Cowboys Don't Come Out: A Coming Out, Must-love-kids, Two Step Dancing, Hawaii for the Holidays MM Romance

by Tara Lain

  Kai half nodded and took off toward the parking lot. When the kids were buckled in, he scattered some gravel and sand with a pretty fast exit onto the road.

  Aliki said, “What’s wrong, Kai?”

  Lani turned toward him too.

  Try to sound calm. “Uh, did either of you know about that plane that had trouble with its landing gear that came from Kahului?”

  Aliki strained his seatbelt to sit forward in the back seat. “No. What happened?”

  Lani said, “I heard something about it. But everyone was okay, right? When did it—” She clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh no. Uncle Rand.”

  Kai swallowed. “Yeah. Audrey thinks it was his plane.”

  Aliki about shrieked. “Oh no. Is he okay?”

  “Yes, yes. He’s fine. No one was hurt. Don’t worry.”

  Lani stared at Kai but said calmly to Aliki, “But you remember how Uncle Rand hates heights? Remember how scared he was after he rescued Kai?”

  “Yeah.” Aliki kind of whimpered. Shit, he’d scared the kid.

  “So Kai and I are just worried that he might have gotten really scared on that plane.”

  “Kai.” Aliki snuffled. “Kai, haven’t you even called him? Why are you so mean to him?” The snuffling turned to full tears. “He saved your life. He’s our friend. He likes us. He even knew what I wanted for—Christmas.” The last came out on a wail and the crack, hidden so deep in Kai’s heart, shattered into a million pieces.

  “It’s okay, Aliki. I’m stupid sometimes. We’re gonna go home and call him, okay? We’ll all talk to him and tell him we’ve been thinking about him, okay?”

  “Have you, Kai?” Sniffle. “Have you been thinking about him?”

  Kai glanced in the rearview mirror at the tear-stained face. “Yeah.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kai drove a little faster than optimum in the old truck. Damn, I’d really like to talk to Rand on my own. But he’d promised Aliki, so that was that.

  They pulled up in front of the house, he parked quickly, and they all hurried inside. Kai sat on the couch—where the reception was usually best—and the kids pressed near him, Aliki sitting on the floor and Lani on the couch next to him. He took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes.” He glanced at the phone. “What time is it there?”

  Lani looked at the phone too. “Three hours later than here.”

  “So he’s probably still working.”

  “Try anyway.” Aliki shook Kai’s arm.

  “Okay.” He found the number Rand had given him and hit Send.

  Silence.

  Kai shook his head.

  More silence, then the beeping that meant no service. Shit. He held the phone out for the kids to hear. “Not going through. We’ll try again in a few minutes, okay?”

  Lani stood. “I’m going to go change.”

  Aliki hopped up too. “Can I go out and play for a while?”

  “Sure.”

  Both kids scattered, leaving Kai staring at his phone. God, some fucking friend I am. Rand could be dead, and I wouldn’t even know. He wiped a hand over his face. Yeah, I would. If the world lost all that kindness and bravery at one time, things would shrivel and die. I’d be one of them. He let his head drop into his hands.

  The warm hand on his hair brought his face up. Lani smiled. “You okay?”

  “Lots of people been asking me that question.”

  “I know. You want to yell at me too?”

  He shook his head. “It’s just that I don’t know the answer.”

  She sat next to him. “Yes, you do.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. You’re heartbroken.”

  “I am?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “Because you lost the one you love.”

  He frowned. “Lani—”

  She sat next to him. “Come on, Kai. I always wondered why you never seemed to be girl-crazy. I figured it was because you had so much responsibility taking care of us, you just shoved down all your natural instincts.” She smiled. “Then I saw you look at Rand, and I finally understood what it took to capture you.” She tightened a hand on his arm. “I should have known you’d only fall for a superhero.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Don’t be silly. Why would I ever want less than happiness for you?”

  “No one can know.”

  “Because of us, right?”

  “Yes. We can’t give people any reason to look at us too closely.”

