“OH, CURTIS. I can’t believe you have to see me like this. I should be cooking you boys something good to eat, not laying in the bed like a laze….”
“Now, Miz Betty, you know it’s enough to just have a chat with you.”
Stetson listened to Momma talk to Curtis like the cowboy was her best friend, and tried not to feel jealous. What good would it do, really?
Curtis didn’t have to make her take her meds. Curtis didn’t have to sign the orders to restrain her when she lost her mind. Curtis didn’t have to be the bad guy.
Of course, that didn’t stop the little voice in Stetson’s head that insisted that Momma’d always wished Curtis was her son, that she’d given birth to the famous all-around cowboy instead of the staid, boring one.
It had been like that from the get-go. Curtis was pretty, was vibrant and hot.
When is your cowboy coming home? Do you think he’d like tamales? Are you going to go with him? You rope well enough.
Christ. Like he didn’t have to stay home, do his job, feed and pay bills and exercise horses. Like he hadn’t known that once Curtis had gotten back in the swing of things, he would find what he needed.
Eh. What did it matter now?
She was happy. That was what was important.
Happy and laughing and making jokes and knowing who Curtis was. That was a damned improvement by anyone’s standards.
“Well, it’s getting on to suppertime, Miz Betty. I ought to get on out of here and let you have some food.”
Curtis was patting Momma’s hand, and his mom was nodding, but mainly he thought she was nodding off.
“I have to run to the ranch tonight, Momma, but I’ll be back in the morning to see you.” He uncurled his fingers from the fists they’d become and bent to kiss her forehead.
She smiled up at him. “Are you bringing Curtis with you?”
“Now, Momma….” He couldn’t make those kinds of promises.
“I’ll come by one way or the other,” Curtis said. “I’ll stick around a couple days, at least.” How many magazine covers and news articles had seen that exact smile? Quite a few, if the stack in Stetson’s back room was any indication.
A couple of days. God, at three hundred a night, that was going to be the end of him. Were there cheaper places? Sure, but Curtis was used to better, not sleeping in an Army cot on the floor of the horse trailer. Christ, he didn’t know how—how was he supposed to survive this? The longer Momma was sick, the more his whole life was built on eggshells and clouds that couldn’t hold.
“Stetson, you should take Curtis out for a nice supper. It’s the least you could do, with Curtis coming home to visit, just on my account.”
“Sure, Momma.” A steak dinner. Right. Maybe if he sold his plasma.
“Silly boys, sneaking out to the barn all the time. You know, you could build a casita. Or you could go on the road with him. I always wanted to go on the road, but I got stuck at home. Where’s your daddy, Stetson? Is he going to bring me daisies?”
“Sure, Momma.” There was no use in arguing. He was too tired. “I’ll make sure and let him know.”
Curtis looked at him, all wide-eyed, and he stared right back. What the hell was he supposed to do? Let her lose her husband over and over? No fucking way.
Took them another half an hour to get out of the hospital, but Stetson didn’t wait much after that, lighting up as soon as they walked outside and drawing Curtis aside. “Look, I appreciate you wanting to stay, but I get it that you have to get back to work.”
“I can stay a bit.”
No. No, you really can’t, asshole. I’m fucking broke-dick, and I don’t know what to do next. I’m scared and tired, and you’re still beautiful, and I’m… lost. “I appreciate it, but—”
“No buts, Roper. Miz Betty asked me to stay. She seems way better today.”
“It’s not real.” He knew that. This whole thing wasn’t real. He was in a fucking nightmare that just kept battering at him, and there wasn’t any waking up in the morning happening for him.
“I know. I was just trying to make it better.” Oh, Curtis wasn’t allowed to do that, to be all long faced and hangdog. Not right now. Not when the only happiness he’d heard from his own momma in weeks had come from the man who had told him he’d never be buried to his balls in the dust like Stetson was. “You don’t have to be all pissy because she likes me, you know. You’ve always been a little bitch about that.”
He didn’t stop to think, not for a single second. His fist shot out, connecting with the son of a bitch’s jaw, and Curtis’s head popped back, then rocked forward.
