A dark man with long black hair, a gray cowboy hat, mirrored Ray-Bans and light blue shirt waved to them as Mark pulled the truck to a stop in front of the corral. “I bet that's Adam. He and his brother run the place, now that their father retired."
Evan unbuckled his seat belt and opened the door. Traitor or not, he had to have a horse. Buck would understand.
He and Mark met the man at the fence.
"Mark Hammond and Evan Marshall?” The man asked as he approached. He was tall and lean, with a cowboy's build. When he got closer, Evan realized he was also Native American and very handsome. He appeared to be a little older than Evan and Mark, maybe in his early thirties.
"You must be Adam Two Spirits?” Mark extended his hand. “I'm Mark. This here is Evan."
"I am. Nice to meet you both.” Adam shook Mark's hand then Evan's. “I've seen the two of you rope. Last year up in Albuquerque. You're damned good.” Adam dipped his head at Evan. “Sorry about your horse. Was it the buckskin you rode last season?"
"Yeah, that was him. Thanks."
The black horse Evan had watched while coming up the drive strode up to fence catty-cornered to the corral Adam had climbed out of. He stuck his head over, nudging Evan with his nose. His eyes were the palest blue Evan had ever seen; what Evan had heard referred to as wall-eyed.
"Well, hello beautiful.” Evan held his hand out to the horse, letting it smell him.
The horse sniffed Evan's hand then nuzzled his face against it like a giant cat.
Evan smiled, petting him with one hand and bringing his other around to rub the black nose. He loved the velvety feel of their noses.
Adam sighed. “Just ignore him.” He shoved the horse's shoulder. “You away, pest.” He turned towards another set of buildings and motioned for Evan and Mark to follow. “Let me show you the roping horses I've got that are ready to go.” He pointed to a gray building just inside the fence.
Evan patted the black beauty one last time and followed, almost reluctantly. Oddly, a sense of belonging settled over Evan. He liked this horse. They seemed to have an instant rapport. Which was just Evan being silly. Of course he liked the horse, he'd yet to meet a horse or dog he didn't like. Hell, he hadn't met one that didn't like him. He'd always had a way with animals in general. As a kid, he'd wanted to be a veterinarian.
As he got to the gate where Adam and Mark were entering towards the stables, he glanced back at the horse. It wasn't there. Oh well, he was here to find a horse, how silly would it be to settle on the first one he saw, just because it was the prettiest horse he'd even seen. For all he knew the horse wasn't even for sale, and Evan needed a roping horse, or one that was at least somewhat trained for roping.
"Evan, are you looking for anything in particular, other than being trained for heeling? You're a heeler right?” Adam asked as he opened the white gate and held it open for Evan and Mark.
"Yes, sir, that's right. I don't really care what it looks like as long as it's mostly trained and has a good disposition.” Evan stepped just inside the gate.
The black horse came around the corner of the building they were heading toward. He hurried over to Evan.
Evan grinned and petted the horse. He couldn't help it. He liked the blue-eyed beauty. “What about this one?"
Adam snorted and shoved at the horse's side. “Go away.” He looked back at Evan. “Believe me, I'd love to sell him to you."
"What's his name?"
"Uh ... Genghis Khan.” Adam led them into a large stable with around twenty stalls.
"Genghis Khan?” Mark asked with a chuckle.
Evan followed with Genghis Kahn keeping pace beside him. The horse kept rubbing his face against Evan's arm, trying to get attention. He was a real character with a nice temperament, like a great big puppy dog. Evan wrapped his hand up under Gus's neck and patted him.
"Uh, yeah. He's definitely a tyrant with delusions of world domination.” Adam stopped at a stall, holding a roan quarter horse. “This is Miss Kitty. She's seven years old and—"
When Evan stopped, Genghis Kahn rested his chin on Evan's shoulder. Evan chuckled and scratched his cheek. “Is he rope-trained, Adam?"
Adam groaned and turned toward Evan and the horse. “Yeah, he helps train the—he's normally a header.” He cut his attention to the horse. “What are you doing?"
Genghis Kahn snorted at Adam, put his forehead in the middle of Evan's back and started walking, nudging Evan forward.