  She sighed deeply. “You’ve given up so much for us. So much.”

  “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

  She wrapped her arms tightly around him. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

  He pulled back so he could see her eyes. “How do you figure that? I doubt paniolos were any more in favor of being gay than most cowboys.”

  “Maybe your father was gay too.”

  He cocked a half grin. “Don’t you think me being here is evidence that he wasn’t?”

  “Not necessarily. Lots of gay men produce children.”

  A laugh escaped. “Have you been doing research on homosexuality?”

  She gave him a sideways glance with those black eyes. “Yep.”

  “I love you, you know.”

  “Love you back. No one could have raised us better.”

  He hugged her tight with one arm and blinked against the heat pushing at his eyeballs. “Shall we try Rand again?”

  “Yes.” She stepped back. “I’ll get Aliki.”

  “This won’t change anything, you know. He’s there. We’re here.”

  She nodded, and the pain crept back into her eyes. “I know.”

  “Okay. I’ll try. Check on Aliki in case I get through. He’ll kill us both if he doesn’t get to talk to his Uncle Rand.” He made a face, but his hands trembled.

  Lani walked to the small front window as Kai poised his finger over the Send button and took a deep breath.

  “Kai!”

  He looked up at Lani, her face a mask of terror. She pointed toward the window.

  “What? What is it?”

  “Police. Coming this way. Aliki!” She started toward the door.

  “No. Run. Out the back like we practiced. Go!”

  Everything in her seemed to tear apart, but finally she turned and raced down the hall toward her bedroom, where they kept the little bag of clothes, money, and a pay-as-you-go cell phone.

  The front door burst open, and Aliki ran in. “Kai! Kai. No, please.” He hurled himself into Kai’s arms just as the policeman, Mrs. Guthrie, and a woman Kai had never seen came to the open door.

  The woman said, “Kai Kealoha?”

  “Yes. What’s the meaning of this?”

  Mrs. Guthrie glared at him. “After our last meeting, we did some investigation. It took considerable digging into records, but we’ve discovered that your mother is, in fact, dead and these children are living here without any parental supervision or support.”

  Kai frowned viciously. “I’m their brother. I support them and supervise them. They have a perfectly decent life.”

  Mrs. Guthrie sneered, “How old are you?”

  He sucked a little air. “Twenty-three.”

  “Just one more of your lies. According to county records, you’re twenty. Dear God, you’ve been harboring these children since you were sixteen. Children taking care of children.”

  He looked at the other women. “Ma’am, we receive no welfare or support from the state or anyone else. The kids are great students and never miss a day of school.”

  “Nonsense.” Mrs. Guthrie crossed her arms. “That boy is hyperactive and probably needs psychological counseling as well as a healthy dose of Ritalin.”

  Kai hugged Aliki tight. “Over my dead body.”

  The woman stuck out a hand. “Enough. Mr. Kealoha, I’m Marjorie Makeha. I’m with Children’s Welfare Services.” She looked around at their small house. Shit, probably all she sa
w was shabby. “I’m a little at a loss here. Ordinarily, we would simply place Aliki with his other parent or relative until a hearing, but as best we’ve been able to determine, he has no living relatives.”

  “He has me.”

  She sighed and glanced at the silent cop. “Unfortunately, since you hid your mother’s death and never applied for guardianship—”

  “Who’d give guardianship to a sixteen-year-old?”

  “I understand.”

  Mrs. Guthrie snarled, “You’re nothing but a liar.”

  Stay calm. You can only hurt Aliki if you fly off the handle. “The fact is that I support Aliki and take care of him. I’m his family. He wants to be here with me. I’m over eighteen and a responsible adult.”

  Marjorie Makeha nodded. “That may be the case. The court could easily rule in favor of the children remaining with you, but in light of the uncertainty of relationship, I need to take Aliki and Lani with me for the short term.”

  Aliki burrowed further into Kai’s arms. “No. I want to stay here. Don’t let them take me, please, Kai. Please.” Tears flowed down his face.

