Don't Let Go

by Andrew Grey

  “Samson.”

  Robert fed Samson the carrot as Samuel continued shaking his head.

  “You’re either the best horseman I have ever met or the dangedest plumb fool.” Samuel gave him another carrot, which he fed to Samson.

  “He’s been through a lot. But you’ve been treating him right.” Robert patted Samson’s nose and moved away as Samson shifted his weight from side to side in the stall, like a nervous child sure he was going to be punished. The horse calmed and went back to eating.

  “That’s Colton and Maisey. Colton is mine, and Maisey belongs to my son.” Samuel went to the last stall, and a jet-black head appeared. “This is Midnight Rendezvous. His mother is Maisey. She throws amazing foals, but she has a hard time, so I don’t breed her anymore. He’s fine with a saddle but needs some training. You said you worked with horses.”

  Robert slowly approached and introduced himself to Midnight, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He looked so much like Blacky Blue that his hand shook.

  “I’ve had a lot of offers for him, but don’t have the heart to let him go.”

  “I can see why.” He was so black, his coat looked blue and shimmered when he moved. Robert filled his water trough and gave him some hay and a few carrots. “He’s amazing.” Robert stroked Midnight’s nose before he pulled back inside to eat. Robert grabbed a broom from against the wall and swept out the barn. “This is a nice place you have here. Just needs some organization to make it look like it should.” He finished the sweeping and checked out the stalls. They needed cleaning, but he could do that in the morning.

  Samuel led him to the loft and showed him around. “If the weather is good, I let them out in the pastures during the day, and at night, give them some hay. There are predators sometimes.”

  “Then I’ll put them out and clean stalls tomorrow.” Robert checked around, examining the hay and restacking some bales that had fallen. He swept the loft floor as well, a few cats scurrying out of sight. Robert put the broom away and set out a couple bowls of water.

  “They’ll get what they need.”

  Robert nodded. “Don’t want them bothering the horses. They can mouse and hunt for food, but if you give them their own water, they won’t scavenge from the other animals.” As he backed away, the cats were already eyeing the bowls. At least the loft looked better and he had an idea of what needed to be used first. “Have you been doing all this alone?”

  “Mostly. My son helps when he’s here, but he’s gone quite a bit.” For the first time, Samuel sounded tired.

  “Then let me get to work. We can have this place in good shape in no time.” Robert descended the stairs, with Samuel following. The stalls could wait till morning, but there was a lot that needed to be cleaned up and put away. That could be done now.

  ROBERT WAS energized and actually whistling to himself as he finished up in the barn. All the tools were put away, and the tack room was straightened up so he knew where everything was. The wheelbarrows were convenient, but out from underfoot. Shovels and pitchforks hung where he thought they needed to go. All the horses had water and a little more hay for the night, and he’d snuck each one another carrot. It was best to make friends with his charges. He stood at the end of the barn, looking around, hands on his hips, pleased with his work for the day.

  The crunch of gravel from a vehicle pulling in caught his attention. Not that it had anything to do with him. Since it wasn’t time for dinner yet, he decided to bring down some fresh straw for the stalls, as well as some hay for the morning. He trudged up to the loft, and as shadows spread over the valley outside the barn windows, he dropped what he needed through a door in the loft floor and then headed back downstairs to stack the supplies where he could get them easily in the morning. Then he grabbed the broom to clean up again.

  “You’re the hand my father hired,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

  A tingle raced up his spine, and Robert knew his senses were betraying him. He’d been thinking of Zeke for the last few days, and now his imagination was getting the better of him. Slowly, Robert turned around.

  “It’s you?” Zeke’s lips curled upward into a smile. “Damn….” He rubbed his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “In Jackson? You talked about it, remember? You said how beautiful it was, and I thought I should check it out.” Robert brushed off his hands and set the broom inside the tack room.

  “I meant, here… at my family’s ranch?” Zeke came closer.

