CURTIS WISHED he’d been able to ride in with Stetson, but the damned fool had left him in bed, a note on the bathroom mirror.
“Cereal on the counter. Hot water heater works good now. Feel free to bring sausage biscuits.”
He shook his head, grinned at the stubborn fool. Stetson made him absolutely crazy. As if he would rather sleep in than be there. He wasn’t lazy, and Stetson knew it. Someone was running from him.
His phone rang, Miles Bend’s name showing up.
“Yo! Buddy!”
“Where the fuck are you, CT? You okay?”
“Yeah. Had a friend having a family emergency, so I stopped in to help out.”
“Anything we can do?” Oh, Miles was a damn good friend.
“Not right now. I’ll let you know.” He needed to get to the hospital, so he headed out to his rental, grabbing a protein bar out of his bag. Cereal was too much sugar. He needed nuts and a tiny touch of honey.
“Good deal. Stay in touch.”
“I will. Hey, who won Dallas?” Curtis asked.
“Nate. He’s on a wee hot streak. Asshole.”
“Yeah.” Curtis chuckled. “I’m going to kick his butt at the Finals.”
“You know it. I expect you to take the whole shebang.” Miles had his back.
“I’d better. I put too much time in this season not to.” Curtis hopped in the truck and went hands-free with the phone.
“No shit on that. So where the hell are you? I mean, I know you said helping a friend, but where? Texas?”
“Santa Fe.” He winced a little, waiting for Miles to question him.
“Santa Fe? Like as in the place where you look for Stetson every time you ride?”
“Yeah.” He sighed, hating that the reason for him being here was so bad. “His momma is real sick.”
There was a pause and then a sigh in return. “Man, that sucks. I’m sorry. Can we do anything?” Miles asked again.
“I don’t think so, buddy. She’s got Alzheimer’s. I’d say she’s going into the last stage soon. She don’t remember that me and Stetson ain’t seen each other in a while.” The thought turned his stomach, made a lump lodge in Curtis’s throat.
There was a long pause, then, “I’ll say a prayer that it’s easy as it can be. I know that’s a hard row to hoe.”
“It is. I hate to see her like this, but she was damned tickled to see me.” Anything he could do to make it better.
“Well, you’re a good guy, that’s for sure.” Miles’s voice dropped. “How’s he looking, your ex?”
“Skinny. Tired.” Beautiful. Still the best thing Curtis had ever seen in his whole life.
“Ah. Well, that’s a thing, I guess.”
What the hell did that even mean? Maybe it was just one of those things folks said when they didn’t know what to say. Curtis chuckled. “Yeah. I’ll holler at you if I need you, buddy, I promise.”
“Keep your chin up and remember us. Don’t get lost in the desert.”
“I won’t. Later.” He hit the button to hang up and hunted the satellite radio for something to wake him up some more. He hated to admit it, but now that he was older he could see staying on longer, letting the desert sink into his bones and nail his boots to the ground.
Letting Stetson sink into him, into his fucking soul.
That way lay madness. They’d never been able to make it work. They wanted different things, and neither one of them wanted to change. Hell, it wasn’t healthy to do that, right? To try and change for someone? Better to just drop it.
Curtis chuckled, the sound raw as hell. Drive. No thinking. He’d stop in Santa Fe and grab breakfast burritos and sausage biscuits. It was way easier to get egg whites in Santa Fe than in Española or something.
He sure wanted to dive into some green chile chicken stew, though. Maybe he could get the shit to make it tonight. He had a feeling Stetson would want to go home again, recharge with the horses and all. They could have a fire in the fire pit, drink a beer.
He grabbed food and good coffee, then headed to the home. Time to visit Miz Betty and spend a little time with his Mr. Wrong.
A whole new crew of nurses greeted him this morning, and he wished he’d gotten doughnuts or some such for them. This had to be the suckiest job ever, dealing with dying folks and their hysterical families. Saints, the lot of them.
Stetson was heading out as he was walking in, face like a thundercloud. “I need a cigarette.”
“What’s up, babe?” Uh-oh. That didn’t look good at all. “I brought food.”
“Thanks. She’s just in a temper. I just need a few minutes, okay?”
“Sure. Why don’t you go sit and eat in the truck? I got Miz Betty a couple of hash brown thingies.”
“She’ll love that. Thanks, cowboy. I appreciate you.”
I appreciate you.
God, when had those words become something he ached to hear? “You holler if you need me to come back out with you for a few.”
He headed in before he could say anything else, because he would just want to go sit with Stetson, and he was meant to be here for Betty.
Betty was sitting up in the bed, her cheeks as red as her son’s. “Curtis.”
“Hey, Miz Betty. How are you doing today? I brought you fried potatoes.”
“I… I’m embarrassed, to be honest. Stetson let me think…. You must think I’m a doddery old woman, and aren’t you dear to come out and…. Fried potatoes, huh?”