Adam threw his hands up. “Okay, fine, you don't think Miss Kitty is right for him."
Evan chuckled, letting the horse nudge him along. They stopped in front of a stall holding a brown and white tobiano paint. It was a fine looking horse and came right up to see him, but Evan had made up his mind. He wanted the pest behind him. It didn't even matter if he wasn't used to heeling, Evan was sure any horse this smart and personable could handle what Evan needed from him. Yeah, okay, logically he was going to have to ride him first, but ... “I want him."
Adam's eyes widened, then he sputtered. “But, no, I can't—"
Gus—that's what Evan was going to call him—started flipping his head up and down, neighing and pawing the stable floor with his right front foot.
"Evan, shouldn't you look around?” Mark asked.
Evan petted Gus and peeked around at Mark.
Mark stood next to a bewildered Adam, with his brow scrunched. He tipped his straw hat back and scratched his head. “I don't think Adam wants to sell this one."
Adam held his hands out a frown on his face. “I'm sorry Evan I can't—"
Gus's tail flicked hitting Adam in the cheek, making him sputter and bat the hair away.
"Fine. You bring a saddle?” Adam asked.
Evan nodded, his spirits soaring. This was right. It felt good. Something told him Gus was going to ride like a dream.
Mark frowned. “Uh, should I go get it and saddle Dotty?"
Adam sighed again. He stepped up next to Evan, grabbed Gus's chin in his hand and stared at him for several seconds.
Gus jerked his head away and nuzzled against Evan.
"Go get your tack,” Adam looked back at Mark, “and your horse and meet me in the arena around the side over there.” He pointed out the end of the stables toward the main house.
Evan patted Gus's neck a few times in affection and trotted off toward the truck with Mark right behind him.
"Evan, shouldn't you look more first?” Mark asked opening the trailer.
"Nah, there is something about him. I don't know what it is. I just have this feeling."
Mark smiled.
"What?"
"I think Adam is gay."
Evan tried his damnedest not to let his mouth fall open, but he wasn't sure he was entirely successful. “What?"
Mark shrugged. “Just a feeling. Maybe you could ask him out or something?"
Evan just stared at his friend.
"Well, okay, maybe not. I was just trying to cheer you up and I figured—Nevermind. Let's go test your new mount out and see if he'll work."
Evan laughed, feeling joy bubble out of him. “You nut. I'm cheered up, I don't need a date. I miss Buck, but Gus is beautiful, don't ya think?"
Mark shook his head and chuckled. “Yeah. I think Buck would totally understand. He was gay, too, ya know.
Evan wasn't even going to ask.
"He never made a pass at my Dotty."
"He was a gelding.” And besides that, Dotty was fixed.
Mark shrugged. “She's still a pretty thing. Aren't you, girl?"
Laughing, they got Dotty out and saddled. Then Evan threw his saddle over his shoulder, grabbed the blanket and bridle and headed back toward the arena.
When he got there, Adam had his hands on his hips, glaring at Gus. “Have you lost your damned mind?"
Gus snorted, stomping his right foot.
"Fine, you better call me the first chance you g—” he glanced up at Evan and smiled. “The first chance you get after your first event and
let me know how he rode. If you decide he won't work out, you can bring him back and I'll fix you up with another."
* * * *
Three months later...
"...get sperm from Gus."
Evan jerked the cell phone away from his ear and stared at it, hoping he'd misheard his friend.
People milled in and out of the stables, caring for their horses. Neighs and snorts bounced off the walls. One of the mares a few stalls down carried on, destroying her empty water bucket by banging it into the wall. The place was pretty loud, but for the life of him, Evan couldn't come up with any other sentence that both made sense and sounded like what he thought he'd heard. He leaned back against the stall door, returned the phone to his ear and waved to one of the barrel racers as she walked by with her horse in tow.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a dark blur, then Gus stuck his head over the stall door. Nuzzling in, Gus rested his face next to Evan's ear and knocked Evan's felt hat crooked. Even still, Gus was close enough Evan could feel the downy soft peach fuzz covering the black nose against the back of his hand. Evan leaned into the familiar heat, trying to collect his thoughts. “What did you say?” He idly petted the stallion's nose.
