S toney swore by all he held holy, if one more person texted him with an emergency this morning….
Between Ty’s shitty timing, Ford’s lies, the exploding water heater in cabin four, and Quartz’s meltdown, Stoney was going to kill something.
“I’m sorry, boss.” Alanna sniffled, cheek bright red. “I…. He….”
“He knows better, and he’s damn lucky I don’t take him behind the house and whip his ass!” Stoney made sure Quartz heard him. He’d never spanked the boy in anger in his whole life, but the threat seemed to be a fine deterrent, and he’d be damned if he raised a son that hit a girl.
“I didn’t mean to!”
“Didn’t mean to throw the fucking book and pop Miss Alanna in the face? How exactly do you do that by accident? Seriously, educate me. I’m dying to hear this.”
“Daddy!” Quartz had that look. The one that said meltdown, but Stoney wasn’t having it.
“Alanna, can you give us a minute?”
“Absolutely. I’m going to grab a bite for lunch, okay?”
“Totally. You’ll come back to a body or an apology, one or the other.”
She chuckled, but stifled it fast. Yeah. This had to be serious.
Quartz sighed, shoulders hunching. “I didn’t mean to hit her.”
“What did I tell you about throwing things?”
“Not to.”
“And you did it anyway.”
“I was mad!” Quartz shouted.
“I don’t give a shit how mad you are, you don’t get to throw things at girls. You want to fight with someone, you come fight with me.”
“I wouldn’t fight with you, Daddy! You’re bigger than me!”
“The best thing is not to fight at all.” Unless you were talking about that fuck monkey Ford. That was a fight more than ten years in the making, and it had felt like heaven to pop that motherfucker in the face. What? Stoney didn’t have to be fair. This was a do as I say, not as I do situation.
“I was so mad.” Quartz’s lip began to quiver. “Why does Grandpa have to go?”
“Because he’s sick and the dialysis is there. If he doesn’t get treatment, he will die, no question. He wants you to come for some time before Christmas and this summer.” It wasn’t as if he hadn’t explained this, over and over.
“I hate that he’s sick, Daddy. I don’t want Uncle Ford. I want Grandpa.”
“I hate that he’s sick too, but there’s nothing we can do about that. All living things have to die, and this is a part of that.”
“Why?”
“It’s God’s way.” It was a pat answer, but it was the one he understood.
“I hate God sometimes.”
“Me too.” At Quartz’s surprised look, Stoney shrugged. “What? I ain’t perfect, boy. I’m just a cowboy getting along best I can. Sometimes my heart is so mad at things I cain’t hardly bear it.”
“So what do you do, Daddy?”
“You have faith, son. You have faith that there’s a plan that’s bigger than us.”
Quartz came to him, grabbed him tight and squeezed. “I love you, Daddy. I’m so tired in my heart.”
“Yessir. Me too. Tired to stupidity.” He petted Quartz’s curly dark hair. “Still, we got each other, you and me, and we got this whole thing, right?”
“We have horses.” Quartz brightened at that. “Can we go ride?”
“No, sir. Not until we think about what you’re going to do to make up to Miss Alanna.”
“Yeah. I was bad. I’ll draw her a picture, and then I’ll be the best for my lessons this afternoon, okay?”
“I think that’s a good start, son.” Thank God for a boy who was basically a good’un.
“Then maybe we can ride after your meeting?”
“We’ll see what Miss Alanna says, I guess.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy. You want to make peanut butter sandwiches with me for lunch?”
“I do!” Quartz could be distracted by peanut butter in almost any situation. Stoney used it without shame.
By the time sandwiches were eaten, Alanna was back, and Quartz was all over himself apologizing.
“Thank you, Quartz. Geoff sent you an oatmeal Scotchie.”
“Oh. Can I have it, Daddy?”
“Have it for your snack, huh? Before we ride?”
“Yessir.” Quartz hugged him, clearly ready to move on.
“I got to hustle, y’all. Have a better afternoon.”
“We will, boss. Thank you.” Alanna closed the door behind him so he could concentrate on steeling himself for Ford.
Okay, he would not hit the son of a bitch. He would just stand there, listen, and leave. No temper tantrums. He wasn’t nine like his kid.
Ford got his goat, for sure.
Still, telling Ty he was a drunk. Shit. The man deserved it.
Stoney took a deep breath before he knocked on the door to Ty’s office. Which was Ford’s now.
“Come on!” Ford said.
The urge to snarl “yes, boss” was huge, but Ford was right in that. He wasn’t anyone’s employee. So he ducked inside, noting that Ford had cleaned off the extra chair, the files stacked on the floor instead.
“Have a seat.” He hesitated, and Ford sighed. “Come on, seriously. Shut the door and take a chair so we can talk.”
The man sported what was going to be one hell of a bruise in the morning. The sight gave Stoney a tiny spurt of happy.