He raised a brow. “Yes, ma’am. I know you like them.”
“Thank you. You aren’t his lover anymore. He made you leave, ran you off. I remember now.”
Curtis pulled a face, wishing Stetson had warned him that “in a temper” meant lucid and pissed off about it. Besides, it had been more he’d left in a fit of fury and Stetson hadn’t ever run after him. “We both screwed up, Miz Betty.”
“Yes, well. It was the dumbest move he ever made, letting you get away.”
“Oh, I doubt it.” He winked. “Men are fools, aren’t we?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “He looks like shit, and if he doesn’t stop smoking, I’m going to beat his butt.”
“I’ll tell him.” Curtis settled on the chair Stetson had vacated and pulled out the food. “I’m sure sorry you’re not feeling well, Betty.”
“I’m dying and we both know it. Are you here for me or for Stetson?”
He met her direct gaze with his, a smile quirking his mouth. Now this was the Betty he knew and loved. “I’m here because he asked me to come.”
“Nice.” She ate part of the hash brown and then put it down. “I’m tired. I wanted Stetson to be happy, I guess. That was you. He was happy with you.”
“We had some good times, for sure.” What else could he say? “I still love him. We just had different ideas, is all.”
“Yeah. He’s a homebody. He didn’t get that from his daddy, no way.”
Curtis didn’t know about that. Parker Major had left his family regularly for the circuit when Stetson was a baby and had died in the arena when the man was a teenager. Curtis reckoned the need for a stable base had come from his daddy, about a hundred percent.
“Did you want some tea or something?” he asked, sidestepping that discussion.
“No. No, I don’t think so.” She offered him a half grin. “I’m sorry you had to see this. Stetson shouldn’t have called just because I was silly.”
“He’s a good son, Betty, a good man.”
“I know that.” She sighed. “I worry what he’ll do when I’m gone, is all. That ranch is hocked to the sky.”
“Shut up, Momma.” Stetson’s voice snapped out, sharp enough to sting. “I’m fine.”
She set her mouth in a mutinous line. “Sure, son. Fine and dandy.”
Lord, he did hate to be in the middle of a family thing.
“Thanks for breakfast, cowboy. I appreciate it. You get you some hash browns, Momma?” Stetson stood near the bed, shutting down the conversation with an iron fist. It would have been more impressive if it hadn’t been sad.
“I did.” She picked up another piece and nibbled. “Thank you, Curtis.”
“You’re both very welcome.” Curtis went for a smile, trying to smooth feathers.
Stetson was all stony-faced, but the man kept his mouth shut, and soon Miz Betty was jabbering about something that he didn’t know about at all, something from some time in her memory. Her sharp gaze had gone cloudy again, and Curtis wondered if that was a strategic retreat or a real loss of self.
From the sad resignation on Stetson’s face, he was betting on the latter.
It fucking sucked. This was no fair, no fair at all. He would rather see a snappish Miz Betty than this blank, almost girlish and confused lady.
“Hola, Señora Betty. Time for your bath.” A cheerful, round nurse walked in, smiling at him, then Stetson. “Sophia is here to set your hair too.”
“Do I like Sophia, son?” She looked to Stetson, then him, and Stetson nodded.
“You do, Momma. She’s real nice. Come on, cowboy. Let’s go.”
“See you later, Miz Betty.” Curtis bent to kiss her cheek, seeing the tear there but not mentioning it. That would be rude.
“We’ll be right downstairs, Momma,” Stetson murmured. “You enjoy your hairdo, huh? Sophia is a nice lady. She painted your toes for you, remember?”
Her entire face lightened up at Stetson’s words. “Yes! I do like the pretty colors.”
“There you go.”
Curtis grabbed the bag of food and followed Stetson out of the room, listening to the nurse jabber at Betty. Man, had it only been a half hour in there? It had seemed like the clock had stopped.
“Sorry about that. She comes and goes.”
“I guess. She’s pretty sharp in there sometimes, huh?”
“Yeah. That’s almost worse. Then she’s pissed off.”
“I guess then she knows that something is wrong.” That would sure piss Curtis off. He feared head injuries for just that reason. No one wanted to be trapped inside a burning building of a body. Worse to be trapped in a functioning one and not be you no more.
Stetson nodded to him and led him to this quiet little lounge with big old couches and some tables and an ancient TV blaring some ladies’ talk show. “You sleep okay?”
“I did. I would’ve run in with you, Roper.”
“I left early, but thank you. I try and spend a couple nights in the horse trailer, just to save.”
Gas. Tires. Oil. That was all left unsaid, but Curtis got it. “Shit, you can leave your truck here, and we’ll take the rental home tonight. You got a four-wheeler if you need something on the ranch, right?”
“I do. It’s better than a work truck, you know?”
“Yep. Gets in way tighter spots, even with a trailer.” Bam. Go him. He’d gotten him a passenger on the way back tonight.
