Several hours later, when Blake stripped and traipsed across the carpeting to the shower, Riley peered down at a scrap of paper with an area code and phone number scrawled on it. He picked it up and read the words "Katy's cell." Suddenly, an idea entered his mind.
Chapter Seven
Early that evening, they lay down and watched satellite television. Riley heard Blake’s even breathing. Out the corner of his eye, Riley watched the silhouette of his chest rise and fall. His mind wandered off the plot of the movie and onto his continual concern about Blake’s sister's wrath toward his orientation. He frowned.
Fidgety, he sat up, turned and rose to standing. He supposed he should do something. After plucking his clothing off the chest of drawers and chair, he dressed and unplugged his cell phone. I need to talk to Blake's sister in private. Not wanting to awaken him, Riley quietly stepped outside in the icy night air with the phone, closed the door and walked down the road.
Twenty or so feet away from the trailer, he stopped and pressed the call button. The scent of pine laced the air and electronic phone beeps sounded in his ear. He glanced at the darkened forest and cabin where Marty stayed during the summer season. The face of the phone brightened and he dialed the number that he'd memorized. A couple of shaky moments passed as he waited. Unable to get an answer, he went back inside, frustrated. Four tries and three days later, the day they drove to Riley's sister's house in Othello. Along the way, they stopped at a Shell gas station, where Riley called Blake’s sister’s home. This time, Katy's voice, the voice he remembered screeching at Blake, answered.
Christ. She answered. Now what do I say? Frozen in place with dread, he hesitated. I hope to hell this won't be a fuckin' mistake.
"Hello?" she asked again.
"Katy?"
"Yes?"
He took a deep breath and began. "It's Riley. Blake's friend." He raised an outspread hand. "Don't hang up. Please..."
"Okay."
Riley touched his forefinger to his temple and grimaced. "Don't hate him." A lengthy silence fell on the line that tore him up. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes," she said after unleashing a squeaky sob.
"I don't know if you know it, but he loves you." He listened to her weep.
"I do know."
He let the bit of charged knowledge sink into her head a little longer. "In fact, he cares about you almost more than anyone else in his family."
In a high-pitched voice she said, "I know. I care about him too."
"He is how he is. He...he wants you to accept him."
"I need...time."
"Do you have a pen?"
"Yes. Why?" She sniffed.
"Take this number down. We'll be at my sister's house for Christmas. Call him. He's really down. You two need to talk. He can't help who he is. And you mean so much to him."
"I know. It's just...I really don't know..."
"Take it down anyway and think about it. The number is 206-555-2938." His heartbeat raced at the possibility of her calling Blake. He contained his excitement because he knew it could be premature.
"Okay."
"Katy, I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him. His happiness means a lot to me."
"I feel that way too."
They said goodbye, and Riley left the stinky men’s restroom and rejoined Blake by the gas pump.
Blake muttered something about the gas prices and hung the nozzle back on its stand. "Somebody's making a hell of a lot of money off us."
Feeling smug, he said, "They sure are." He doesn't suspect a thing.
* * * *
With his truck and trailer locked and parked at the end of the road in the campgrounds, Blake took one long, last look and climbed into the cab of Riley’s truck. They drove toward the highway. Country music seeped out of the speakers, playing a song about love gone wrong, but he barely noticed.
Nervous and feeling down, he stilled his shaking hands in his lap twenty miles north of Kalama on the interstate. He plastered his concentration on passing, blurred pines as Riley drove north and then east toward his sister's home. His thoughts revisited the hostile reception his own sister had given him when she saw them together.
A couple of hours later, once they passed the city limits of Othello, Blake let his mind wander as he gazed out at city streets lined with brick and white-sided one and two-story houses. His childhood came back to him. The times he'd had were happy. If only Katy would be as accepting as Riley's sister. But no such luck. She had to throw a fit, probably even aggravating Riley who never gets upset. Blake pulled a cigarette from a pack on the console, lit it and opened the window a quarter of an inch so the smoke would escape.