"I need you to collect semen from Gus.” Mark let out a long suffering sigh, like he couldn't believe he was having to repeat himself. “Alfred Cooper offered me twelve hundred to breed Gus to his mare, Rosy. That will make the eight grand you paid for him back."
"Mark, I am not jerking off my horse."
Bo Graf, one of the bulldoggers, stumbled on his way down the aisle. His mouth hung wide open as he looked back at Evan. Glaring, he shook his head and continued on his way, looking over his shoulder at Evan the whole way.
Great, they already treated Evan like an outcast because he was gay, now there were going to be rumors of bestiality, too. Evan pointed to the phone and shrugged. “I've already made the money I paid for Gus back in prize money."
"There is this thing on Ebay. I'm going to order it. All's you have to do is hold it and get him to—"
"Mark. No. You can't just do this stuff out of the blue. You need specialists and people who know what they are doing. It's all very clinical.” Evan ran his hand down his face, trying not to laugh. He should have gone back to the motel room with Mark. Every time Mark got online, he came up with these harebrained ideas. Last month he tried to buy a rope with a metallic gold cord woven throughout it. Evan was going to have to hide Mark's laptop again.
Gus nibbled at the phone, catching Evan's fingers between his lips.
"Cut it out.” Evan batted at the stallion with his free hand.
"Evan, this could be a profitable venture. Gus is unique. There aren't a lot of wall-eyed, black quarter horses with four white socks and a white star on the fore—"
Chris, a fellow team roper and friend, stepped in front of him, rope in hand. “Mark left this sitting in the back of my truck."
Evan nodded and held out his hand. He needed to get a handle on this or his header would be taking out ads for stud service. “When Gus and I are done with the rodeo circuit we'll talk about breeding him. Right now he's the best roping horse on the circuit and I'm not about to—"
Chris scoffed. “You mean the orneriest."
Gus snorted at Chris, blowing snot all over Evan in the process.
"Ah, damn.” Evan held the phone away from his ear and took off his hat. He waved it around, trying to get the horse boogers off. “Hold on Mark, I—"
Gus snatched the phone and danced backward in the stall throwing his head up and down.
Doubling over with laughter, Chris nearly dropped the rope.
"Shit.” Evan wiped the mucus off his cheek, plopped his cowboy hat back on his head and held his hand out through the open space above the stall door. “Give me the phone."
Turning his head away, Gus gave Evan a perfect view of his long, sleek, black, muscled neck as if to say, “I can't hear you".
Oh, please don't make me beg in front of Chris. “Don't ignore me. I said give me the phone.” Evan snapped his fingers, leaving his hand out. “Don't make me come in there."
Gus side-stepped and hovered his mouth over the water bucket—the water bucket Evan had just filled—hanging from the side wall of the stall. Gus twitched his ears, making one go forward and the other back as he stared at Evan.
"Whoa.” Evan held up his hands in surrender. This would be the second phone in three months that Gus had killed. If Evan didn't know better, he'd swear Gus was jealous of Evan talking on the phone. The last time Evan had been trying to get directions to a date's motel. Gus had snatched the phone, flipped it up into the air, let it fall, then stepped on it. “Come on, boy ... please don't."
Evan leaned over the stall door, slow and easy. He wasn't afraid of startling Gus, Gus did not startle. But Evan knew damned well his horse would take any fast movement to mean “play time,” And if Gus thought Evan was playing, he'd drop the phone in the water for sure. “Please give me the phone ... Pretty please, with sugar on top?"
"I swear to god that horse has you by the balls. Never in my life seen a grown man plead with his horse.” Chris barked out between guffaws.
"Shut up, Chris.” Evan grabbed the bars on each side of the stall door and hefted himself up. He threw one leg over the top and held his hand out to Gus. “Come on, Darlin', give me the phone. That's a pretty boy, give me the—” The toe of Evan's boot got caught on the top plank of wood. There was no time for him to get it loose, he pitched forward, off balance. Closing his eyes, he held his hands out to break his fall.
Chris scrambled forward and grabbed him by the belt.