  Guthrie looked around. “Please tell Lani to come out here.”

  Kai shook his head. “She’s not here. She’s visiting a girlfriend’s family on the other side.”

  “That’s a damned lie. One more of your constant string of lies.”

  He just stared at her until she dropped her eyes then looked back at Ms. Makeha. “Please don’t take Aliki away from me. Please.”

  The woman glanced again at Guthrie and the cop. “It will only be for a couple of days. They’ll have the hearing right away.”

  Aliki sobbed, and Kai couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. He pressed his face into his brother’s neck and cried.

  Rand drew in a breath and stared at his phone. I’d rather do this in person. But the drive to Orange County where his parents lived took eight hours, and he sure as fuck wasn’t going to fly. Besides, the post-New Year’s business boom that Manolo had promised definitely came to pass. He couldn’t afford to leave the ranch.

  So why do this?

  It’s time. Past time.

  It accomplishes exactly zero.

  Sometimes zero is all you can expect.

  He dialed.

  “Rand, how nice to hear from you.” Yeah, she sounded surprised. He didn’t call enough.

  “Hi. I, uh, wanted to thank you again for my wonderful trip.”

  “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Did you have fun during your extra days, despite the frightening way it ended?”

  “Uh, yeah. That’s partly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Oh. Okay. Do you want me to get your father on the phone too?”

  Jesus, pressure much? “No. That’s okay.”

  “So what is it, dear? You sound funny. Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  “Business is good?”

  “Great.” Crap, he needed to get his head together. “Just give me a second.”

  “Oh, all right—”

  He inhaled long and slow. The phone vibrated, and he looked down. Who the hell’s that? The area code said Hawaii, but not Kai. Jesus.

  “Rand?”

  “Sorry, Mom, my other line is ringing. I’m going to put you on hold for a second.”

  “You’re worrying me.”

  “No worries. Be right back.” He clicked on the second call. “Hello?”

  “Uncle Rand! They’ve got Aliki!”

  “What? Lani?”

  “Yes. Child Welfare. I watched them. They took him away. Oh God, he must be so scared.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I ran away. They didn’t get me. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Take a breath. Do you have a place to go?”

  “Yes. Auntie. I don’t think they know who she is.”

  “Okay. Go there.”

  “What if they won’t let Kai keep him? Keep us?”

  “Don’t worry. That won’t happen.”

  “Oh Rand, I’m so sorry for calling you. This isn’t your problem.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Lani, why did you call me?”

  “It was the first thing I thought of?”

  “Why?”

  “Because—because—you love us.”

  He smiled tightly. “Yep, that’s why. Go to Auntie’s now. I’ll talk to you soon.” He clicked to transfer the call. “Mom, I have a huge problem. I need to talk to Dad.”

  “But you were about to tell me something—”

  “Oh, right. I’m gay. I need to talk to Dad now.”

  Kai paced outside the hearing room. Every cell trembled. He’d spent the morning with Aliki at the group home where they’d kept him for the last two days. Of course, Aliki’d made friends with the other kids and was teaching them all video game playing on the house TV set. The supervisors had been good about letting Kai be with Aliki except at night. Shit, he’d blown off work for most of two days. If he got Aliki back, he’d have trouble feeding him. If. Shit. I thought what I was doing was for the best, but now? Now they suspected him of being every kind of felon because he’d lied for so long. And Lani—

  “Mr. Kealoha, you can come in.” A woman held the door open.

  Kai sprang up and hurried into the room. Some official-looking dude sat at the end of a conference table, and Marjorie Makeha sat beside him with Aliki squirming in the seat next to her. When Kai walked in, Aliki smiled. Shit, he must be so certain I’m going to take him home. Wish I was.

  Marjorie pointed to a chair. “Please be seated, Mr. Kealoha.”

  He sat. The official-looking guy peered up from a pile of papers in front of him. “Kai, I’m Hector Adachi. I’ll be hearing your case.”

  Kai nodded, throat too dry to speak.

  “Where’s your sister?”