“Okay, then.” Curtis landed a blow to his gut that almost doubled him over, then got him with a jab right in the nose.
Fuck, that stung like a bitch, and he landed a wild haymaker, damn near going ass over teakettle as Curtis answered with a couple of half-hearted rabbit punches to his kidneys in thanks. Stetson twisted and got his hands around Curtis’s hips and shoved, needing to put some space between them. They broke apart, both of them panting a bit, although he knew Curtis’s was more altitude than exertion.
“Your turn, Roper.”
“What?” He snuffled and snorted.
“We’re beating on each other, right? More in that working-out than a fixin’-to-kill-each-other way, sure, but still, we’re having a fight in public. Don’t embarrass me.” Curtis was a pure-D asshole, but the quirk of his lips made Stetson roll his eyes.
“Come on, fucker.”
“What? That’s all I get?”
“Yeah, you bastard. That’s all you get.” That’s all he had. Still, he could breathe, couldn’t he? Deep breaths that didn’t hurt so bad.
“You feel better, Roper?”
He didn’t bother to answer. Instead he simply shrugged, intending to tell Curtis to fuck right off. What came out was “I can’t afford the hotel more than maybe one more night.”
His cheeks burned at the words, and his pride took another blow, this one sharper than any fist. Curtis needed to know, though. Might as well start out like he could hold out.
Curtis pursed his lips. “I could stay at the ranch, if that won’t be a huge problem.”
“Yeah? If you don’t mind.” He had the trailer here to sleep in, and Curtis wouldn’t have to hold the hours he did, or baby his truck along. “I’m real sorry. I know it’s an inconvenience.”
“It’s fine, baby.” Curtis didn’t even acknowledge using the nickname. Asshole. “Shit, you know that drive is dick all to me.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you got all that highway mileage.” He managed to dig up a grin, and it came easier than he’d expected. “Come on. I’ll pick up a pizza on the way. You remember how to get there still?”
“I do.” Curtis nodded, reaching out to touch his arm. “You okay to drive? You were out like a light last night.”
“Yeah. I was…. It was a long day.” And to be honest, he didn’t remember even getting to the hotel. He’d been on autopilot. “I got to run and get my dirty clothes out of the trailer so I can do a load of laundry tonight.”
“Sure. If I get there before you, no one will shoot me, right?”
“Nope. The gate’s unlocked. The house key’s right where it always was. You want sausage and pepperoni on your pizza or are you being healthy right now?” Roughstock boys had to watch their weight, and Curtis was in fighting trim despite the green chile cheeseburger last night.
Curtis chuckled. “I’ll go with peppers and green olives.” After pulling out his wallet, Curtis handed over a twenty, his expression brooking no arguments.
He hated that he knew that it would help too. He was going to owe Curtis for the rest of his life.
Maybe longer.
That was okay. He sorta owed everyone on earth, from his neighbors to random people at the hospital.
The ones he had to worry about right now were the creditors. He was balls deep in owing and without a fucking thing to show for it. God, what a mess. “Veggies. Gotcha” was all he said, trying for a grin and probably failing. “See you at home.”
“I’ll be there.”
Stetson walked away, heading to the little horse trailer parked in the back of the hospital parking lot, trying to remember how to breathe. He gathered up his trash and his dirty clothes, leaving just his book and the cot and his blankets for tomorrow night.
Okay. He’d get on the road, order a couple of pizzas once he got about halfway there, and then head home to check the horses and pay a couple three bills.
Thank God he had a bed in his office at the house under a shitload of boxes. He cleaned that out, he could sleep there, and he wouldn’t have to share with Curtis. He’d passed out last night, but if he had to know Curtis was right there, well, Stetson wouldn’t be able to bear it. Part of him hated Momma for this, for making him have to deal with this.
A worse part of him was thankful for a second to pretend.
This whole thing was just…. Shit marthy, he needed to do something that wasn’t wrong for a while. The animals did that for him, calmed him down, made him serve someone else’s needs for a bit.
He checked the oil in his truck before starting her up and heading north.
Home.
God, it was time to go home for a night.