Chapter Fifteen

Christmas morning at the Double T Ranch

 

Phillip woke early, showered, dressed and headed downstairs. This was a ranch and there would be some work to do first thing. He wanted to show Rush he was willing to step up if needed.

The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee filled the air as he tiptoed downstairs, then into the kitchen.

“Morning.” He nodded to Brian and Rush sitting at the kitchen table, coffee cups in their hands.

“What’re you doin’ up so early, son?” Rush took a sip.

“Figured there was work to be done, and that Manuel might be home and you might need some help.” He poured a mug, fixed it with a little cream and sugar, then sat across from them.

Rush smiled over his cup. “That’s nice of you.”

“Not nice. I want to.”

“Got something to prove, do you?” Rush winked at Brian.

“Maybe.” Phillip shrugged. “What needs doing?”

“Got to feed the horses, mostly. Cattle can take care of themselves for today.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “Babe, we’ll be out in the barn if you need us.”

Brian held up his cup of coffee in a salute. “I’ll have breakfast ready when you get back. The others should be getting up by then.”

Rush motioned for Phillip to follow him. At the door, they put on their coats and hats. Phillip glanced over to the tree, multicolored lights making it look so pretty. He stared harder. Encircling the tree were four boxes tied up with red ribbons. Gifts. Fuck. He didn’t have a gift for anyone, not even Brian and Rush.

No one mentioned handing out gifts.

He groaned.

“What’s that?” Rush gazed at him. “Something hurting?”

“No.” He sighed and pointed with a jerk of his chin. “Gifts. I don’t have a gift for anyone.” He stared at his feet. “I feel so lame.”

“Don’t worry about it. We told the guys no gifts. Those are just from Sammi.” He leaned in. “They smell like cookies.”

“Oh. That was nice of him.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

Rush opened the door and stepped out. Cold air hit Phillip in the face and he tugged his hat down lower. At least they’d be working in the barn and not out on the range where the wind would cut through him.

They headed at a trot to the horse barn. Once inside, Rush pointed to the feed room. “Go ahead and get a wheelbarrow and load it up with that oat mixture. Put one scoop in each of the feed buckets hanging on the stall. I’ll fill the water troughs.”

Each stall had a water pipe leading to it, so all Rush had to do was climb up on the rails of the stall, turn on the spigot, fill the trough, then shut it off.

Phillip got the barrow and wheeled it into the feed room. He found a large plastic container filled with a grain mixture. On top of it sat the scoop. He pried off the top and started digging out grain and dumping it into the barrow, one scoop for each horse.

As he pushed the barrow past each stall, he stopped, got a scoop of oats and dumped it into the buckets. The horses nickered and stomped, ears forward and noses pushing at Phillip as if to say, hurry up, I’m hungry.

Once he’d done that, Rush slapped him on the back. “Good job. Having you here made short work of a long job. Usually Manuel and the hands take care of this, so it’s good to have help.”

“Sure.” Phillip nodded. Now that the chores were done, he started thinking about breakfast. His belly rumbled.

But Rush seemed to have something else on his mind, because he walked over to an old chair and sat down. “Phillip, put the wheelbarrow away and come on over here. I want to talk to you.” He pointed to a stool.

Oh shit. Nothing good comes of ‘I want to talk to you’.

Phillip stored the barrow, shut the feed room door and limped over to sit. He sat, hands clasped between his legs, bracing himself.

“Brian seems to think you might want to go on to Houston after the holiday.”

Phillip didn’t answer. He didn’t think Rush wanted an answer yet, and besides, his mom had taught him only answer a question with a yes or no. Keep the chatter short, less chance to let slip something that could do you harm or get you arrested.

“I seem to think…I know what that look on your face all day yesterday means. You were happy. And maybe it’s the happiest you’ve been in a long time. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir.” Phillip could only get a few words out because his throat had closed tighter than a drum.

“You said being a cowboy was your dream job.” Rush glanced around the barn. “Taking care of the horses, riding the herd. Living on a ranch.”

Phillip nodded, he closed his lips tight, afraid he’d bust out and say something to make Rush not want him. This conversation could go bad or good, he knew it, and it scared him something fierce. For once, his mom’s advice was good.

“Before I hire someone, I want to know about him, who he is. And I don’t know much about you, son.” He sat back and studied Phillip. “Where are you from?”

