by Andrew Grey
Robert put Samson back in his stall and brought out Midnight to groom him as well. He was young and needed to be trained. Robert wished he was going to be here long enough to do it. Midnight was an amazing horse, and Robert leaned against him, inhaling his scent. It always took him back. Damn it all, he wasn’t expecting to fall in love with Zeke, or with Midnight, and he was doing both. Maybe it was time for him to move on.
The rain had stopped by the time he put Midnight into his stall. Clouds still hemmed in the valley, so he left the horses inside. He checked their food and water before looking over the list of things he needed to try to get done.
Water dripped off everything when he stepped outside. The valley needed the rain, so he wasn’t complaining. Still, he had things to do. Without thinking, he turned toward the main house, hoping to see Zeke, but it was quiet, so he climbed in his truck and headed out to where Zeke had reported another weak spot in the fence. He might as well get that done.
Robert was soaked from the wet grass and caked with mud to the knees by the time he’d replaced one of the posts and restrung the wire. But the job was done, and he drove back to his cabin to change and scrape the mud off his boots. He showered, grateful for the hot water to wash away the mud and dirt, then dried himself and dressed in fresh, clean clothes.
At a soft knock, he opened the door, expecting Zeke, but Samuel stood on the stoop.
“Is Zeke here?”
“No, I haven’t seen him in hours.” Robert peered outside. Zeke’s truck wasn’t in the driveway. “I was out at the east fence line. He must have left while I was gone.”
Samuel turned and walked away without saying another word, but Robert could read people well enough to know that things hadn’t gone well.
Chapter 6
ZEKE TURNED into the ranch drive, his heart still pounding. He was so angry with his father that when he saw him standing on the front porch, he nearly backed out of the drive again, just to get away for a while.
He pulled to a stop and got out of the truck. “Where’s Robert?” he asked.
“You and I need to talk,” Samuel said, but Zeke shook his head. “I could have handled things just fine.”
Zeke stalked to the porch. “Don’t go blaming this mess on me. You were the one who didn’t plan. Now we’re sitting on a pile of debt that you can’t pay, and it’s going to cost us our home.” He pressed the receipts into his father’s hand. “I brought the loan current and paid this month. But it took everything I made in Cheyenne to do it.” He sighed and turned away once again.
“Zeke, I….” His dad gaped, and Zeke stopped.
“Look, I don’t know what we’re going to do going forward. I don’t have enough to pay everything until we can take part of the herd to market. I got us paid up until today, but you and I need to figure some shit out.” Zeke closed his eyes. “But I can’t do that now. I’m too damn angry.” He turned toward the cabin. The one cost-saving measure they could take right away was to let Robert go. The thought sent a spike of loss racing through his chest, but they had no choice. Zeke still had some money put away, but not enough to float the entire ranch until fall. “Just give me a little time to take all of this in, okay?” He wasn’t ready to let his father off the hook, but he didn’t want to be angry with him either. Ranching was a tough life, and some years were harder than others. He’d always thought that he and his dad were a team, but obviously his father didn’t feel the same way if he was keeping things from him until they got this bad.
His father turned and went back inside without saying anything. Zeke took that as acceptance. He wanted to try to figure a way out of this, but his mind went in too many directions to get a clear picture. This whole thing could have been avoided if his dad had only talked to him.
Zeke needed some time to himself but was at loose ends and didn’t know what to do. He had work he could do, but needed to think. He strode around to the back and pulled out his keys, unlocked the shed door, and turned on the lights. He closed it after him, locked it, and looked around, then put a piece of cardboard over the window. Now he was alone. Zeke powered up the bucking machine and set it on a moderate setting with a ten-second delay, started it, and got on. The machine moved, and he rolled with it, needing something to take his mind off their dire financial straits.
In the past week or so, he’d dared to hope a number of things, including that he might give up rodeo and return to the ranch. But that couldn’t happen. The decision had been stripped away from him. He needed to make money to get them through. That was all there was to it. The next rodeo was in a few weeks. He’d already registered, so all he needed to do was show up and ride like the fires of hell were after him.