  “That was by accident. I didn’t know he was your dad when I met him this afternoon at lunch. He needed help, and I wanted a job. So here I am.” Robert shrugged. “It’s nice to see you.” He smiled as his heart beat a little faster. “When I saw you last, you were going to the hospital to see a friend. Is everything okay?”

  A cloud passed over Zeke’s features, and Robert got a pretty good picture that things were not okay. “He passed away. It was unexpected, but there was nothing the doctors could do. It happened so fast.” Zeke lowered his gaze, and Robert felt a desire to comfort him.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, unsure what else to do. He wasn’t sure how to act in a situation like this. The timing was lousy, but he still wondered. Did he have the right to kiss Zeke to try to make him feel better, or should he pretend that the night hadn’t happened? Maybe what happened in Cheyenne stayed in Cheyenne. He certainly hadn’t expected to see Zeke again, not that he was disappointed. Zeke looked amazing in skintight Wranglers and white T-shirt that clung to every muscle of his chest.

  Zeke shook it off. “Dad sent me out to get you for dinner.”

  “Let me run to the cabin and get cleaned up before I come in.” Robert walked past Zeke to the door.

  “All right….” Zeke sounded as unsure as he was, but as Robert strode around to the house, Zeke followed behind and right inside, then sat on the sofa. When Robert closed the door, Zeke just sat there, staring at the wall. “My friend who died….”

  “Was he an old lover?” Robert asked at the hurt in Zeke’s eyes.

  Zeke snorted. “No. Though he was my first love. We were friends a long time, and I had a crush on him once. I never told him because he was straight and I didn’t want things to get weird between us. It didn’t last very long.” Zeke sat back, spreading out his arms and legs.

  “I’m real sorry about your friend. Do you want to talk?” Robert asked, heading to the bedroom. “If you want some time to think, you’re welcome.” He closed the door most of the way and got undressed. He’d forgotten how dirty he got working like this—it had been a while. Robert started the water in the shower and pulled the curtain closed. He washed, wondering what Zeke wanted and if he was going to join him. But he finished showering alone, dried off, and dressed.

  Zeke was still in the same place, and Robert sat next to him. “You going to be okay?” God, he wished he hadn’t asked as soon as the words rolled past his lips. Not that he didn’t care, but he didn’t want to answer a bunch of questions about himself right now.

  “It’s just hard to believe he’s gone. That you’re here. That I don’t fucking know what to say to you about what happened in Cheyenne. Do we ignore it? Talk about it?” Zeke actually shivered at that one. “God, I suck at this.”

  Robert snickered. “You did the other night too.”

  Zeke rolled his eyes and actually smiled. Then Robert did what he’d been thinking about in the shower and tugged Zeke to him, kissing him gently at first until the heat built, and then pressed Zeke back onto the cushions. Damn, he was getting carried away… and he loved every second of it.

  “I guess I have my answer,” Zeke said softly. “But—”

  “As far as your dad, I’ll let you take the lead on that one.” Robert didn’t want to get between Zeke and his dad if Samuel wasn’t ready to see his son with another man. Knowing was one thing; seeing was something else. “I don’t want to cause trouble for either of you.”

  Zeke seemed more at ease but for the sadness in h
is eyes, and there was nothing Robert could do to ease that particular ache.

  “I’ll tell my dad that you’ll be there in a few minutes,” Zeke said and slowly got up off the sofa. He touched his lips and smiled slightly before leaving the cabin.

  Robert grabbed a pair of socks and his boots, and pulled them on before heading over himself. This was a strange and unexpected turn of events that Robert couldn’t say he was disappointed over.

  “THANKS, SAMUEL, for dinner and the beer. I appreciate it,” Robert said a few hours later, leaving after a rather tense couple of hours between Zeke and his father. There seemed to be so much unsaid between the two of them that hung there, suspended, just waiting to blow up in their faces.

  The night air had cooled nicely. It wasn’t nearly as hot and was the perfect kind of weather for sitting outside to watch the stars. He got his guitar and sat on the small back porch, his feet up on the railing.