Riley drew him out of his reverie when he reached over, shut off the radio and patted the back of Blake's free hand. "They live outside town. I thought I'd drive through and give you a tour." Riley's line of vision returned to the road ahead.
Blake turned his attention at a church and a red brick elementary school. "Is this the town you grew up in?"
"Yeah. It sure has changed."
More of his own childhood popped into his head, haunting him. He considered his lack of sexual feelings for girls and frowned. His father and mother knew him well. They loved him too, he supposed. They just weren’t people of many words, and he never discussed his ideas with them, especially about sexual likes and dislikes. His brother knew him inside and out, but didn’t care an iota about him. His problem, Blake guessed, was sibling rivalry and a bad case of homophobia. Guilt hung like an anvil over him. Strangely enough, everyone, except his sister, knew about his preference. His family, who was gone now, had not told her.
Riley's voice interrupted his thoughts. "It's just around the bend."
Blake nodded. "They live pretty damned far out."
"I'll say. They like to ride horses."
"Really?"
"Yeah. We'll have to take a leisurely ride."
* * * *
Like a painting, a pinkish-orange watercolor mixture washed the Othello horizon above the jagged tree line. Blake gathered from Riley's expression that they neared their destination. Riley stepped on the brake and the truck slowed. He flashed a perfect, white smile across the divide to Blake and turned the volume down on the radio. "It looks like they've decorated."
"We're here?"
"Yeah."
Blake turned his attention toward the log home and marveled at the red and green eaves and blinking gold Christmas tree standing in the window.
"This is it. Jeff and Marla’s ranch. "
Yellow light on two lower level windows spilled out onto the shadowed, murky lawn. Riley tapped the signal indicator knob and turned into the driveway. To the right, Blake noted a horse barn and corral. A dark, forest occupied the land to the left.
Riley parked and shut off the engine. "Don't be nervous."
"I’ll try."
"They're okay with us. Really."
He tried to shake his apprehension and sound positive. "Great. Let's go."
Chapter Nine
A man who wore jeans and a pretty, dark-haired woman who wore a short-waisted brown leather coat and jeans greeted them when they stepped out of the truck and onto the driveway. Fine snow coated their coats and hats, and a vaporous mist rose from Riley's mouth as he touched the woman's shoulder and faced Blake. "Blake, this is my sis, Marla. And this is Jeff, my brother-in-law."
"Blake, it's good to meet you."
He took her gloved hand in his and smiled. " I've heard a lot about you."
Jeff held out his hand and Blake took it. "It's good to meet you too. Merry Christmas."
Marla entwined her arm in the crook of Blake's elbow and they strolled inside, where upon Riley’s introduction to his two rambunctious nephews, one of them said, "We wanna horsie ride, Unca Wylie."
Riley held the back of his hand to his mouth and whispered, "My aching back. That one's Matt."
Blake smiled and then laughed out loud.
"Me too, Uncle Riley," shouted the second boy.
"And that one is Mark."
"Boys, this is Riley's friend," said Marla. "His name's Blake."
"Hi, Bwake!" Matt hopped in place. "Do you give horsie rides too?"
Much to Blake's surprise, after having a gab session at the kitchen table until a little after midnight over beer, Riley's sister showed them up to their room that held a king-sized bed. The boys were fast asleep down the hallway when they bid the host and hostess goodnight, went to their room and fell asleep.
Christmas Eve came several days later. At sundown, a few members of Riley's family came to visit. They dressed in holiday attire and brought presents, bottles of champagne and other goodies. Seven or eight squealing children exchanged gifts and played in the recreation room. A couple of dozen adults sang carols, ate finger food and sipped beer, champagne, or wine. Two young, gay men attended too. Marla introduced one of them as her younger brother and the other as her brother's friend. To Blake, they seemed more than just friends. They held hands and kissed. It didn't take Blake and Riley long to loosen up and feel accepted by everyone
When folks began gathering their children, gifts and plates. Blake heard the phone ring in the next room. Marla appeared in the doorway holding up the handset. "Riley?"