He let his mind wander and fell off, landing on the padding around the mechanical bull as it came to a stop. If he was going to have a chance at winning anything, then he needed to get his head in the game and out of his ass… or his crotch. He turned up the machine, climbed on, and went back at it. This was serious—if he was to save everything he and his father had, then he was going to have to train, pure and simple. He’d hoped he could be just Zeke for a while, but it looked like Hy Whitely was the one who was going to have to make it happen, or he and his dad were going to lose their home.
ZEKE WORKED for hours. Getting his rhythm and form back was easy. What was harder was getting his mind in the right place, but that was coming around. He’d set the machine on the highest setting and had stayed on long enough to push everything else from his head. By the time he was done, his head was back in the game. He shut everything down, turned out the lights, and left the shed. As he came around the corner of the house, Robert stood outside the barn, watching him.
In one day, Zeke’s life had gotten so much more complicated. He’d only wanted a few weeks to be himself. He was still working through losing Carson, and continued to wonder when his “one ride too many” would come. That was a bad thing for a bull rider. Invincibility was his cloak and what got him through the rides. Yeah, he could get hurt with every ride, but he never went into one worrying about it. When he’d started training, he’d wondered if he was going to get hurt riding the damned machine. But now Zeke didn’t have a choice, as he only had two weeks to figure his shit out.
Zeke’s entire being screamed for him to go to his room and hide for a while. That hadn’t happened since his mother died. Losing her had left a hole in his life and Zeke feeling completely broken, and right now, he was like that kid again. He’d lost Carson, he had to work out a way to save his home, and his emotions were churned up and seemed to go in circles. It also looked like he had to let go of Robert in order to have a possibility of saving his home.
“Zeke,” Robert called, and he stopped, turning slowly as he steeled himself inside. This was not going to be pretty. “Are you okay? Samuel was looking for you earlier.”
Zeke nodded. “I talked to him.”
“Did everything go well in town? I made sandwiches and left some for you.” Robert didn’t ask where Zeke had been, and he didn’t volunteer anything.
“Thanks. Are you about done for the day?”
Robert shook his head. “I have to see to the horses, and then I was going to clear out that shed of that hay we can’t use. Is there anything else you want?”
“No. Just loosen the bales and put them out for the cattle. They’ll be able to eat what the horses won’t. If it’s too bad, just spread it behind the barn.” Zeke pointed. “It’ll keep weeds out of that area until it breaks down.” He hated that kind of waste, but there was nothing to be done about it now other than keep a closer eye on things.
“Okay.” Robert turned to walk away, and something inside Zeke pushed him forward. He raced after Robert and caught him by the waist. To hell with his dad or anyone else. He turned Robert around and slotted his lips over his, kissing him as hard and demanding as possible.
Robert closed his arms around him, hugging him tight, returning the kiss with enough energy to send sparks coursing through him, light
s flashing behind his eyes.
“I….”
“Hey, sweetheart.” Robert held his cheeks in his big hands. “Whatever’s gotten into you, I’m not going to complain.”
“Well… you might….” Zeke sighed softly. “Look, we both have work to do, but once we’re done, I think you and I need to talk.” He wasn’t ready to do that yet, but some time to think would at least prepare him to explain. “We’ll talk, I promise you.”
Robert didn’t let him go, his hands warming his skin. “I think we need to.” His gaze bored into him, and Zeke found it hard to breathe. He didn’t move for a long time, and Zeke could have basked in the warmth of his touch and the heat of his gaze for hours, but he stepped back and waited for Robert to move along, taking in his walk before going to get a quick dinner.
THE CRUSH of tires on the drive outside, followed by more crunching, drew his attention. Zeke got up from the table and took his dishes to the sink.
“What the hell is going on?” his father asked, glaring at Zeke as he came out of his office. “What did you do?”
“Me?” Zeke asked.
