Chapter Four

 

 

THE GATE appeared just the same when Curtis opened it so he could bump onto the ranch road. The J Bar M sign still sat on top, not a bit of rust on it.

The road could use a good grading, but Curtis knew there’d been some flooding last year. He’d heard about it in Santa Fe.

When he pulled up on the house, he just sat there, teeth in his mouth, trying to remember how to breathe. It needed some work, sure, but it was the same house that Stetson had brought him to ten years ago when he was recovering from a broken pelvis. The same simple, normal ranch house.

He almost doubled over with the pain that punched him in the gut then. Fuck, this felt like home.

Of course, he’d wanted to leave. He’d needed to. He’d had a life that wasn’t this hardscrabble existence in this beautiful place. How the fuck could a land so pretty be worth so little for feeding critters? Everything here bit, scratched, or snowed on a man.

“Okay, come on.” Curtis got out of the truck, looking around for Aimee the border collie.

A trio of dogs—all three collies, but none he knew—came tearing around the house, barking and wagging in time. Curtis knelt, figuring it was best not to try to go in until he made friends. Aimee had to be gone by now. Lord, he’d never even thought about it, but she’d been almost nine the last time he turned his back to this place.

They all had collars, and they came to him easily, pushing into his hands like they were old friends. Not guard dogs, then. Working dogs, sure, but not trained to keep people away.

“You guys need a brushing.” He scrubbed ruffs. “Are you allowed in the house?” Curtis dusted off his jeans.

They all followed him, right up into the covered porch, and there were three dog beds next to a pair of rockers.

“Ah, well, sorry, guys. You stay out here.” Curtis dug the key out of the pot of dead geraniums next to the front door. Miz Betty had always cared for the plants. Curtis would have to see about getting Stetson something hearty and all-weather for his key hideout.

He opened up the front door, the scent of Stetson like a fucking ghost in this place. A pair of even more worn boots than the ones Stetson wore sat by the door, and a neat line of hats marched across the wall, the gimme caps on hooks, the cowboy hats upside down in U-shaped hangers. Curtis placed his hat in one of the empties and dragged his bag over to lie by the couch.

The place hadn’t changed, and that wasn’t really an exaggeration. The furniture hadn’t moved, had just gotten that much older. The TV was still the big old console thing that had always been sitting there. Could those even get a signal now?

He turned it on, just to see. Okay, no. Fuzziness. Maybe Stetson watched TV in the bedroom. He knew Miz Betty’s bedroom was on one side of the front room, Stetson’s on the other. He honestly couldn’t remember if there was a guest room. God knew he’d never had to use it.

The kitchen told a story of a man who wasn’t here and was running his ass off. There were piles of bills and paperwork on the table, along with an ashtray and a dried-out coffee cup with the handle broken off at the bottom. One fruit bowl had a sad, desiccated apple, and the mousetrap on the floor by the sink proved why the pups weren’t allowed in.

“Lord.” The dishes in the sink were all cereal bowls and forks. The trash held a metric ton of frozen-dinner shells. Curtis shook his head and began to clean up some, washing dishes and wiping out the fruit bowl. He needed something to do, some way to keep his hands and mind busy. He could drive himself nuts worrying about Stetson.

He cracked a couple of windows, even though the air up here was frigid, just to freshen things up. Then Curtis turned in a big circle, trying to decide what to do next. Someone had to be doing the feeding, so there was no sense in going to the barns, though he would feel more at home there, probably.

He ended up heading out to the covered back porch, finding what had to be Stetson’s place to watch the world. This vantage point exposed the mountains, the sunset, the barns, and what had been the ranch hands’ home, back in the day. The huge chair was surrounded with more dog beds, a huge fire pit in front of it and a standing beer cooler close by.

Well, that made him smile.

“Now, this I can get behind.” He settled in one of the comfy chairs, and sure enough the dogs came trotting up, wanting more ear rubs and loving.

The horses came to the fence, a half dozen following the lead mare out to see what was what, to see if someone was bringing more food.