He turned away from an aunt and moved his attention to his sister. "Yeah?"
She covered the mouthpiece. "It's for Blake. She says she’s his sister."
Sitting on an overstuffed beige sofa, Blake blinked and swiveled his head toward Marla, away from an elderly woman he'd been talking to about the high prices of gasoline. For a split second he paused and touched Riley's aunt's arm. "Excuse me." He stood, set his beer on a coffee table, and gave Riley, who stood nearby, a grim look. Several sets of eyes glanced his way as he strode toward the door. Surprised, wondering what Katy had to say on Christmas Eve, he took the phone and smiled, though he felt uncomfortable and swore under his breath. His heart beat hard in his chest. In a puzzled, wary tone he said, "Thanks, Marla. I'll take it down the hallway, if it's okay." God, what is she going to say this time?
"Go ahead. Use our bedroom. I'll shut the door. It’ll be a lot quieter," she said, mouthing the words.
“Thanks.” Blake swallowed hard and put the phone to his ear. He looked at a heavy-legged dresser sitting across the room from the queen sized bed and said, "Hello?"
"Blake?" Katy’s nose sounded congested.
He stood still, pressing the phone to his ear. Tears threatened to well. Visualizing her he said, "Yep."
"How are you?" she asked, her voice void of shock and anger, much to his relief.
"Fine, sis. You?"
"Same here."
"How's Frank?" he asked in a hesitant tone.
"He's fine. We plan to get married."
Blake's brow furrowed. Why is she calling?
"I-I just wanted to wish you Merry Christmas."
"Thanks. I wish you one too."
"Hope you’re having a good holiday."
"I am. We're having a get together at Riley's sister and brother-in-law's house."
"That's good."
He took a couple of slow, long strides to the bed and sat down on the soft, brown spread. He tilted his head back and gazed at the ceiling. "Is there something you need or want?"
"Actually I called to...to apologize for my horrible reaction. You must hate me."
"Katy...no...I don't. I love you. Always did. Always will."
She openly wept on the other end of the line. "Thank you, Blake. It was just a shock. My mouth sometimes gets the better of me."
"It's okay."
"Riley...he seems so nice."
"He is. I guess you can say we're permanent friends."
"That's good." Several seconds of silence followed. "Blake, if y'all are lookin' for a place to settle down together...I, well, come to the ranch here."
"You're livin' there and—"
"Blake, I am moving with Frank to Indiana. He's got work there. I need you to take over the ranch, if you can. Otherwise, we have to sell it. It needs new fencin', and the horses needs lots of care."
Blake's mouth dropped open. When he recovered he asked, "Are you sure?"
"Yeah. As soon as you can, so we can leave, if it's convenient with you, too. I just can't take care of it anymore. Frank's not into ranchin.'"
He laughed and raised an outstretched hand. "Uh, sure. Yes. I'll get right back to you...tomorrow. I need to talk to my part…uh, Riley."
"I remember you sayin' you wanted to retire and all. It'd be a good opportunity for you. Maybe you and Riley could start a dude ranch or somethin.'"
"I-can we let you know soon? A couple of days, maybe?"
"Yes, sure. Again, I'm so sorry. I need a boot to my butt. I've always thought you may be gay, but uh, I guess it never sank in. I accept and love you, Blake. Come on home. Bring Riley with you."
Chapter Ten
On New Year's Eve, Blake uttered a sigh of relief once they bid Riley's family goodbye and returned to the campsite in Kalama. Finally, I'll have time alone with him.
Once they passed the Othello city limit sign, Riley said, "I love kids, especially Mark and Matt. But there 're times I like quiet."
Blake laughed and rolled his eyes. "Yep. Same here."
A few hours later, outside Blake's trailer, Riley slipped his hard arms around him in a loving embrace. "At last," he whispered. "Wanna go out and celebrate."
"Yeah."
"Let's do it, then."
