When the Dust Settles

by Mary Calmes

  “Glenn?”

  Even though I could feel the ball of fear in my chest, I answered, “I dunno.”

  “You wanna guess?”

  I could, and I really hoped it didn’t get me beat up. Mac had easily fifty pounds of muscle on me, all of him looking like roped steel. If he wanted to hurt me, I’d be in real trouble. But I couldn’t help myself. I had to know. So I cleared my throat and threw caution to the wind. “I thought you were straight,” I mumbled.

  “Nope,” he said flatly.

  My mouth went dry, and just for a second, I thought time had stopped and I would live forever in this moment of complete and utter disbelief where everything I thought I knew turned upside down and inside out.

  “Pardon?”

  “I suspect you heard me just fine.”

  The hell did he say?

  His chuckle was a little bit evil. “You should see your face.”

  I couldn’t for the life of me remember how I was supposed to tell if I was dreaming or not. It would have been good to check since I was really unsure if I was awake.

  Mac Gentry was gay? How the hell had I missed that all these years?

  The shudder went through me fast, and then I got my bearings and met his gaze, holding it, not looking away. “How come you never mentioned that before?”

  “Because you never asked.”

  I coughed softly to give myself a moment.

  “Rand finally got a call to go through and called got a hold of Everett and he agreed to drive up here and pick up you and your horse with the stupid-ass name.”

  It took a second. “What?”

  Immediately he was scowling at me. “You heard.”

  “Why am I being sent home?”

  “’Cause you can’t ride when you’re all tore up. Don’t be an idiot.”

  Of course. As usual, I was the idiot. Sitting up, brushing his hands away when he tried to stop me, hold me down, I asked when Everett was coming.

  “He’ll be here around midday, I reckon.”

  “And you all just decided this.”

  He pointed at my side. “No, Glenn,” he said crossly. “The gash in your side decided this.”

  I shook my head.

  “You didn’t even want to be here,” he reminded me. “You hate the ranch and driving cattle and everything else. Now you don’t have to have nothin’ to do with any of it.”

  But that wasn’t the deal I made. “I made a promise to Stef.”

  “Rand said that you don’t make no promises to family. You shouldn’t have to.”

  “Stef’s not my family.”

  “The hell he ain’t,” Mac griped. “He’s married to your brother, you damn fool.”

  It took everything in me not to yell. Idiot. Fool. All the different names he applied to me that basically all meant the same thing.

  Mac thought I was stupid, plain and simple. It could not be made any clearer.

  “Why are you here?” I hoped my tone was as cold as I felt.

  His glare was icy, any tenderness he’d felt for me evaporated like it was never there. “I have no idea.”

  It felt different in the tent when he stormed out a moment later—like all the heat went with him—but I didn’t care. It had just been demonstrated to me again, for the billionth time, that I had no place in the world of the Red Diamond.

  What did it matter if Mac was gay? He certainly wasn’t for me. He found me lacking, just like my family did, just like all the hands did, just like anyone attached to the ranch did. I was useless, plain and simple. All the things Rand had said while I dozed, and Zach too, they only did so because they thought they had to, or because they felt sorry for me. There was no real affection, no kinship, no love or respect or genuine feeling. And even though they’d thought I was asleep, and I could have assumed they were speaking from the heart, clearly they hadn’t been. Because my real worth came down to what kind of cowboy I was, and since I didn’t want to be one, I was of no use to any of them.

  I couldn’t wait for Everett to come get me, because I was never showing up at the ranch again after this. I was so very done.

  Chapter 4

  I COULDN’T sleep.

  Thinking about Mac and Rand and Zach and then Stef’s hope that there would be bonding and my own bullshit getting in the way—as well as all of theirs—it came to me that something had to give.

