by Andrew Grey
Robert whimpered his agreement as wet heat surrounded him once more, and desire and passion rose inside him like molten lava in a volcano. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to hold off the explosion, but he didn’t care. Zeke petted his belly and then up to his chest, tweaking his nipples as he took him deep. The little zing of pain met the waves of pleasure, increasing their height, stripping away the last of Robert’s control. He ran his fingers through Zeke’s hair, trying to signal how close he was. He managed to squeak out a warning before tumbling into the abyss of release, sealing his eyes closed and letting it wash over him.
Once again, Robert was afraid to move, but this time pain had nothing to do with it. He didn’t want this floating to end. Zeke climbed off the bed and returned to wipe him up before leaving once again. Robert wanted to take care of Zeke, and when he joined him in bed, he tried, but Zeke tugged the covers up over him and held him tightly.
“I came when you did. Go to sleep and relax. If you’re good, we’ll do a repeat performance in the morning.”
The last thing Robert remembered was wondering if Zeke would still be there or if he’d have to leave to go back to the main house. But he was too tired to give it much thought, and sleep overtook him much more easily than he’d ever expected, with the tune he’d discovered with Zeke playing in his head, accompanying his dreams.
ROBERT DID indeed wake alone, and slowly got out of bed. His legs still ached, but not nearly as badly as they had last night, and once he stretched and limbered, he felt much better. It was still very early, but he wasn’t going to be able to go back to bed, so he shaved carefully. The last thing he wanted was his face to return to the look he’d sported onstage. Robert then dressed and grabbed his guitar, heading for the barn.
Clouds had the valley locked in a dull gray. He let the horses out into their paddocks, spot-cleaned the stalls, and filled the mangers and water troughs for later in the day. Then he pulled open the barn door to Midnight’s paddock and placed a stool in the center of the doorway so he could watch the horse romp through his field of vision. Midnight had so much energy, and even in the gray morning, his coat shone and glistened.
Softly, Robert strummed his guitar, playing the song that had run through his head all night long. It sounded even better out in the world. Midnight slowed his running and stood close, eating the grass as Robert continued playing. He needed to hear the tune again and again as lyrics floated through his head, but nothing settled. Robert put the guitar aside, watching Midnight and remembering his Blacky Blue. Loss washed over him. Instead of pushing it away, he let it build. The words were right there, and he snatched up the guitar, opening his mouth to sing.
“You play beautifully,” Zeke said, and like a needle lifting off a record, the music in his head silenced and he snapped his mouth shut. Zeke approached from behind him and touched his shoulder. “You never told me you were one of those musical cowboys.”
Robert sat with the guitar, wondering how he was going to explain this. “I got the guitar when I was a kid, and I used to play for my horse.” He breathed slowly. What he’d said was the truth, though not all of it.
“It looks like they like it.” Zeke motioned to Midnight and to the next paddock, where Samson stood near the fence. “For a while I didn’t think anything, or anyone, would be able to get through to him.”
“Samson is a good boy. He just needs to be able to associate people with kindness rather than abuse.” Robert kept his voice soft, and Samson moved closer to the fence, sticking his head over, trying to listen. “It will come in time. He knows me and your dad, and is interested in what I’m doing when I’m in the barn, so I make him come to me.” He stood and held the guitar, pushing the stool off to the side with his foot. Then he slowly pulled the door closed.
“I came to the cabin, and when you weren’t there, I figured you’d be in here.” Zeke pulled open the tack room door, and Robert set his guitar inside. It was probably best that he get it out of sight.
Moving the conversation to work was probably best too. “What do you need me to do this morning?” He had a list of things in his mind, but Zeke needed to give him the priorities.
“I’m going to do my best to get the four-wheelers going. Maybe you could check out the hay you found last night, see if it’s okay. That isn’t the best building for storing it, so if it’s okay, we should get it moved to the hayloft. It’s where we’ll need it eventually.”