They looked good, fuzzy for winter, fat and sassy and needing riding.

“Exercise, you guys. You all want it.” Curtis could hang out a few days, do a little riding. Sounded good.

He heard the sound of truck tires on gravel, then boot steps echoing through the house before the back door opened. “Reckoned I’d find you out here.”

“It’s a good spot. You get that pizza or do I need to dig in your freezer?”

“I got pizza and a six-pack. They’re on the counter.” He got a half grin and a dip of the brim of that hat before Stetson headed out toward the fence. “Sugarbaby!”

The lead mare lifted her head, ears twisting and turning, and then she came running. She stuck her nose over the fence once she reached Stetson, blowing gently. Someone was spoiled.

Stetson leaned in and reached for her, resting their cheeks together. Spoiled and possibly Stetson’s best friend.

God, he wanted to be the one Stetson still reached for when the stubborn bastard needed to be touched.

Curtis shook himself a little. Jealous of a horse, for Christ’s sake. “I’ll get plates and all, babe.”

Babe. Listen to him, acting like he was ready to just fold himself back into Stetson’s life. Christ. He was the worst kind of fool.

“There’s paper ones in the kitchen.” Stetson’s voice was husky, rough, and a little raw, but the man patted Sugarbaby’s neck, rubbed her ears. “I’ll be back in a bit, sweet girl.”

“I’m on it.” If Stetson needed a moment, Curtis was smart enough to give it. He walked into the kitchen, and his mouth watered right away. Oh, that pizza smelled good, all garlic and tomato and fresh bread scent.

He wasn’t sure whether to clean off a spot on the kitchen table or just fix a plate and take it back outside. Stetson answered the question by joining him inside.

“Nippy out there if you want to keep the pizza hot.”

“But it would keep the beer cold.” Curtis winked, trying for a hint of a smile, at least.

“True that. Come on. We’ll sit in the front room. I keep intending to move all that shit on the table to the office, but I ain’t done it yet.”

“I see you still got that old TV,” he teased. Curtis loaded up a plate.

“Momma had hysteria when you moved anything, so I stopped trying. Now, I just can’t. It’ll probably just stay like this forever.”

“Why can’t you?” He knew he was being mean, but Miz Betty wasn’t ever coming home.

“Well, I mean, I’m capable, just…. I’m not…. I got enough shit to worry on.”

“Oh.” Curtis nodded. Now he saw what Stetson meant. “I was just teasing.”

“Right. Sorry. I guess… I don’t know. I spent a few years making sure everything was just like the day before. She’d sit in front of this TV and stare at it and laugh like she was watching something.”

That sounded like hell on earth, and Curtis set his plate aside for a moment, walking over to wrap his arms around Stetson’s middle. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Stetson looked at him, stared at him with these wounded fucking eyes for the longest time, and then Stetson wrapped those arms around him and held on tight. Curtis swore his heart stopped long enough to make him dizzy, and when it started back up, it took up the same rhythm as Stetson’s.

They stood there for a long while, breathing together, until Stetson’s stiff muscles relaxed some. Yeah. That was it. Give and take. Warmth and care.

“You still smell good. Still.” Stetson looked over at him, and for a long, breathless second, Curtis thought the man was going to kiss him, but then Stetson stepped back. “Pizza. It’s too good to forget.”

“It smells amazing.” Curtis’s hands shook a little when he reached for his plate. “I’ll come back for the beers.”

“Good deal.” Stetson touched his wrist, then grabbed a couple slices for himself.

They took their food out to the front room before Curtis went back for the beer, then settled in to eat as if they did this every day. Crazy.

He pulled the cheese off his pie, only leaving enough to taste. He hated this bullshit, but it made a difference between seven point six and eight seconds.

Stetson chuckled. “Still eating for a bird, huh?”

“Yeah. Someday I’ll retire and get round as an Italian granny.”

“I’d like to see that. You ain’t got an ounce of fat on you.”