  The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. So in the early hours of the morning—the illuminated display on my G-Shock Mudmaster told me it was just after two—I finally gave up wrestling with my conscience and got up from the bedroll I was sleeping on. I gave Juju an absent pat that made her grunt like she was irritated—probably because I woke her up—and walked back toward the circle of lanterns. Other people might have worried about snakes, spiders, scorpions, or other critters bothering them, but with my horse standing vigil over me—even though she’d been sleeping—I didn’t. Her hearing was better than mine and I’d seen her crush a lot of creatures under her hooves over the years. She was bloodthirsty even though she was a vegetarian. Herbivore. Whatever.

  I pretended to sleep through dinner so no one felt the need to speak to me or check on me, but now that I knew it was only hours before I’d be leaving, and God only knew when I’d be back out to the Red… if ever… I felt the urge to make amends.

  My brain had not turned off overnight. Over and over, again and again, I had thought about what Rand and Zach had said. The reality was that like it or not, we were family, and the bond of blood was a real one. It would keep us in each other’s lives forever. I needed to get that through my thick skull. I also needed to pull my head out of my ass and realize that just because the ranch wasn’t my life, that didn’t make it bad. I didn’t need to vilify them to make what I did better. The fact of the matter was that the people in my restaurant were just like the ones on the Red Diamond, each set depending on either me or Rand. We weren’t as different as I made it out to be.

  It had been Mac telling me who he was that made me recognize the truth. For better or worse, Mac spanned the gap between Rand and me. I could have fit Maclain Gentry into my world, but he already had a place at the Red Diamond. We could all coexist if I would stop being so defensive and angry and just breathe. Not that Mac and I would ever be anything more than passing acquaintances, but still, there could be a ceasefire. It all started with me, I was the one carrying the banner into battle, I had to be the one to call the truce. It was what Stef had wanted the whole time, for bridges to be built and crossed. Communication had to start somewhere.

  Walking around the camp, I checked the tents and finally found the one Rand and Zach were in.

  Slipping inside, I moved over to Rand’s bunk and knelt down beside his head. Beau was sleeping under the cot, but he didn’t stir even when I had my knee down next to his nose. I shook Rand gently and his eyes fluttered open.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling down at him.

  He squinted a second and then jerked under my hand. “What’s the matter? Are you all right? Is your side hurtin’ you or—”

  “I’m fine, don’t worry,” I soothed. “I just wanted to say I was sorry for being a dick earlier, and I’m sorry I got hurt.”

  He stared at me for a moment. “Am I awake?”

  I snorted out a soft laugh. “Just—accept the damn apology, will you?”

  “Yeah, all right,” he agreed, smiling sleepily up at me. “I wanted you on the drive, Glenn. You make it easy for me.”

  “No, I don’t. The opposite is true and we both know it.”

  He shook his head. “No, sir. I didn’t worry one time today until I knew you were hurt.”

  It was a nice thing to say. “This just ain’t me no more.”

  “I know it,” he said, studying my face. “But that don’t mean you got no home on the Red. Working it and living on it are two different things. You go on and ask Stef if that ain’t the God’s truth.”

  I nodded.

  He reached up and patted me gently on
the cheek. “Just visit, for crissakes, will you, please? It ain’t like seeing you pains me or nothin’.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” I promised as I got up. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

  “I know you won’t see a doctor, but will you lie and say you will?”

  I grinned down at him. “You bet.”

  He shook his head and I headed for the tent flap.

  “It wouldn’t kill you to come out and see me.”

  “We’re all busy, Zachariah,” I said, turning toward the sound of his voice, unable to see him. “But since you get Sundays off, maybe you can find it in your schedule to go fishin’ with me or watch a game or such. I’ll even drive out and fetch you.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’d like that. Call me, would you?”

  I would definitely make an effort because it was time to bury the hatchet. It was my ax to grind, after all. They all responded to me, to my anger, my hurt; they weren’t carrying it around for anyone else.