“You probably should have used it first,” Robert offered, and Zeke nodded, but neither of them said anything about Samuel.
Robert made his way back, checking the grass for snakes as he went. He opened the door to the storage barn and walked the single aisle through the bales of hay. The inside seemed dry enough and clean. He pulled his truck around, backed it up to the door, and began unloading the bales. He stacked them high, drove the truck slowly to the barn elevator to the loft, and sent up the bales before getting more. He wasn’t moving quickly, and he figured he could stack the bales later, once they were up in the loft. With each trip, he passed near the locked shed and wondered what was inside. He thought of peering through the window since Zeke was busy, but held his curiosity at bay.
He got a lot of the bales pulled out before he started finding hay that had gotten wet and was starting to mold. Robert picked through to get everything that was still good.
He’d made at least eight trips when a low, throaty engine started, revving and dying multiple times.
“I got one!” Zeke called, happy as a kid at a candy store as he tore across the yard on the yellow four-wheeler. He raced up close to Robert and then sped back, turned off the engine, then started it again before shutting it down for the final time and returning to the shed.
By the time they stopped for lunch a couple of hours later, Robert had the good hay stacked in the loft, with the stuff that had gone bad still in the shed. Zeke had gotten the red four-wheeler going, so the morning seemed to have been productive.
“Let’s eat. I’m hungry, and you must be starved.” Zeke waited for him to close the shed door, and they climbed into Robert’s truck and headed to the main house. “You should take some time this afternoon to rest a little. You’ve been up for hours, and I can tell you’re still sore as hell.” Zeke patted his leg. “I don’t suspect Dad will be back for quite a while. He’ll do whatever he went in to do and then find some cronies to hang out and talk with.”
“Then I can make lunch,” Robert offered as they went inside. Even after he offered, Zeke helped him, and they worked together.
Robert’s phone vibrated in his pocket every five minutes, and he excused himself and went to the bathroom to see what was so urgent. He sighed and took a second to return Barry’s call.
“I know you’re off finding yourself or some such shit, but I got a call from Country Music Television. They want to do an entire hour-long show about you. They’ll profile you and your music, spend some time with you at home—” Barry went on until Robert broke in.
“What home? I’m selling that thing in Nashville, remember?” Robert’s voice rose, and he hushed himself.
“I put a stop to that. You need a showplace for the show,” Barry said, making it sound so reasonable.
“You what?” Robert practically screamed. “I told Glenn exactly what I wanted, and he was going to see to it that the house was prepped and then send me the papers so I could list it.”
“Well…,” Barry said sheepishly. “They really want to show you at home, and you need one of those in order to do that.”
Robert took a deep breath. “I am not setting foot in that house again except to clear my shit out. So here’s what’s going to happen. That house is going on the market, and I suggest you make that happen pretty damn quick. Understood?” He flushed the toilet, hoping it covered the sound of his voice. “I asked Glenn to do that directly. You talk to me before you countermand my requests.” Agents sometimes thought they knew best, but not in this case. “When do they want to do t
hat show?”
“In the fall. I proposed October to film,” Barry answered, his voice much more conciliatory.
“Then you let Glenn get that house sold, and maybe we can look for a new place for me to live in by then. I’m sure they’ll want to hear some new material.” Robert’s head ached, and he took deep breaths to calm down.
“Of course.”
“All right. Then here’s the deal. Offer them an exclusive new song that no one else has heard. Their audience can hear it first before anyone, and I will perform it live. But things happen when they happen. I’m starting to write again, but it’s slow, and shit like this phone call isn’t helping.” He washed his hands, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear.
“There is so much to do,” Barry said. “We need you to come back. After this show, there is going to be even more pressure for you to go on the road and—”
“When I return, hopefully with some new material, we’ll go into the studio. There’s no use going back on tour when there is nothing new to promote. You know that. Just give me some space. It’s what I really need.” It suddenly occurred to him that Barry hadn’t pressured him to know where he was, and that worried him. “I like it here. Washington is beautiful.”