  Shit. Right to the heart of the matter. “Uh, I don’t know, sir.”

  The judge frowned.

  “When the police came, she got scared. She ran to the back of the house. When I went to check on her, she was gone.”

  “But you don’t seem too worried about her.”

  Kai’s eyes met the judge’s. “She has a lot of friends.” Not really true, but it would keep the cops off her until he figured out what the fuck to do.

  A loud rapping on the door sent the woman who was taking notes rushing to open it. Holy crap!

  Mrs. Orwell, her daughter, and Rand’s friend, Julie, all pushed past the clerk into the room. Mrs. O. smiled at Kai, then leveled her gaze on the judge. “My name is Althea Orwell, this is my daughter Genevieve Angelo, and our friend, Julie Durst.”

  Friend? How in the hell did those three meet?

  She lowered her brows formidably. “We may look like a herd of meddling haoles to you, but in fact, we’re friends of Kai, Aliki and Lani. We want to make it clear that the children have excellent care from their brother and a community—namely us—who are there to support them. It may appear the children don’t have a grandmother, but I assure you, I am one.”

  Aliki pumped the air. “Go, Mrs. O.!”

  The judge smiled, but his eyes stayed wary. “This is a lovely performance, ladies, but we’re here to determine what kind of home life the children have. To be assured that they aren’t in danger and aren’t being neglected. Mr. Kealoha is not their parent and therefore doesn’t have parental rights. Neither do you, despite your best intentions. So please sit down and let us get to the truth of these matters.”

  Mrs. O. took the chair next to Kai. He smiled at her and whispered, “Did Lani call you?”

  She shook her head.

  The judge cleared his throat.

  So it must have been Rand. Kai’s heart slammed against his chest, and he had to catch his breath. Maybe Lani called Rand. She shouldn’t have. Still, the guy can muster the troops when he wants to. So kind of him. Hell, it can’t hurt for the judge to know local people care about the kids.

  The judge plunged in. “How long has your
mother been dead?”

  Holy shit. He didn’t mess around. “Four years.”

  “Why wasn’t someone in your community aware she was dead?”

  He shifted in his chair. “She died in Lahaina. She was a drug addict. I guess she died and no one knew who she was. We made some inquiries and finally found out.”

  “Why were authorities never informed?”

  He stared at his hands. “We expected someone to come and get us any day, but they never did. I got a job and started taking care of us. Nobody seemed to know, so we went on as before.”

  “You were sixteen.”

  Kai nodded.

  “It never crossed your mind to tell the authorities yourself?”

  Kai’s eyes snapped up. “Why? Nobody ever took care of us when she was running drugs through the house, vomiting on the carpet, and bringing home men who threatened Lani. Bullshit—your honor. The law’s so hung up on parental rights, they miss the big picture. I’m their parent. I take care of them. They’re my kids.”

  The judge sat back. “Sadly, the law doesn’t necessarily agree with you, Mr. Kealoha. You’re barely more than a kid yourself.”

  The hammering on the door made him jump a foot.

  The judge frowned. “Who the hell is it now?”

  The clerk opened the door.

  Kai stared. Aliki leaped from his chair, ran around the table, and hurled himself into the air, knowing there would be arms to catch him. “Uncle Rand!”

  Rand grabbed Aliki and carried him into the room. Dressed in full cowboy attire, he had to be posing for a fucking movie poster. Next to him, Rand’s dad, decked out in a suit that could have bought the courthouse, stood with briefcase in hand. He produced a card from his pocket. “Sir, I’m Elson McIntyre of McIntyre, Green, and Olivera out of Newport Beach, California. We’re fully licensed in the state of Hawaii, and I’ll be representing Mr. Kealoha and Mr. Kahele in this matter.”

  The judge stared at the card. “Mr. McIntyre, why in hell is one of the nation’s leading litigators interested in a child welfare case in Hana, Hawaii?”

  “Because I think of this boy as my own grandson, and I won’t see this kind of treatment of his brother, whom any child in America would be lucky to have on their side.”