Ford swiveled to face Stoney, his long-sleeved T-shirt and faded jeans a surprise. Not buttoned up at all.
Interesting.
He sat, his back creaking and popping all the way down.
“Long morning?” Ford didn’t sound sarcastic or mean, so Stoney figured the question was polite interest.
“Yes, sir. I’ve had better.”
“Me too.” Ford rubbed his bruised face. “Look, I owe you an apology. I should never have told Ty you were a drunk.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have. I wasn’t even a heavy drinker back in school.” That had come out of left field and made him so mad he’d seen red.
“Every time I see you, you look hung over. You don’t eat either. I just figured you were hitting the sauce.”
What was he supposed to say? He worked hard, long hours, and he was tired.
Ford shrugged. “Whatever I thought, I was wrong. So I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” Stoney could forgive some things. He was a good guy, right?
“Good, because we have a good bit to talk about.” Ford turned back to the computer to call up a program.
Yippee.
He leaned back and waited. That he knew how to do.
“Okay, so in order to renew the BLM, I had to put in an updated land-use plan.”
He knew that. He’d written up one that had been rejected already.
“I put in for horses, including the mustangs, since Ty says that’s your real love, as well as hunting, as I know that pays bills.” Ford highlighted shit on a pie chart.
He nodded. It wasn’t his favorite job, but it paid.
“This is fallow land that we agree to rotate.”
“I’m all for land I don’t have to stress over.”
“Right, because the rest is going to cause you stress.” Ford clicked on the biggest piece of the pie.
He forced himself not to change expressions, to stay stony, pun intended.
“You ready?” Ford gave him a sideways look, a half grin that made him work hard not to smile back.
“I was born ready.” Ready and tired.
“Well, I think the ranch has a real shot at being a sort of… retreat. An event destination. That’s a real catchword right now. Destination vacations, destination weddings.”
He had to give Ford an incredulous look. Had to. Seriously? Here? An event destination? They couldn’t fucking book the redneckiest wedding party ever. The periodic photo hunt? Sure. But a destination?
Shit.
“What? We’re close to Glenwood and Aspen. The airport in Junction has more direct flights now than ever. People want authentic ranch experiences mixed with glamping.” Ford warmed visibly to the subject.
Glamping?
Did Ford just say glamping?
Seriously?
“Does it speak, or do you have to wind it up first?”
“Don’t make me hit you.” Again.
“I never make anyone do anything.” Ford brought up another spreadsheet. “This is the market share of resort vacations for Glenwood Hot Springs. Then there’s a couple of dude ranches in the Roaring Fork.”
“We’re not a dude ranch.” Hell, he had to fight Ty to run as many horses as he did.
“No, but we could really work the riding angle. Photographers, weddings, team building. I think you could do way more with the riding horses than you do, really expand that part of the operation. Maybe see what Hetty is willing to do with wagons and hayrides with her Belgians.” Ford spread his hands. “Hunting is still good for the ecosystem, but it’s become a rich man’s game too. We can cater to the guys with more to spend but focus on ethical hunting so no one gets their nose out of joint.”
“What does that mean, for real?” Stoney followed all the rules, religiously, and stewardship was important to him. The good Lord trusted them with this land; it was on them to care for it.
“In cowboy terms, it means a lot of folks these days, including a few of the BLM managers, are falling out of love with guided hunts. Let’s face it, hunters get better weather and more chances at big bucks in Texas, where they can get up close.” Ford paused, head tilting like it always had when he was thinking hard. “It means I think we can really do better business by being utterly unique in this area.”
Right, because he was unique. Christ, how was he supposed to fit into this mess?
“I’m happy to let them loose, so long as we’re not held responsible for when someone fucks up.”
“Are we speaking the same language?” Ford wasn’t growling or anything. More seeming confused.
“I doubt it. I lead all the hunting parties around here, you know?”
“Right. You still would. I’m just saying that there’s this perception that guided hunts lead hunters to within ten feet of an elk, aim the gun, and let the guy pull the trigger.” Ford held up a hand. “I know better, but we have to distinguish ourselves from those outfits.”
“I’m fine with that.” That wasn’t cool. If you wanted to hunt that way…. Shit, he didn’t even have a then for that thought.
Ford nodded, his face relaxing. “Well, brace yourself. I want to do some advertising.”
“I’d chat with Miranda about that. She’s in charge of all the web and ad stuff along with the office.” He dealt with guests and horses and staff. That was his job, and he sort of loved it.
“Okay. Thing is, you need to know what I’m advertising. I want us to be inclusive, so I want to advertise in some gay magazines and newspapers.” Ford waited, expression carefully smooth.
“Is there a huge market for gay hunters?” That would be unexpected and more than a little hilarious. Not only that, but someone not him was going to have to tell Ty.
“Hell if I know. I mean as a wedding and retreat place. Geoff would bring them back year after year, and your horses would get all the work they need.” Ford chuckled, though, snorting a bit.