“I thought you were in Wyoming,” Barry said.
“How did you know that? I haven’t told anyone, not even Glenn. Are you tracking my phone?” Robert was so mad, he was ready to reach through the line and throttle him. “Goodbye, Barry.” He hit End and was tempted to drop the damn thing in the toilet. How dare he!
“Lunch is almost ready,” Zeke called, and Robert dried his hands before returning to the kitchen. Robert knew Zeke had heard some of what he said. Not that Zeke actually said anything, but he kept looking at him like he was suddenly suspicious. Robert thought of trying to provide some explanation, but figured that would only raise more questions.
“Thank you for doing this,” he said softly. He bit into the thick sandwich Zeke had made for him. “I called my mom and asked her for her chicken-fried steak recipe. She sent it to me, so I’m going to try making it tonight.” He hoped he was up for it and did his mom proud.
“Great. I love chicken-fried steak, and we should have the fixings in the refrigerator. I bought some cube steak the last time I was in town.” Zeke got them each a soda from the refrigerator.
“I thought I’d ride out with you to check the herd, if that’s okay?” Robert offered.
“If you want. I thought you might want some time alone. With Dad gone, it could be a chance for some peace and quiet.” Zeke set his sandwich down, and Robert placed his hand on Zeke’s.
“Let’s ride out to check the herd. That’s going to be a lot more fun than sitting alone in the cabin.” Robert smiled and Zeke nodded.
“It would be nice to have the company.”
They shared a smile and then returned to their lunches, eating more quickly now. Robert cleaned up while Zeke made a few calls. Once they were ready to go, Zeke packed a bag for them to take, and soon enough they zoomed out over the range on four-wheelers, cutting the wind and having as much fun as Robert could remember.
It took a few hours to find the herd, check them all over, and then ride back. By then Samuel was back and inside his office with the door closed. Zeke went in to speak with him, and Robert used that time to retrieve his guitar from the tack room and return it to his cabin. He was going to need to be careful or his secret would be out, and then he’d have to go back to dealing with Barry and Glenn all the damn time. Robert liked it here, and his head was finally clearing of all the clouds. What he needed was just more time.
FOR THE next week, Robert got exactly what he wanted. They all fell into a routine, something he hadn’t had in a long time.
Then there was the day that Zeke went to his friend’s funeral, though. That had been a difficult day for him. Zeke had been quiet and withdrawn the rest of the day. That night, as Robert put away his guitar, Zeke had come to his cabin and they’d had one too many beers. Robert took him to bed and hugged Zeke as he cried himself to sleep. Just thinking about it choked Robert up, but he never mentioned it afterward. It was a private moment between the two of them, and Robert knew he was blessed that Zeke felt comfortable enough to share the loss with him.
Most days he got up alone, though he rarely went to bed that way, a situation he could get used to. That scared him a little, because he was going to have to leave eventually, and with each night spent together, the day he had to go loomed somewhere on the horizon, looking darker and darker to him.
Every morning, Robert went to the barn to see to the horses and put them in their paddocks. He took care of their stalls and made sure they were ready in case the horses needed to come in. Then he worked on the various chores and repairs. The best times were when he and Zeke went out to check the herd or the fences. It was just the two of them, away from the house. Those were amazing and simple… real. In the evening, he brought the horses inside and went to his cabin to work on his music until dinner. He’d written two songs that he was pleased with. Barry had been thrilled when he got them, and wanted more. At last the drought was over.
“Robert,” Zeke said as he was finishing up with the horses. It was raining, so he planned to leave them in the barn. Midnight wasn’t too happy about that, but Robert gave him a few carrots, and he settled down to munching his hay. “I’m worried about Dad.”
Robert had to admit that Samuel seemed different from when they first met, almost reclusive. “Does your dad always disappear into his office all the time?” That would explain why the ranch had needed so many repairs when he’d first arrived.
