by A. M. Arthur
“What do you think?” Orry asked him, holding George’s gaze. Orry wouldn’t go if George said no, but George needed to stop being selfish. It had been seven years, damn it. His encounter with Adrian this past summer only proved that George needed to stop hiding. He had to find a fucking backbone and take his life back.
“Okay, let’s go,” George replied, his voice more confident than he expected.
Orry’s eyebrows rose. “Are you sure?”
Nope. “Yeah, I’m sure. Besides, you never turn down free food.”
Orry threw a wadded-up napkin at his head.
“Great,” Derrick said with a grin. “I’ll text Wes later and let him know we’re bringing guests. And don’t worry about bringing anything. They had a freaking feast last year and plenty of leftovers. Actually—” he looked at Slater “—I don’t remember seeing you there.”
“I wasn’t,” Slater replied. “The ranch is closed to guests that week, and since I wasn’t part of the skeleton crew tending the horses, I went up to see my family.”
“Ah, makes sense.”
George knew from casual conversation that Slater had a daughter in college, and he made frequent trips to Sacramento to visit her. “Is your daughter coming down for the big feast?”
“Yup.” Slater beamed like the proud dad he was. “She’s excited to see the ranch where I worked and meet some of the people I talk about, especially Wes. When she found out I knew someone who made movies and television, she practically begged to come.”
Nerves made his belly squirm, but the odds of anyone at this week’s upcoming Thanksgiving meal recognizing him from his ice skating days were slim to none. He’d grown up, changed his hair and in the world of competitive sports, seven years was a lifetime. “Will the trick riders be there?” George asked without thinking.
Derrick shrugged. “Probably. Why?”
“Just curious. I enjoyed watching their show back in July. What they do is very athletic and takes a lot of training.” Kind of like figure skating but he hadn’t told Dez or Morgan about that part of his life yet.
“I have a lot of respect for Robin and Levi,” Slater said. “It’s hard enough for some folks simply to mount a horse, never mind the tricks those two do. You thinking of a career change?”
“No.” Not really. George liked his job but he didn’t want to do it forever. He wasn’t sure trick riding was in his future, but he still had a lot of his old flexibility and muscle control. It might be a fun thing to try.
If he got up the courage to ask. Which he probably wouldn’t.
Dez started talking about her newest upcycling creation, and the meal resumed like usual, attention finally off George. He didn’t mind the vegan pizza, even though he picked off most of the pepperoni. Too spicy. Orry tried a piece, though, and liked it. But he’d always been a more adventurous eater. Orry hadn’t had to stay slender and light to perfect his triple axel. Didn’t have to carry the weight of their parents’ hopes, dreams and financial investment on his shoulders...
“Dude?” Morgan snapped his fingers in front of George’s face, and George reared back. “You okay? You zoned.”
“Yeah, sorry.” He offered what he hoped was a passable smile. “Lost in thought.”
“No kidding.”
George avoided looking at Orry. Orry waited until they were both back upstairs, alone, before bringing it up. “What upset you?” he asked.
“Nothing upset me.” George adored his twin and how attentive he was, but sometimes Orry could be a little overbearing when it came to watching George’s mood. “I started thinking about food and it swept me into the past. I’m okay.”
Orry studied him a beat. “Are you sure you want to go to this big Thanksgiving meal?”
“Yes. It’ll be good for me. And it’s been a long time since either of us had a big, home-cooked dinner.”
“True. Okay, well, you can still change your mind before Thursday.”
“I know.” He had no intention of changing his mind—or telling Orry even if he did—because he knew how much Orry needed this. Orry worked so hard he barely had a social life, and Orry had the kind of personality that thrived around other human beings. George was the extreme introvert who’d spent a third of his life avoiding people at all costs.
But he was also...bored with this life. He used to live for the glamor and spectacle of the rink, and now he lived for...well, to live and that was it.
There had to be more to life than just existing.
Right?
* * *
With Bentley Ghost Town shut down for the next two months, Levi had more time on his hands than he knew what to do with. He hadn’t been so content living in one place since his first homestead up in the Lakeview Campground in Wyoming, and he wanted to stick around, but boredom gave him itchy feet.
Moving to Northern California to be closer to Robin Butler, a man who was still his brother no matter what legal documents said, had been a calculated risk. Robin used to work at Clean Slate Ranch, and when the owner of the ghost town wanted to do a grand reopening this past January, Levi had agreed to help. He and Robin had been trick riders once upon a time for Lucky’s Rodeo, and Levi still remembered everything he’d picked up after a lifetime of practice. When the reopening show was a resounding success, Levi and Robin became a permanent part of the ghost town experience.
Being on the beautiful property outside the tiny town of Garrett, California, settled Levi in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. He’d planted his tiny home on a piece of land lent to him by the owner, and his three cats loved the freedom they had to explore. Those crazy animals had been his most consistent allies from the moment he found that box on the side of the road. No matter how far into the wilds they traveled, they always came home to him at night.
Unlike lying, cheating boyfriends.