  He tuned the guitar, strumming it softly. Tension he hadn’t known he was carrying slipped out of him. There was no one around; he wasn’t onstage or performing. This was only for him, and he let the words go where they wanted, his fingers picking out the accompaniment to the music that started in his head. That felt so good—to hear the chords and melodies again. They had been silent for far too long. Robert closed his eyes and let the music play, swirling around him like wisps of smoke that dissipated and formed once again, never staying the same.

  He wasn’t trying to compose or come up with some hit song. All he wanted was to be alone with his music for a little while. When things had gone bad at home, he’d turned to the one thing he could always count on to be there. When his dad sat him down to say that Blacky Blue was going to be sold with the rest of the ranch, he hadn’t cried or yelled. He’d taken his guitar and played until his fingers bled, letting his pain speak through the music. No one had heard it except for him, the sky, and Blacky Blue. He’d played for his horse so he wouldn’t forget him. Eventually that song had played in his head enough that he’d written it down, and “Goodbye Forever” had been his first hit some years later.

  Robert lost track of time and the music slowed, becoming less urgent. He continued playing until his fingers stopped, and Robert set aside the guitar, staring up at the sky dotted with a million stars, hands behind his head, listening to the crickets.

  Eventually he put his guitar inside and came back out to bring in the folding chair. “Zeke?” Robert said as a shadow grew larger around the side of the cabin.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” he said as he came closer.

  Robert stood in the doorway, light spilling out around him as Zeke approached.

  “I thought I heard music a few times. When I came outside, it had stopped.” Zeke stepped up to the porch. “I only heard it for a few seconds, but it was beautiful, and….” He shook his head. “It was probably my imagination. Carson always had the radio on. I swear he slept with it playing all night long. Must have driven his wife crazy.”

  “I play guitar sometimes, and I was picking out a few things before bed.” Robert didn’t want Zeke to think he was crazy, but he wasn’t going to give up too much either. “Is stuff okay with you and your dad?”

  “You noticed that, huh?” Zeke leaned on the railing, his arms crossed with his chin propped above. “I love my dad, I really do. But he’s stuck in the past. I know he doesn’t understand who I am or what I want, and most of the time he puts a brave face on it, but he won’t talk about anything… at least not with me.”

  “That’s fathers and sons sometimes. My dad and I talk, but we didn’t for a long time. I blamed him for the loss of the ranch and….” Robert raised his gaze. “The loss of Blacky Blue, my horse and best friend. I didn’t talk to him for a week and cut him out of my life for a long time. I dealt with Mom and liked to pretend that Dad wasn’t there at all. Eventually I was able to forgive him, and I grew up.”

  “My dad is already grown. I don’t think he’s going to change.” Zeke pushed off the railing and walked around to the three steps up to the porch. “And he isn’t going to try to understand that I don’t want the same things as, say, Carson did. Dad loves… loved him. He was perfect, as far as my father was concerned.” Zeke paused and leaned against the railing. “I want him to see me for who I am.”

  “Maybe you have to show him. Either that or you might need to change.”

  “You mean, try to go straight?” Zeke asked quietly.

  Robert chuckled. “Don’t you dare. I like you just how you are.” Robert reached out to take Zeke by the belt and tug him closer. “I mean that if you expect a man who doesn’t want to talk to carry the conversational load, things are going to get real quiet very fast.” He pulled Zeke against him. “I think we’ve done enough talking about parents and shit like that.”

  Zeke slanted his mouth over Robert’s, and Robert melted against him, letting Zeke plunder his mouth. He hadn’t been sure if Zeke would be up for anything like this with his friend’s death so recent, but it seemed that maybe Zeke might need to forget for a little while. And Robert was more than happy to oblige and spend a few hours exploring his compact, ripped cowboy body with hands, lips, and tongue.

  Chapter 4

  DAMN, ROBERT sure knew how to wear him out. Zeke cracked his eyes open, naked in Robert’s bed, the man snoring lightly next to him. It was comfortable and he wished he could stay right where he was for the rest of the night, but his father would not be happy that Zeke was “having relations” with his new hand, regardless of the fact that he and Robert had met at the rodeo before he’d been hired. Zeke could imagine what his father would say and didn’t want to have to listen to it.