Like Stetson had room to talk. The man had never been soft, but now he was downright spare, his clothes hanging on him. Curtis would have to feed him real food for a few days. Grocery store tomorrow so he could stock the empty fridge and pantry enough for Stetson to have a few weeks’ worth of meals.

Stetson finished his beer, eyes watching him like he would disappear in a puff of green smoke like the Wizard from Oz.

Curtis got it; the unreality of the situation wasn’t lost on him. “That was damned good pizza.”

“I know, right? It’s my favorite place here in town. How’s the altitude treating you, Tex?”

Curtis snorted. “I been up in Colorado and Wyoming so much this year, I’m all acclimatized.”

“You did good in Cheyenne.”

“You been keeping up, Roper?” He remembered Stetson saying something that first night, but it still amazed him. Seriously, the idea that Stetson knew his stats made him super warm.

Stetson shrugged. “Ain’t every rancher can say he knows an all-round champ. I’m proud to have known you.”

“You still know me, dork.” His gut ached at the thought of being someone Stetson used to hang with.

“I do. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, you coming. It means the world.”

“I’m glad to have done it to help your momma, you know it.”

“No. No, I mean, yes, of course. But I ain’t thanking you for Momma. It means the world to me.”

“Oh.” His cheeks warmed. “Well, then I’m extra glad, Roper. I miss you.” He said the words and realized he meant them. Curtis would have told anyone he hadn’t thought of Stetson in years. Now he knew better.

“Yeah. I know all about that.” Stetson stood up, stretched. “I got to get out and check the horses, the barns. The good TV’s in my room, if you want to watch. I’ll switch the sheets and let you have the bed in there. The little room off mine’s an office now, and Momma’s side of the house is….”

“Hey, I can take the couch. God knows I’ve slept on enough of them.” He didn’t want to put Stetson out when he could very well have paid for his own hotel.

“Yeah, but… I thought about it some on the drive up. I ain’t gonna, I mean…. Shit, we’re grown and I got a big bed. I mean, for tonight.”

They’d slept together last night, hadn’t they?

“Sure.” His heartbeat kicked up. “You need help out there?”

“I hope not, but you’re welcome one way or the other. I miss being here.”

“I bet.” Curtis tugged on his jacket, breathing deep of the mountain air outside.

Stetson grabbed a handful of baby carrots, then led him out toward the barns, but the horses came swarming long before that, begging for attention.

Someone spent a long time out in the pasture and not in the house.

“Hey, lady.” There was Sugarbaby again, demanding a treat. She tossed her head when Curtis got too close, but then nosed at him curiously.

Stetson passed him some carrots, the man still jabbering away at the others, touching and leaning, utterly unafraid of teeth or hooves. Curtis had a fine respect for what a bronc could do, but these babies were tame.

“Are those goats?” Good Lord.

“Uh-huh. Goats. Alpacas. Donkeys. Three ostriches, a good-sized herd of elk, and there’s a momma bear that keeps breaking down the fence on the near side to the river.”

“Elk?” Curtis blinked.

“Yeah. If I keep ’em fenced, they don’t get hunted so much. I have to cull the herd maybe once every two or three years.”

“Wow. Can I see them?”

“Sure. Tomorrow we’ll ride out. I don’t handle them. I want them to be scared of people, but you can watch them. I called the big bull elk Frank, after the bullfighter. The llamas and all are just over here behind the barn along with the donkeys and ostriches.”

He shook his head, following as Stetson moved through the herd, heading to turn the lights on in the barn. The place was spotless—either Stetson was working his ass off or the man had the best neighbors on earth. Maybe both. People loved Stetson easily; Curtis knew because he’d fallen for the man in minutes.

Curtis could see the years falling off Stetson like the man was taking off a coat, checking feed and water, whistling away. The other critters obviously knew that sound, because everyone started chittering and braying and hollering for attention. The donkeys came to the fence separating them from the horses, those long old ears twitching, and Curtis took them the last of his carrots, loving their smart brown eyes and soft noses.