Nah, not going there. It was Thanksgiving, and Levi wanted to be in a positive mood when he walked down to his hosts’ home for a midafternoon dinner. Despite being told he didn’t need to bring anything, Levi had used his small oven to cook up a batch of his father’s infamous cornpone. Thicker and wetter than cornbread, the treat was a family favorite.
Xander had adored it.
A bit of melancholy settled over Levi as he combed his hair in the small-ish bathroom, as it still sometimes did when he remembered his late little brother. Hard to believe he’d have been gone four years this Christmas Day. Xander and Robin had loved each other hard and for a long time, but Levi was glad Robin had moved on. He was house hunting still with his boyfriend, Shawn, and they were a lovely, committed couple.
The sort of relationship Levi craved more and more, but he lived in a semiremote area now, which made meeting people kind of tough. Dating apps hadn’t netted him much success in the past. And visitors to Bentley were usually not locals so flirting there was a waste of time. Maybe some people simply didn’t get that one big love of their life, while other people like Robin got two.
Didn’t mean Levi would stop trying. Hell, today’s Thanksgiving dinner would be full of people he didn’t know, including ranch staff and Garrett locals. Maybe he’d luck into someone—if for nothing else, a good roll in the hay.
Dinner officially began at two but guests were allowed to start arriving any time after noon. Since Levi lived a brief five-minute walk from his destination, he left at right around arrival time with his platter of cut cornpone. He loved the bit of land he was currently parked on, secluded from all roads without feeling too desolate or remote. Levi had gotten used to campgrounds and similar areas to park his home, so the isolation was new. Ginger darted out of the brush and trailed him for a few dozen yards before retreating, as was her habit. Even when he went running in the morning, she followed him for a bit before turning back.
Such a mama cat.
Not that she’d ever be an actual mama, because he’d gotten all three of h
is kitties spayed as soon as they were old enough.
The collection of vehicles parked around the Garrett-Bentley house came into view before the actual structure. Levi hadn’t been around last year for the celebration but he had to wonder how that many people fit inside the smallish, two-story cabin. Robin had mentioned that a lot of the ranch staff who attended carpooled but that was still a heck of a lot of vehicles.
He was more familiar with the employees of Bentley Ghost Town than of the neighboring Clean Slate Ranch, but he was very good with faces, and Levi exchanged greetings with several people as soon as he entered the house. It had a log cabin exterior, but the inside was an eclectic mix of styles. The first floor had a huge open living space, with the social area near the door and a long dining table in the rear near a bank of wide windows. The view was gorgeous. To the left were stairs to the master loft, and below that was the kitchen and spare rooms.
Levi liked the design of the place a lot, and it was already swarming with people.
Wes Bentley, one half of the duo who owned the place, popped right over with a bright smile. “Hey, welcome! You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“I know but this is a family favorite.” He handed over the platter. “Cornpone. Like cornbread, only way better.”
“Excellent. Drinks are in coolers over there. Please help yourself. And there are appetizers on the table already.” Wes bounced away with the platter, his energy already infectious when the guy had probably been cooking for hours by now.
Levi had liked Wes from the moment he met the high-strung actor, much like he’d liked Wes’s bear of a boyfriend Mack Garrett, who was also Levi’s boss up at Bentley. The names could confuse folks a bit—after all, how many couples lived between towns named after them—but they were good people. He spotted Mack in the kitchen with an older lady he guessed to be Wes’s mother, as she’d been named one of the primary participants in cooking today’s menu.
While Levi could hold a conversation with just about anyone, he poured himself a plastic cup of root beer and lingered by the coat closet, watching rather than participating. The slowly growing crowd was a mix of straight and queer couples, as well as single folks like himself. He spotted the owner of Clean Slate Ranch, along with the man’s foreman and the lady who ran the guesthouse. More ranch hands. One of the servers from the ghost town’s saloon.
When Robin and Shawn arrived, Levi exchanged brief hugs with both men. He genuinely liked Shawn, who was quiet and polite and made Robin shine like the sun when Robin smiled at him. The kind of in love Levi missed, but he also wasn’t sure he wanted to risk another heartbreak just yet. It had been over a year since Grant, and his libido was definitely on board with something casual—if he could find someone.
“What are your plans for the next two months?” Shawn asked Levi. “I’m donating my time down at the ranch in the guesthouse, so I’ve got something to keep me busy.”
Shawn was the pastry/sous chef at the ghost town saloon, and he lived in a cabin with Robin down at the ranch while they house hunted. Last year, the ranch cook Patrice had broken her collarbone right before Thanksgiving, and Shawn was hired to cook for guests in her place. It was how Robin and Shawn began their flirtation and eventual romance, and this year Shawn had the same two-month break as everyone else from the ghost town.
“I’m honestly not sure,” Levi replied. “Maybe I’ll spend some time exploring local attractions for my blog. Haven’t had much time to do that yet.” Even though he’d been in Garrett for ten months, he was usually too exhausted after work to do anything except stream television shows. And on his weekend—the ghost town was closed Tuesdays and Wednesdays—he was often practicing or wandering the land.
“How about you, man?” Levi asked Robin. “Gonna sit on your ass and whittle another chess set for Shawn?”