“Well, why are there news vans out there from all the local channels?” His dad pointed, and Zeke went to the front window. “Did you make some announcement that you were retiring or something? I know Carson’s death hit you hard, but did you have to tell everybody so soon?”
“I haven’t told anybody anything like that.” He glared at his dad. His dad had to know Zeke was going to have to return to rodeo so he could clear up the financial mess he had made. But there was no use arguing about that again when he had half of the western Wyoming news media outside his door.
“You better see what they want,” his dad said, staying behind him.
Zeke went to the door and stepped outside. He walked to the edge of the porch, and five reporters crowded around him.
“You’re Hy Whitely,” one of the reporters said, surprise ringing in his voice.
“Yes,” Zeke answered. There was no sense denying it. “What do you want and why are you here?” He tried to think of anything he’d done that could possibly be newsworthy.
“Where is Avery Rivers?” a woman asked, shoving a microphone in his face. Zeke shook his head and kept his mouth closed. “He’s been seen in town, and reports are that he’s on this ranch.” She put the microphone in front of him once again.
Zeke stepped back, looking at all of them like they were crazy. “I don’t know where you got your information, but—”
Robert stepped out of the barn, and Zeke started to signal him to go back inside.
“There he is!” someone shouted from the back of the small group, and they rushed over to Robert like a pack of hungry wolves and crowded around him, shoving microphones in his face. Zeke hurried over too. Robert looked seconds from panic. Zeke caught the pleading in his eyes as all of the reporters shifted closer.
“Mr. Rivers, why are you here?”
“I think the better question is, why are all of you here?” Robert asked them in return, and Zeke stepped back. It was true—Robert was really Avery Rivers, the biggest country music star of the decade. He’d been at the rodeo and on his ranch and he’d never recognized him… not even close.
“Is it true that you haven’t written anything in a year?” another reporter asked as Robert took a step back, closer to the barn.
“What in sam hill is going on out here?” Zeke’s dad demanded, and all eyes turned to him. “This is my ranch, and you ain’t got permission to be here. I think it’s best if all of you leave. The sheriff is already on his way to make sure you do. This is private property, and you all have two minutes to get off or you’ll be arrested for trespassing. And you better not be parking alongside the road unless you want tickets for creating an obstruction.” He placed his hands on his hips, and danged if the reporters and camera people didn’t start heading for their trucks.
“Did you know who he was?” one reporter, who looked fresh out of college, with an eager puppy-dog expression, asked as he passed Zeke. Zeke was so shocked, he didn’t quite know what to say, and the damn reporter chuckled at him. “That’s priceless. You all really had no idea.” He grinned as he walked back toward the van and got in, shaking his head, while the others pulled off the property.
“Robert…,” Zeke called as he went inside the barn. When he entered, he didn’t see Robert right away, but found him with Midnight, brushing him down. “Is it true?” Even as he asked the question, Zeke knew the answer. He saw the resemblance in the shape of his face and eyes, and the singing now made sense.
“Yes.” Robert didn’t turn away from his task.
“Why did you pretend to be someone else?” Zeke asked. “Robert Cummings? Is that some made-up person? Were you playing me and my dad for fools or something?” His heart beat faster, and he wondered if the person he was falling for was real or just some figment of this Robert… Avery… whoever’s imagination. It felt like the ground under Zeke was opening up by the second. He’d take a bucking bull over this any day.
“Robert is my real name. Avery is my middle name, and Rivers is my mother’s maiden name.” Robert put the brush aside and patted the horse’s neck.
“Boy, you got yourself some explaining to do.” Samuel strode into the barn.
“I suppose I do,” Robert agreed, but there was no fight in his voice. He left the stall and joined the two of them. “I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. I took the job because I needed some time away from my life.” He glanced around and sat down on one of the hay bales. “I’ve been on tour for months and was worn out. So I told my people to leave me alone, cut my hair, shaved off the beard, and tried to disappear for a while. There was nothing devious about it.” Robert blinked multiple times. “I needed a chance to be myself instead of the country music performer who everyone seems to want a piece of.” He leaned forward, taking his head in his hands.