“Uh-huh, right. Look, I don’t want to be Debbie Downer, but you’re a rich gay guy, and you wouldn’t pay to come here, and it’s your family home.”
“I didn’t come home because you were here.” Ford sighed, a look of exaggerated patience on his face. “I was right. You hit me.”
Was Ford teasing him? Seriously. He searched Ford’s face, seeing nothing but laughter.
“And you didn’t even duck. That’s prob’ly a sign of deserving it.”
Ford snorted, green eyes dancing. “I figured you could have one after all these years.”
“Uh-huh. You’re going to bruise like a motherfucker. You’ll have to tell everybody you ran into a hoof.”
“Nope. I’ll tell them I have an abusive partner, and everyone will feel sorry for me.”
“Possibly. You never know with cowboys.” Angie was going to ride Ford’s ass for days.
“All of the cowboys know what really happened by now,” Ford said with absolute conviction. “No one will feel bad for me there.”
He had nothing to say about that. It was true. Ford had deserved an ass whipping for telling lies.
“So, are you willing to work with me on the concept? You seem pretty open.”
“I don’t see that anyone’s going to come here for some sort of fancy deal, but you want to put feelers out, go for it.” It wouldn’t change a thing about his life. Fancy-assed assholes—queer or not—wouldn’t show up to a place like this.
“Okay, cool. So, now we need to talk about accommodations.” Ford pulled up a budget chart. Holy shit, that was a lot of money.
“What’s all that for?” And where the fuck was it coming from?
“I want to renovate cabins three and four pretty extensively. I want to build two new cabins. The rest is for minor fixes, and then I want to take the old greenhouse and storage barn and turn it into an event building for receptions and meetings and such.” Ford was practically bouncing, clearly super excited.
Who is this guy?
Stoney shook his head. “How can we afford that? We’re running at thirty percent occupancy on good months. I ain’t laying folks off, man. No way.”
“You don’t need to. In fact, I project we’ll need two new housekeeping staff, a general assistant and two more part-time wranglers for trail rides and such. Geoff might need an assistant for off-site meals, as well. A camp cook.”
Just like that? Right.
“Where’s the money coming from?” Seriously. Stoney made payroll and his vet bills, but even the horse feed came out of his salary.
“I’ll be making the initial investment.” Ford held up a hand. “You know I do contract law, Stoney. I won’t fuck you on this, and if we make a profit, we’ll both share in it. Ty had every right to ask me for help over the years, and he didn’t. It’s my turn to put in some principal.”
So what? Ford was going to come in here and make this place the going thing because obviously he couldn’t? Christ on a crutch. Stoney hated this—hated having the rug pulled out from under him, over and over again in the place that was supposed to be home.
“You’re pissed. I can tell.” Ford sat back in the big desk chair, hands steepled in front of him, watching Stoney carefully. That’s what Ford did. Watched and waited and gauged reactions. Then he freaked out and ran after it was all over. Stoney reckoned it was the first half that made him a good lawyer.
Good thing one of the things that made Stoney a cowboy was the ability to sit still and just let the world pass him by. That he had down to a science.
“Come on, Stoney. Talk to me. Just once in your life, say something out fucking loud.”
“I feel like y’all are planning shit to phase me out.”
“Y’all who? Ty?” Ford raised an eyebrow. “Trust me. He’s not sharing his plans with me either.”
Yeah, right. Because everyone just came up with a plan like this out of the blue. The thought that maybe everyone else did snuck in before he even opened his mouth. Maybe other people could just fix things. “Well, I’m sorry you got stuck working with me.”
He had Quartz, though, and he couldn’t just walk away.
“Stoney, I need you to stop. Right there. Stop acting like you’ve given up and are ready to fail. We can make this place somewhere Ty and Quartz can both count on to support them. I know we can.”
“I haven’t given up on dick. I’ve been working my ass off for the last ten years.”
“Then why are you sitting there with your teeth in your mouth looking like you lost your last horse? I liked it better when you were hitting me.” Ford grimaced, and Stoney almost knocked him winding.
“Sorry. I just….” Shit, he didn’t fucking know what the hell was up with the whole motherfucking world.
“Okay.” Ford reached out and touched his shoulder, and he’d be damned if electricity didn’t shoot down his arm, just like the first time they’d ever met. “Okay, you’re right. I need to give you time to process everything.”
“Yeah. I’m going to get some work done, blow some dust out, you know?”
“Sure.”
He wanted to scream, to ask if Ford had hit his head when he fell. What was going on here?
A gay destination resort? All this shit? Stoney just….
God, he wanted to go home. Except this was the only place he knew to call that anymore, and he couldn’t even breathe here.
He stood up and headed out the door, going straight for the barns and the horses that were waiting for him. They always needed care, and they always made sense.
Ford, he didn’t get at all.