  Carefully, Zeke disentangled himself from Robert’s embrace and found his clothes. He hated the thought of slipping out like he was ashamed of Robert, so after dressing in the dark living area, he found a pen and paper and wrote Robert a note, which he left beside the bed. It wasn’t mushy or anything, but he did explain that he’d needed to get back to the main house and that he planned to ride the fence to check for needed repairs in the morning. He quietly made his way out the back door and around to the main house by way of the barn.

  “Where have you been?” his father asked, pushing himself back in his chair where he’d been sleeping in front of the television.

  “Looking things over.” Zeke gave his prepared answer. “I wanted to see what needed to get done and the stuff we’d need to get when I went into town.” He had picked up the check from his win in Cheyenne and figured he’d spend some of it on ranch supplies to give his dad a break. “The paddocks are looking pretty worn, so I thought I’d pick up some planks to make repairs. I also need to fix that gate, and when I was driving in, I passed some fences along the west road that looked bad in places.”

  His father leaned forward. “What, you think I don’t do anything while you’re gone?” he snapped.

  “Jesus. It’s the family ranch and I was just saying.” Zeke’s own anger rose. “You know, you’re such a stubborn ass sometimes. I never said a damn thing about what you have or haven’t done. I noticed those things and was going to take care of them.” He glared at his dad, who glared right back. Sometimes the two of them were way too fucking much alike. “Stop being so prickly. You can’t do everything alone.”

  “That’s why I hired Robert. He’s going to help me when you go back out on the road again. You got the finals in Las Vegas that you need to get ready for, and I’m sure there are other events you’ll need to get to. I can handle shit here. I been doing it for forty fucking years now.” His dad growled, but behind it Zeke could tell he was tired.

  “I don’t know if I’m going to go back,” Zeke admitted and sat down. “Carson’s dead because of riding, and I gotta figure some stuff out.” His entire life and everything he thought he knew had been shaken to the core.

  His dad’s face softened. “I’m sorry….”

  “I know you are, Dad, but it isn’t going to bring Carson back. He’d told me before he collapsed th
at he was done. That it was his last event and he was going to find something else to do. And look what the hell happened. It was one ride too many.” Zeke clenched and unclenched his fists, then sighed. “I need some time. So don’t talk about it with anyone.” He shrugged. “And our new hand doesn’t need to know what I do for a living outside the ranch. I don’t want to make a big deal of this right now.”

  His dad leaned forward. “You’re a good rider and I’m proud of what you’ve done. It’s a hard sport.” He smiled. “You know I rode bulls when I was your age. Never as good as you, though. It was different then.” Nostalgia shone in his father’s eyes.

  Zeke appreciated that his father was proud of him. His dad didn’t reveal his feelings very often.

  “But what if my next ride is my ‘one ride too many’?” Zeke had been thinking about that a lot lately.

  “Is stopping now what you really want to do? You’re at the top of your game and could take the entire season, everything. You could possibly retire as the world champion if you held on.”

  Zeke stood. “Don’t you think I know that? I dreamed of being a champion after you took me to my first rodeo and I begged you to teach me how to ride. You set up the barrel and taught me how to grip the rope and hold my free hand. I’ve ridden as long as I can remember, and I have the scars to prove it.” He stepped closer. “I don’t know if I can do it anymore.” He inhaled deeply. “I’m feeling my mortality. I never used to think about getting hurt or dying. It was something that happened to someone else, but never me. Now I had to look it in the face, and I will again. Carson’s body is being brought back, and the funeral will be later this week.” He took a deep breath to clear his head. “I don’t want to argue with you about this.”

  “We aren’t fighting. You’re an adult and you have the right to make your own decisions, especially about something like this. I just don’t want you to regret your decision the way I did.” His dad always wished he would have kept on and gone for it. “In my day there was no Professional Bull Riders. You traveled from place to place and rodeo to rodeo. If people said you were the best, then you were.”