Zeke found himself nodding. He could understand that. “But you lied to us.”
His father scowled at him. “And I suppose you’ve been honest and a paragon of virtue and told him that you’re Hy Whitely when you’re at the rodeo.” His father put his hands on his hips. “Don’t be so high and mighty when you’re living in a big glass house yourself.” He shook his head. “I’m going out to check on the herd while you two figure your shit out.”
“Samuel,” Robert said. “You don’t mind?”
Samuel pulled his hat off his head. “A man has got a right to his privacy and some secrets, I suppose. And this place hasn’t looked better in a long time.” He fanned himself a few times before plopping his hat back on his head. “Now, you two should talk about what’s going on between you.” His dad looked to both of them, then headed to the door. “And don’t think I don’t know where you been sneaking off to most nights.” He pulled the barn door closed, and Zeke groaned.
“Guess there aren’t any secrets from your father,” Robert quipped.
“Yeah.” Zeke had thought he’d been careful, but Dad was more observant than he’d thought. He was certainly closemouthed. “I guess that means he doesn’t mind.” Which was kind of a shock. Zeke had expected his father to give him some grief. “But you have some secrets.”
“So do you. I watched you win at the rodeo and I didn’t recognize you, though I didn’t have the best seats.”
“And the picture they were using on the monitors was a few years old.” Zeke had to admit he’d held back part of himself as well. Zeke sighed. “The friend who died, Carson… he was my rodeo traveling partner.”
“The guy who got thrown so hard on the first day?” Robert asked, and Zeke nodded.
“They didn’t realize that he’d hurt his spine until it was too late. It swelled up and pressure built from there to his brain. At least that’s what they think. So I wanted to be me for a while.”
“So I guess you also use a stage name?” Robert asked as Zeke sat next to him.
“My real name is Hezekiah. Mom and Dad always called me Zeke
. But for riding I went with Hy and I changed the last name a little. Most everyone in town knows who I am, and they leave me and Dad alone. I’m just another guy, though they usually ask me to ride in one of the town parades.” He sighed. It seemed too stupid now. Zeke couldn’t run from who he was, and it had been stupid for him to try. “So what happens now?”
Robert shrugged. “I was hoping to have some more time to myself. But now….”
Zeke placed his hand on Robert’s shoulder. “You’re living the dream. You have everything you could possibly want—fame… money… the ability to do what you want.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Sure, I’m famous, which equates to half a million people all trying to get me to do what they want me to do. I have money, but….” Robert shrugged. “I haven’t dated in years… other than you… because me going out with a guy would hurt my career, so I’ve been alone most of the time. I actually met you and decided to be with you because no one recognized who I was. For a little while, I was free, and we seemed to have a good time.” Robert sighed. “And you liked me for me.” He stood and walked toward the barn door. “I guess that’s over. You don’t need me hanging around, causing trouble for all of you.”
“Because of a few reporters and shit?” Zeke asked. “I deal with them too sometimes.”
Robert paused with his hand on the door. “You don’t understand. Word will get out and the number will grow. This was just the local folks. Wait until the tabloids and the national news get hold of it. They’ll be camped out and blow everything out of proportion.” He slid the door open.
Zeke strode over to where Robert stood and slammed the door closed. “Is this because you’re ashamed of being gay? Of being with me?” Zeke demanded. “You don’t want them to find out your secret?”
Robert huffed, his posture straightening, lips flattening to a line. “I’m not ashamed of you. I… shit… I’m not out of the closet because I never had a reason to be open.” He clenched his fists and shook his hands. “It’s complicated, and to answer your question, no… this has nothing to do with you. I am not ashamed of you, and I’d march the fuck out there and tell them that you’re my boyfriend. Hell, I’d even give them a demonstration, but that will only feed the flames. I know these bloodsuckers, and they smell a story, even though there isn’t one.” Robert turned away, swearing a blue streak under his breath. “Except maybe there is a story. One I created.”