“I was born and raised in Nevada.”

“When and why did you leave home?”

“I left at sixteen, when I came out. My mom…she wasn’t…happy about me being gay. Told me I could fix it, or leave. I decided to leave. Didn’t think being gay needed to be fixed.” He shrugged. It hadn’t been the whole truth, but it was part truth—she hadn’t been happy, she’d told him to fix it, he’d decided to leave. But he left out the part about them being questioned by the police. He’d seen the writing on the wall and gotten the hell out before he wound up behind bars.

“So, you’ve been drifting for about six or seven years?” Rush pushed his hat back on his head. “That’s a long time.”

“It is. Some days it feels like it, some others time just flies. But mostly it’s okay, I guess. It is what it is.”

“What’s the longest time you’ve stayed in one place?”

Phillip didn’t have to think long. “Here. Spring Lake. Been here almost a year. For a while, I thought I’d stay here…well, longer.” He snorted. “If that guy hadn’t shown up at the garage, I’d still be sitting in my trailer, working the front counter. Maybe worked up to manager.”

“I don’t want to hire someone who looks at this ranch as a temporary gig. I need someone who has staying power. Someone who can maybe grow into Manuel’s job as foreman.”

Phillip sat up straight. “As foreman?” His voice squeaked like a little girl’s.

Rush held out his hands. “Now hold on, I’m not offering you a job. Yet.” He grinned. “But I have to think about the future. Manuel will retire in a few years. I want someone who doesn’t care about me and Brian living together, loving each other. A gay man would be ideal. Most of my hands are straight, from what I can tell. I don’t care if they are or aren’t, as long as they do their jobs and treat me and Brian with respect.” He took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair, then settled it back on his head. “What I want is someone who can grow with this job, who sees a future here, not just a job to get him through. Think you got that in you?” Rush narrowed his eyes at Phillip, as if he could see right through him to his heart and soul.

“I guess I’ve been wandering, sir. Looking for a place to land. To put down roots. Frankly, I never thought it was Spring Lake. Until I met Brian and he told me about how the town is changing. How it’s been accepting of you and the others. More gay-friendly, so to speak. And that’s got me to thinking.” He rubbed at the fading marks on his cheek. “What I want is to be a ranch hand. You’ve got a fine ranch, Mr. Weston. And I like the way you run it, how you treat people, even people you don’t know. Like me. Kindness has been hard to find in my life.” He sighed and gathered his courage. “I’ve been thinking hard about things. I don’t want to wake up at thirty and have nothing to show for it. I want to work here, sir. For as long as you’d have me.” Well, he’d done it. Said out loud what he wanted. No more begging for broken tortilla chips, he wanted the whole enchilada. With sour cream and cheese.

Rush stood. “Well, son. After the holiday, you can move into the bunkhouse. There’s a separate bedroom for the foreman. It’s got a heater. There’s a galley kitchen if you don’t feel like eating dinner with us. I’ll need some info from you, social security number and such, because I hire above board. We’ll discuss wages after the holiday when I do your paperwork.” He held out his hand for Phillip to shake. “Deal?”

“Deal!” Phillip grabbed his hand and pulled Rush in for a one-handed bro-hug. “Thank you, sir!” Rush slapped him on the back, then let him go and stepped away.

“And one more thing? Call me Rush. That ‘sir’ shit makes me feel old as hell.”

“You got it. Rush.” Phillip’s heart beat out a joyful rhythm. Could it really be true? He had his dream job? And on Christmas morning?

“Best Christmas ever!” he crowed.

Rush laughed. “Now, let’s get inside. I’m ready for breakfast.”

Phillip followed his soon-to-be new boss back to the ranch house. When they stepped through the door, he saw Mitchell and Jack seated at the kitchen table with coffee. They looked up and waved to him and Rush. He gave them a nod back. Even Winston sat on a little dog bed in the corner, his eyes fixed on the activity in the kitchen.

Everyone appeared happy, relaxed and content. And for the first time in ages, Phillip felt that too in his heart.

Brian, Sammi and Edward crowded the kitchen, working on breakfast. The smell of frying bacon, sausage and eggs, melded with biscuits baking, filled the air, along with their chatter as they worked. He’d ask to help, but not one more person could fit in there, so he got some coffee and took a seat, with Rush sitting next to him.

This time, Phillip felt like he belonged at the table.