting him breathe and calm himself down before letting go. “I’ll bring you your pizza, dude.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” And that was no bullshit.
“No worries.” Geoff sent him off and arrived a few minutes later with his pizza, salad, and a plate of peanut butter cookies.
“You rock, man.”
Geoff nodded. “I do. Totally. Holler if you need anything. Text me.” Geoff scribbled a number on the blotter on Ty’s desk.
“Thanks. I will.” He might just surprise himself by texting Geoff sometime soon.
“Good deal.” Geoff grinned at him, eyes warm and friendly and genuine as hell. “Supper is at six thirty. I’m making lasagna, and there’s ice cream sundaes for dessert.”
“I’ll be there unless you think it will drive everyone away.” He chuckled. “If you think I will, I’ll take it in here.”
“You’ll be fine, man. You can’t be part of the family if the family doesn’t know you.”
“Right.” Yeah, because everyone wanted him to fit right in. Ford winked, knowing it had to be a little lame.
“Trust me, man. It’s going to get better.”
“Thanks.” He needed to get back to work and quit feeling sorry for himself.
Being here was…. Maybe it was more than he could cope with. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the air in the office scented with garlic and cheese now.
The pizza really was epic.
Stoney wandered through the hallway about twenty minutes later, mail in hand. “Ty wanting me to leave the business mail for you?”
“I’d like to go over anything with you that I need to learn.” There. That was neutral, right? “And I definitely need to see any taxes and such.”
Stoney shrugged. “I’m not sure I got anything I can teach you, so far as the business goes, but holler if you got questions, and I’ll find you someone who can answer.”
“You know the ranch better than me.” He studied Stoney carefully, trying to see the college boy he’d known in the man.
“You’ll remember. It hasn’t changed much.” Stoney looked tired, unhappy, and Ford had to wonder whether the lines around the man’s mouth had appeared when he had.
“The house looks good.” Inane, but true. The new wing was amazing from the outside, at least.
“It does. Quartz loves it. He doesn’t remember being anywhere else.”
“Was he somewhere else?” Ford had to admit he was damned curious.
“Sure. He lived with his mom until she died. She had a condo in Carbondale. Closer to the tourists.”
“Oh.” Ford frowned. “You didn’t live with her?”
“Nope. I lived in the bunkhouse like everyone else.”
“Why?” It popped out, and Ford waved a hand. “Sorry. None of mine.”
Stoney gave him a weird look, totally confused. “It ain’t a secret.”
“I thought you two were a thing.” Now Ford was really frowning.
Stoney rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because I’m going to… whatever. Holler if you need me. I got to exercise horses if we ain’t gonna have folks to do it.”
“Hey, what am I supposed to think? You tell me to shove off, and then you’re having a kid with my cousin?”
“I guess you think just what you think, man. That’s fine with me.”
“God, you’re still fucking infuriating.” Ford shook his head, his anger still right below the surface when it came to Stoney, shocking him.
“I’m no different than I ever was, Ford. I’m just a cowboy.”
“You—” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. Is it going to be a problem if I come to dinner? I don’t want to upset the routine.”
“Ford, it’s your fucking ranch. You got controlling interest. If you don’t want me there, I’ll beg off for a day or two, but you ain’t going nowhere, and I have a little boy to raise. Get over it.”
Ford stared at Stoney, absolutely certain he’d never even known this man. “I wasn’t asking you to beg off. I just want to be able to eat supper without feeling as if I’ve driven everyone away.” He was fucking trying to be nice.
“Fair enough.” Stoney watched him like a hawk.
“Yeah.” His head was starting to pound. “I miss her, you know. Brit.”
“She was a damn good friend, but the river owned her, body and soul.”
“It did.” That they could agree on. Brittany had loved the river beyond all things. Ford burned with questions he didn’t ask. A friend. Did friends have kids together?
“I got to hustle. No rest for the wicked.”
“Sure. See you at supper.” He needed to start out like he could hold out, and he and Stoney had to put on a single front for the guests once they began arriving.
“Uh-huh.”
Laconic asshole.
Ford watched Stoney leave, then shook his head. This situation was going to test his last nerve.
Good thing he was… shit, he didn’t know. The nerviest guy he knew? The man with the most nerves. Whatever.
He just needed to get his shit together and figure out what to do.
That was easier said than done, especially when he felt totally out of place. He’d figure it out. That was his other magic power. Ford got shit done.