Zeke shook his head. “Dad was always out here working with me. It was what we did for years. He was too stubborn to hire help and did a lot of things himself.” He turned toward the house, where his father was holed up again.
“Maybe he’s not feeling well,” Robert offered. “Do you know when he last went to the doctor?”
Zeke shrugged. “I’ve thought about that. I went through his bathroom when he was out. There aren’t any pills or stuff like that other than aspirin and one for blood pressure that he’s taken for years.” He hoisted a bale of hay and carried it over to drop it on top of another against the wall. “Something is worrying him and he won’t talk about it.”
“Did you ask?” Robert grabbed one of the horse blankets and threw it over the top bale before sitting on it.
“Yeah. He told me there was nothing wrong, and for a few hours, he was fine. Then he went back to the office again.” Zeke stood right in front of him, shifting his weight from side to side, turning to look at the door. “I went in there to try to figure out what’s going on but found nothing. Has he said anything to you?”
Robert shook his head. “No. He tells me what he wants done and that’s about all. I thought that maybe he was distant because I was always around at meals and stuff and he didn’t want to talk in front of me.” He took Zeke’s hand. “I don’t know your dad that well, and I wish I could do something to help.” He squeezed his fingers. The turmoil inside Zeke tore at his heart. Robert would do anything he could if his dad was acting like Samuel…. “Shit,” Robert whispered as a tingle went up his spine.
“What is it?”
“My dad acted the same way a few months before they took the farm. He was withdrawn and worried all the time. Does your dad have any loans? Have you talked to the bank?”
Zeke sighed. “I tried, but they couldn’t tell me anything. I’m not on the deed to the ranch. It’s his alone, so I have no standing.” He leaned closer. “I’ve even tried getting the mail to see what’s being sent, but I’m usually out and Dad gets it.”
“Confront him, and do it sooner rather than later. He may get angry, but you have to do it. If there is something wrong, it will only get worse with time, not better.” It was the best advice Robert had. “Whatever it is, letting it sit isn’t going to fix it.”
Zeke nodded and leaned down to kiss Robert and stroked h
is cheek. “I’d better do it now and get it over with.”
He turned to leave, and Robert wished he could do more to help. Zeke was hurting, and Robert’s heart ached right along with his. In the time it took Zeke to close the barn door, Robert knew what that meant, and it made his heart beat faster and scared him to death at the same time. This was supposed to be a chance for him to reconnect with his music, not fall in love.
Robert needed something to do and thought it was a good time to work with Samson. He closed all the doors and walked over to Samson’s stall. “You want to come out with me?” he asked softly before getting a lead and slowly opening his stall door. He attached the rope and gently led Samson out into the center of the barn. He grabbed the cross ties and fastened them on either side of the aisle. Samson had room to move, but not too much.
Without making any fast movements, Robert got a currycomb. Samson’s coat was rough, since he hadn’t let anyone near him in a while. Robert combed him gently, getting the loose hairs out of his coat. Samson’s muscles rippled and he shifted slightly but remained calm and seemed to like the attention.
Once he was combed and the loose hair littered the stable floor, Robert got the brush. “You’re a really good-looking boy, aren’t you?” He continued working, being gentle with Samson’s right hind leg. A scar ran over his flank, and Samson grew nervous, prancing a little as Robert approached that spot. Robert pulled the brush away and patted him gently, smoothing his hand over the area, moving slowly and steadily. There was no way Robert was going to hurt him, but he needed Samson to associate his touch with gentleness and caring. He didn’t push and moved away when he thought Samson had had enough. He’d try a little more tomorrow.
“I wish you could see yourself,” he told Samson softly. “You look beautiful.” He patted his neck and fed him a few carrots, which Samson took much more carefully than he had just a week earlier. He wasn’t sure anyone would be able to ride Samson, but he was getting used to being around people again.