Hooves clicked, a puff of air passed Evan's cheek and his face landed hard against warm hair.
"Fuck me.” Chris whispered.
Evan opened his eyes and saw nothing but black. He was suspended in the air, with his nose mashed into Gus's back. “Ow."
Chris hauled him upright by the belt. That's when Evan realized his other leg was caught between Gus and the stall door. He pushed at Gus, making him move over just a tad.
"He saw you falling and tried to break your fall. Shit, that horse is too damned smart."
Evan smiled, patted Gus's rump and hugged the horse's back, not surprised one bit that Gus had kept him from face-planting. Gus was smart. And loyal to a T. He'd saved Evan's stupid ass from falling a couple of times in the last three months. “Thanks, honey. Now give me the phone.” Evan crawled the rest of the way onto the stallion's back, straddling him. He scooted up until he was practically on Gus's neck, laid down flat and stretched his hand out as far as he could.
Gus flipped his head and let go of the phone.
Evan heard the plop sound that water makes when something is dropped into it and felt a drop on the back of his hand, then Chris burst into laughter again.
"Damnit, Gus.” Evan groaned and dropped his arm, lying limply on his horse's back. “We're really going to have to have a talk about your hatred of cell phones."
* * * *
Damn, that guy was hot.
Ever since Evan had seen him two months ago in Dallas, he'd been seriously rethinking his stand on approaching men in honky tonks. The man was tall, broad-shouldered with a nice ass in a pair of painted-on Wranglers. Too bad the gray cowboy hat was always pulled down so low over his eyes. Evan was betting those eyes were coal black to match that swarthy skin. And boy did that tanned skin looked nice against that green shirt. Then again it had also looked great in the red shirt he'd worn in Denver, the last time Evan had seen him.
Evan took a swig of beer, tearing his gaze away from the bar and looking out at the dance floor. The last thing he needed was to get caught checking out the hot cowboy four barstools down. I wonder if he's dark all over.
He glanced over again and noticed the cowboy looking back at him. Evan dipped his chin.
The man returned the gesture and took a drink of his beer before looking away.
Evan told his libido to chill the hell out. Then
again, maybe I should go over and ... And what? He knew better, especially, in this part of the country. Tulsa was way more conservative than, say, Dallas or Denver. Gay bars ... okay, picking up men in honky tonks was a no-no. His gaydar wasn't good enough for that. Hell, Mark was better picking out gay men than Evan was, and Mark wasn't even gay.
Hmmm ... Maybe he should have Mark take a gander at that guy? He was either a rodeo cowboy or a rodeo follower, because he'd been at the same bars Evan and his buddies had gone to in the last couple of months. All of those bars had been regular, good-ole-country-and-western bars, which in all likelihood meant the man was straight. Weren't they all? At least till you got a few drinks in them.
Mark slid up next to the bar, a longneck in hand. “Rumor has it...” He looked around and leaned in close enough Evan could smell his woodsy aftershave. “There is a gay bar six streets over, near that Love's store we filled up at when we came into town."
"And how did you find this out?"
Mark chuckled, his eyes dancing with laughter.
Ooh, this must be good. Evan pushed his friend's shoulder. “Well?"
"Jeff Benson, Brett Lahr and Dodger Craig wandered in by accident last night.” He shook his head and took a drink of his beer. “Damn, I'd love to have been there and seen their faces when they figured it out. Bunch of homophobic assholes."
Oh, now that had to have been a sight. “Bet they hauled ass out of there.” Evan grinned.
"Oh yeah. Tracy Wade was with them. He said they didn't let any grass grow under their feet after Lahr noticed all the guys were dancing with each other."
Evan winced. He suspected Tracy was gay himself. Good lord if his buddies found out ... Hell, Evan could be wrong, but it was hard not to notice Tracy scoping out other men and trying to pretend he wasn't. It was surprising his friends hadn't caught him at it. Unlike the other bull riders Tracy hung with, he seemed like a nice guy. He'd never actually spoken to Evan, but he always waved when he walked by. According to Doreen, Mark's on-again off-again girlfriend, and her friends, he was shy and didn't talk much.
The Ties That Bind Page 17