Stetson laughed, Sugarbaby nudging him in the butt and almost sending him ass over teakettle. “You evil old bitch. I will send you to the factory and have your happy ass made into glue.”

Right. As if.

“I can just see you being mean to her.” Curtis winked when Stetson glanced at him. “So, you have to tell me about the three-legged goat.”

“I wish there was a big story,” Stetson said. “Someone left her here. Folks are having tough times, and so… I get lots of bonus critters. It’s okay. I don’t mind so much.”

“I guess a few more mouths to feed are easier for you since you run so many horses.” Just cattle up here ran pretty cheap, but Stetson was paying for a lot of feed anyway.

“I guess. I mean, I don’t know. I’ll worry on that later.”

That sounded kinda ominous. He hoped Stetson wasn’t thinking of anything drastic. People sold land off too fast sometimes in order to pay bills when there was usually help available.

Stetson wandered through the next set of barns, feeding away. Lord have mercy, this was where Stetson belonged, up here in the mountains, easy in his skin, feeding beasts. Not in some hospital. Seeing the improvements Stetson had made out here totally explained why the house was shabbier.

This was Stetson’s home. That house was Miz Betty. Someday soon, she would be gone, he knew, and Stetson might start over in there. A lump lodged in his throat at the idea, but that was how it happened. Old folks passed on, and younger ones took up the mantle. He’d hated this place when he’d driven away, cursed this ranch for being more important than him, but seeing Stetson here, now, Curtis got it. This was what every rodeo cowboy longed for, somewhere in his genes. Land and critters and space to breathe that was his.

Stetson began to laugh, the sound ringing out as he watched a pair of goats goof off, playing together.

Curtis wanted to take everything but this and handle it, let Stetson do what he loved and only that. He wanted to protect this man with everything in him.

Too fucking bad that wasn’t how the world worked. Shit, loving each other hadn’t been an issue. Loving each other. Wanting each other. Even liking each other. Pride had been their downfall, and that wasn’t gonna change. He couldn’t be less than who he was, and neither could Stetson.

Still, that didn’t change what his heart wanted, did it? No, sir.

Curtis sighed, then yelled and jumped three feet sideways when an ostrich leaned over the fence and tried to bite off his nipple. “Holy shit!”

“Watch them. They bite.”

“No shit? I end up missing parts, you won’t think it’s so funny, Roper.”

“No missing parts. I like all your parts right where they are, thanks.” Stetson smiled at him then, eyes as warm as could be. Damn.

Curtis told his body very sternly not to get all happy. Anything started sticking out, that ostrich might go after it. “Yeah? Me too.”

“I bet. She’s coming after you again.”

“Birds. You have giant birds, man.” He moved out of range.

“They’re more like dinosaurs than birds, really. Alice, for fuck’s sake. Leave the man alone.”

“It has a name?”

“What am I supposed to do, call her Mrs. Ostrich? How do I know whether she’s married or just in a civil union with Butch?”

“There’s another one named Butch?” Okay, Stetson clearly spent too much time alone.

“And Edie. Edie’s the little one. Butch is evil. Don’t mess with him. Alice is just mean.”

“Lord.” He detached the goat from his jeans. “Gimme cows any day.”

“You just aren’t nearly as adventurous as me, that’s all….”

“Nope. I just get on two-thousand-pound animals for a living.” He winked over, the refrain old and familiar.

“Adventure. Sheer stupidity. Sheer stupidity. Adventure.”

“Hey, now!” He laughed out loud, which startled all manner of weird creatures. One of the little goats head-butted him, and when he jumped, the donkey stole his hat.

When he glanced over at Stetson, the man was howling with laughter, clinging to the top rail of the fence and wheezing with it. Curtis had to grin. He’d done that, made Stetson laugh. Well, him and a bunch of freaks from the animal kingdom.

“Dear God, I’ve missed you, cowboy. I swear you’re still something else.”

“Come on, Roper. Let’s finish up the chores and go watch a movie, huh?” They could snuggle in the bed and pretend they weren’t broken up for a little while. Even if Miz Betty wasn’t there to see it.