“Ha ha.” Robin flipped him off. “No, I’ve got some woodworking commissions to keep me busy. With Christmas coming up, I got a few extra orders through the general store.”
Wood whittling had been a hobby for Robin for a long time, until he started selling pieces in the ghost town’s general store this past spring. Now he had a good little side business to help supplement his income, especially during two months without pay. Levi would be fine. He had an income from his blog and no rent to pay on the land. Only monthly payments on his house and truck, and insurance every six months.
He just needed to stay busy so the road didn’t call him too loudly.
Not that he couldn’t travel for a while and come back to roost in two months...
“Hey, there’s the crafty cowboy!” someone shouted.
Levi glanced at the front door. Former ranch hand Slater and his boyfriend, Derrick, had arrived, and they had a pair of unexpected companions: the Thompson twins. Levi knew immediately which was Orry and which was George, because George had haunted eyes. He’d met them this summer on July 4th when the pair visited the ghost town. George had been enchanted by the horses and seemed intrigued by Levi and Robin’s trick riding routines. But there was something about his big, blue eyes that had captivated Levi five months ago, and he was a little ashamed that he’d actually searched George’s name online.
He had been shocked to realize the young man he’d met had once been rising-star figure skater Georgie Thompson. Levi respected the hell out of athletes like figure skaters and gymnasts because he knew all about technique and precision. One wrong move on a racing horse, and Levi could fall and break his neck.
Just like Xander had.
Levi straightened, intending to go reintroduce himself. Maybe start up a conversation with George.
Except George took in the crowded room, went exceptionally pale, and then bolted back outside.
Chapter Two
I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this. Fuck!
George hadn’t woken up this morning with butterflies in his stomach. No, he’d woken up with a gut full of angry, buzzing hornets that stung his insides and insisted he cancel Thanksgiving dinner in Garrett. But Orry had been excited all week, and George wouldn’t be selfish. So he’d taken his meds, along with antacids, and tried to relax.
Hah.
He’d barely kept his legs from bouncing the entire hour-long car trip outside the city, and even though the Garrett area was now slightly familiar after having been here once before, the big sign advertising the ghost town did nothing to calm him. He swore it somehow made his anxiety worse, and he was a jumpy mess when Derrick parked his car near a sea of other vehicles. Way more than George had anticipated.
It had taken a quiet pep talk from Orry before he could even get out of the car. Derrick and Slater waited patiently, though, aware of how hard this was for George. “Come on, it’ll be okay,” Orry whispered, one hand on his right elbow.
Walk, you idiot. Walk.
He somehow managed to walk onto the spacious front porch, noting the furniture and people chilling outside. The log cabin exterior of the place. The chill in the air and smell of nature all around him. He followed his brother inside, trying to focus on the back of his head and not see the crowd right away. To absorb the warmth and wonderful scents of turkey, spices and other things.
Then the very loud, “Hey, there’s the crafty cowboy!” seemed to put all eyes on Slater and their quartet. All eyes on George. He saw a sea of disappointed fans and all the old shame came rushing back. Crushed down on him. The house was too small, the fans too close.
So he ran like a coward.
Ran all the way back to Derrick’s car and pressed his forehead against the cool metal of the door. Regulated his breathing the way he’d been taught during panic attacks. Felt the car beneath his touch. Smelled grass and the faint odor of wood char.
“You’re okay.” Orry stroked his back with a firm, familiar touch. “Jesus, I didn’t think you were this bad.”
“I’m so sorry I embarrassed you.”
“You didn’t embarrass me, bro. I feel like an ass for not realizing how anxious you were about this.”
“Didn’t want you to see. You wanted to be here. You deserve this.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t deserve this.” By “this” Orry meant more than just today’s panic attack.
But George was tired of letting his anxiety cripple him. His friendships with his downstairs neighbors had reinforced that fatigue and made him truly face his loneliness. “I’m going back inside, I just need a few minutes. I wasn’t prepared for all those people. It’s been a while.”
“I know. But if the people in that house are anything like Slater, they won’t judge you for having a panic attack.”
“Thanks.” George released his grip on the car long enough to hug his brother, then leaned his back against it. Stared up at the sunshine and blue sky. “This is nice.”
“Real sky and sun on your face is always better than through a window.” Orry hesitated, as if about to comment again, then smiled and went back to the cabin.
George closed his eyes and allowed the sun to warm his face for a little while as he worked up the courage to go back in. His attacks embarrassed the hell out of him when he had them in front of other people. But unless Orry told everyone that’s what had happened to him, folks could simply assume he left something in the car.
Except for the handful of folks on the porch who could probably see him standing here like a fool. Oh well, it couldn’t be helped. As his adrenaline waned and his fingertips stopped twitching, he caught the sound of rough scuffling nearby. George opened his eyes to an unexpected sight: Levi the trick rider.
He blinked hard, sure he was imagining him because of the sun glaring against his eyelids, but no. Levi stood a few feet away with a bottle of water in one hand and a small, almost shy smile on his face. “Hey,” Levi said. He held out the bottle. “Thought maybe you could use this.”