He could think of precious little better than time alone with Stetson in the dark, music playing, miles flashing by. Well, unless it was fucking Stetson until neither of them could see, but that wasn’t what his mountain cowboy needed right now, was it?
Not that he hated the idea conceptually. In theory it sounded heavenly. He just knew he needed to tell his dick to stay down and give Stetson breathing room. For now.
Stetson opened his coffee and drank deep, leaning back into the cushions.
“I still got two burritos.” He’d had one with egg whites, but the rest were normal in case someone else wanted one.
“I’ll take one, if you don’t want it.” Stetson nodded. “Although I had a bowl of cereal this morning.”
“Hey, if you have one, so will I.” He’d always been able to con Stetson into eating by having something himself.
“Yeah? Thank you. I appreciate it. I keep saying that, but it’s true.”
“Oh, Roper, I just give a shit, is all. Always have.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that wasn’t ever our deal.”
“I know.” He was starting to wonder why their deal had been such a big thing that he left.
Hell, he wanted to know why the fuck they couldn’t have a new deal that didn’t involve misery. Well, part of that was Stetson’s momma, he guessed, at least right now.
Stetson ate his burrito without a word, head down, so fucking quiet.
Curtis wanted to crawl over on the sofa with him and cuddle him. He had this terrible urge to hold Stetson all the time, which was kinda counterproductive, because he couldn’t shield Stetson from any of this.
“Is there anything else I can do? I can stay for about a week, so I might as well help out.”
“That long?” Stetson grinned at him, the look a mixture of amusement and longing. “I’ll have to buy chicken breasts and egg whites to feed you.”
“You have a lot of cereal,” Curtis agreed. “I can get groceries. Y’all have a Whole Foods.”
“I eat cereal and whatever frozen suppers are on sale.”
“Well, like I said, I’ll buy the groceries. I know I’m a prima donna.” He had to be even more careful now. Back in the day, he’d eaten light so he could drink beer. Now he put on five pounds by looking at a cheeseburger like he’d had at the diner the other night.
“No, you have a career to protect, huh?”
“I do. Least for a while longer.” He chuckled, thinking how his shoulder probably wouldn’t last too many more seasons. The bulls and broncs were getting stronger every fucking year. And him? Well, he wasn’t.
“You’re the best, cowboy. You have a lot to be proud of.” That dark gaze caught his, holding it, making him flush.
“Thanks. I figure on backing off some next year. This needs to be my year.”
“You’ll do it. I have faith in you. You rode Appleseed, after all.”
“Yeah, and everyone predicted that one would kill me.”
“I made good money betting on your skinny ass.”
“No shit? Well, bet on me in the all-around. I’m gonna do it.” Curtis knew the warm glow of pleasure he felt was silly, but it spread through his belly anyway.
“You got it.” Stetson nodded like that was that, grabbed his coffee cup, and drank.
“You want to get out of here for a few, Roper? Just drive a little or something?”
“God, yes. I hate it here. That antiseptic smell….”
He could only imagine. Curtis had been in the frickin’ hospital once for an entire week, and that had made him crazy.
This had to be the worst kind of hell.
“Well, let’s check in with the nurse’s station so they know and head out.” Curtis stood, waiting for Stetson to join him.
Stetson took his hand, levered himself up, and surprised him with a quick, hard hug. “I know it ain’t real, cowboy, but….”
Curtis took it, the scent of Old Spice and Irish Spring soap strong. He loved touching this man. They fit together like hand in glove. Always had.
“Shut up.” He patted Stetson’s back. “I got you.”
“I…. Come on. We got to get moving, huh? We can just drive.” Stetson all but charged to the nurse’s station.
“We’ll take the rental.” That way Stetson couldn’t smoke, and they’d be less likely to break down.
“Works for me.” Stetson could hide behind the brim of his hat better than anyone he’d ever met. “You can drive.”
“Sure, babe.” Curtis loved driving around Santa Fe, with its weird warren of roads and crazy buildings. Maybe they could even head down to Madrid and back.
Wherever, so long as Stetson relaxed. He was so tense he was gonna explode, and that did no one any good.
Maybe Curtis could feed the man again too.
Something decadent so he could watch Stetson eat. He lived for those little sex noises Stetson made when he ate barbecue or cheesecake or something.
Maybe cannoli. Watching that gave him a happy that wouldn’t quit.
“What are you grinning so hard for?” Stetson asked after he’d left a note with the nurses to call if anything happened.
“Thinking about watching you eat.” Might as well hang for a sheep as well as a lamb. The statement was honest, at least.
Stetson blinked at him, and then he got a warm, pleased grin.
Yeah. Woo. He led the way out to the truck, a little bounce in his step. Okay, so the situation sucked. Didn’t mean they couldn’t make the best of it.
He had the one he wanted for a couple of days. He might as well be hip-deep in it.