  Outside, I took a deep breath and felt better than I had all day, even with the twinge of pain in my side. Since I needed to talk to Mac as well, I went looking for his tent, and when I came around the corner of the encampment, nearly collided with the pretty face from earlier in the day.

  “Shit,” he gasped, flustered, as he grabbed at me to steady himself. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you there.”

  “Course not. No way you could have,” I said gently, lowering my tone in hopes he’d follow my example. It was very early in the morning and his voice was loud.

  “I was just—I—” He stopped and his eyes searched my face as he let go of me. “May I ask what you’re doing out here so late?”

  I nodded. “I was looking for Mac’s tent.”

  He inhaled sharply. “I just came from there.”

  “Oh” was all I could think of to say before I turned to go.

  But he slipped around in front of me, barring my quick retreat and stepping in close—too close—pressing up against my chest, staring up into my eyes, the scrutiny intense. “Are you the reason I wasn’t allowed to stay?”

  “What?” Seriously, the man could have knocked me over with a feather, because what the hell did he think was going on between me and the foreman of the Red Diamond?

  “I mean, a man like Mac Gentry,” the pretty man began, “you know he’s not for keeping, right?”

  I was stunned, a deer caught in the headlights, paralyzed, completely out of my depth because what he was assuming, what he was saying, had nothing to do with me except for down deep in the secret place where the truth lived.

  “Mac is just for fun,” he continued. “He’s the guy you fuck around with and throw back, but still… I figured I’d at least get one more night out of him.”

  One more night? Was he insane? If he was lucky enough to get Mac into bed, he sure as hell should have kept him there. I most certainly would have, without question.

  Of course, if Mac could have—and by the sound of things had already had—a man as perfect as the one standing in front of me, why in the world would he ever look twice at me? I was not the stunning creature this man was.

  “Right?” he asked, grinding against me, his hands on my hips.

  I had no idea what I was supposed to say, but I was certain of one thing. He was not the sweet thing I’d taken him for. This was a predator, not a bunny.

  “No one ever says no to me,” he purred.

  It made sense. I was betting he’d never heard “no” in his life.

  “So I have to wonder,” he said, narrowing his eyes, looking me up and down. “Who are you?”

  “I’m no one to him.”

  “Are you sure he—”

  “You’re drunk, Robin, go sleep it—oh,” Mac said as he walked out of his tent in sleep shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

  Even though it was summer, it was early in the morning out on the prairie, so still very cold, which was why I had my jacket on. Mac must have been in his sleeping bag. He looked rumpled and sleepy, with his hair standing on end, slitted eyes, and furrowed brow. I’d never seen him look better.

  He was stunning, but really, I shouldn’t have been attracted to him. Beautiful, delicate like Stef, guys who were fragile were what did it for me. I had a type and I’d been looking for men who fit that idea in my head. What was odd was, when I was propositioned, when offers were made to fulfill my desires, to go to bed with some gorgeous, breathtaking man… I turned them down. And while I told myself the whole one-night stand component was a deal breaker, looking at Mac, I had to wonder if there was more to it than that. The foreman of the Red Diamond had mesmerized me from day one, from the first time I saw him riding up toward the house to speak to Rand. He dismounted, and I was introduced and made a horrible first impression as my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  I was rendered mute just watching him walk. His stride made me wish I could write poetry, and those strong capable hands of his should have had songs dedicated to them.

  Mac looked like the kind of guy who would hold me, or whoever, down in bed, so… that was wrong. And it was stupid, because when I looked at Rand and Stef it was clear, just spending a few minutes with them, that there was no way Stef was topping in the sack. But maybe I was wrong and they switched it up. But with a man like Mac….

  My brain raced through everything, all the time, it never stopped, and the worst part was that once I’d come out, told people I was gay—my father, Zach, Rand and Stef—I’d thought the hard part was over. But it turned out just because I was gay didn’t make me any less messed up.

  “Glenn?” Mac said softly. “What’re you doin’ out here?”

  I was surprised at the look on his face, somewhere between discomfort and anger. I was going to say something shitty—something about him chasing hot men out of his tent in the wee small hours—when his gaze met mine… and softened.

  His eyes warmed in the lantern glow, those massive shoulders of his fell, and he exhaled as he crossed his arms over his wide chest.

  He calmed.

  It probably had nothing to do with me, but as I cataloged every bulging, rippling muscle on his cut, toned form, I saw him curl his bottom lip slowly, decadently, until I realized what I was getting was just a trace of a smile.

  He wasn’t pissed at me. The frustration, irritation, or whatever it was—had nothing to do with me. It was, in fact, focused on the other man in our midst. That was good, because I’d gotten a glimpse of gentleness in Mac, and God… how easy would it be to get used to seeing that every day?

  “Maclain?” I breathed out.

  His heated gaze hit mine. “Come here.”

  Without thinking I dropped my hands from the pretty man pressed up against me and would have taken a step toward Mac, but Robin stopped me as he clutched at my shirt.

  “Wait.”

  I could not take my eyes off Mac; I’d never seen him look so warm and inviting with a trace of danger all at the same time. A current of need ran through me and I had to keep myself still and not go to him.

  “I’m so embarrassed,” Robin whispered.

  It took a concerted effort to drag my eyes off of Mac’s delectable form to meet Robin’s gaze.

  “I thought he wanted to play,” he said, leering at me.

  “What’d you do, go in there and try an’ attack him?” I teased even though my throat tightened and my mouth went dry.

  His big blue eyes widened almost comically. “I—no, not exac—”

  Lifting my hand, I stopped him and he relaxed against me. “He can’t, not on a drive. He’s the foreman of the Red Diamond; he’s in charge of all these men and basically everyone’s safety. He can’t do anything that would compromise that.”

  His gaze flicked past me to Mac and then returned to my face. “It’s more than—it’s not just because of the drive. I’ve been out to the Red Diamond before.”

  “Oh,” I managed to get out. I wanted him off me. Now. Clearly Robin was already a notch in Mac’s bedp
ost.

  “Tell him how long ago that was,” Mac ordered, his voice icy.

  “What?” Robin asked, and I took that moment to drop my arms and take a step back.

  I’d walked into a lover’s… what, discussion? I needed to get out of there so they could talk. I was a giant third wheel. “I should leave you two alone so—”

  “No,” Mac demanded, striding forward, taking hold of my bicep so I couldn’t leave. “There’s no reason for you to go,” he clarified, then pinned Robin with his stare. “Tell him.”

  “I—” He was squinting at Mac. “—what? Why?”

  “Because I said so.”

  “Screw you, Mac,” he snapped, and I saw him wobble just a bit, unsteady on his feet. “I don’t owe you a goddamn—”

  “This here is Robin Halsey,” Mac explained, talking over the inebriated Robin as he eased me sideways, closer to him, back toward the flap of his tent. “And he coordinates vacation packages for the resort.”

  “At King’s Crossing?” I asked even as Mac drew me forward, stepping around me so I stood between him and the tent.

  “Yeah,” he said, tipping his head at Robin. “We met when he came out to the ranch with Mitch Powell before anything was even built out there.”

  I looked back and forth between the two. “Well, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said quietly. “I just needed to talk to you right quick.”

  Mac nodded and gestured into his tent. “Come inside, then, and talk to me.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “You’re not interrupting anything,” he assured me before glancing back at Robin. “Ain’t that right?”

  “No,” Robin said with a shake of his head. “That’s not right at all. I told you I wanted to talk to you and—”

  “And I told you,” he growled. “We’re done.”

  “You make no sense.”

  “Go sleep it off, Robin.”

  “Are you kidding?” His voice rose angrily. “How could you possibly want him instead of me? That’s insane.”

  “No, it’s really not,” he conceded, shoving me into the tent.

  When I rounded on him, he was zipping up the flap.