Their lips met. His probing tongue slid through the inner recesses of Riley’s mouth. He tasted minty mouthwash. The soft kiss ended and their mouths and bodies parted. Hand in hand, they climbed the steps, unlocked the door, and entered the dark trailer that smelled of fabric softener.
They showered, shaved and dressed in their best Levi's, western shirts and hats, and went out for quiet beers to celebrate the New Year.
Riley and Blake watched a barroom full of blue collar workers, Indians, loggers and trailer trash swizzle noisemakers and don shiny hats. They occupied a small table in the dark corner of a tavern a mile or so from the turn off to the campgrounds. They downed a couple of beers and engaged in quiet conversation about their future and retiring from the rodeo circuit. Life with Riley, even if only a few weeks out of the year, is the best I've ever known. I don't want it to end.
Riley ordered two beers for them. After the waitress returned with icy mugs of the golden, foamy liquid, he said, "I don't want us to go our separate ways."
"I'm going to find another job." He lit a cigarette, contemplating their staying together. "I can't do this rodeoin' shit anymore."
"So, uh, you're not going out?"
He pointed over his shoulder. "My back's bad. How about you?"
Riley leaned over and ran a palm over the seam at Blake's crotch, turning him on. The urge to leave the tavern overwhelmed him. "Same here."
After the countdown commenced at ten seconds 'til midnight, Blake whispered in Riley's ear, "Let's stay together, then."
He put his cigarette on the edge of an ashtray. "Stay?" Riley made eye contact...long and deep.
"Make that live together."
Riley nodded slowly. "Yeah, I want that too. We'll figure it out." He touched a finger to Blake's nose and smiled. "C'mon. Let's go home. I think I'm goin' to bust out of my pants."
He took a sip of beer and gently set the mug down, fiddling with the edge of a coaster. "Remind me tomorrow that I have something important to talk to you about."
"About...what?"
Blake smiled his most beguiling, come-on smile. "It's a secret. I'll tell you tomorrow."
* * * *
Later, they arrived at Blake's travel trailer. Once inside, the scent of fabric softener tickled Blake's nostrils.
Lights dimmed, they shoved their boots off one foot with the other and Riley flipped on the light, closed and locked the door. They drew their shirts off. Blake lovingly observed Riley's silhouette as he stepped up to him, toe to toe. Riley slipped fingers under t
he waistband of Blake's jeans, causing him to suck in a deep breath. The button slid through the stitched hole and knuckles pressed into Blake's abdomen, teasing him with touches. With a slight yank, he pulled Blake's tight jeans, with his underwear, down his legs.
Riley’s fascination remained fixed on Blake's body, and Blake hoped he teased him beyond endurance by scrutinizing him. He found his lips kissable, alluring and enticing.
After administering a firm, deep massage to Blake's cock, Riley stepped back. His thumbs at his own side, he hooked the elastic band and ditched his own clothes, baring his magnificent erection. His nine-inch rod had given Blake much pleasure over the past three Decembers they'd been together, and he wanted it to do the same thing now and for many years to come. If he agrees with my plan, my dream will come true.
Blake smiled as a feeling of pure artistic appreciation flowed over him as he took in his lover’s assets.
When Riley captured his mouth in a rough, long kiss that tasted of beer, excitement thrummed through his system. He reached down and grasped his own phallus, making himself appealing and feeling his own erection. Blake gasped aloud when their cock heads touched and their loins ground together.
Riley slid spread fingers into Blake's mane at the temple and gazed deeply into his eyes, as though he was searching for something. "I love you," Riley said. He turned down the covers and stretched out on the soft bed. "Now bring that cock of yours here." Riley lay back, with his legs sort of splayed out.
"Oh yeah? What'd you have in mind?" Blake asked and leaned down, anticipating much pleasure in the next several minutes.
Riley whispered, "Why don't 'cha come here, get real close and find out."
A herd of wild mustangs couldn’t stop me, Blake thought as he climbed onto the bed and turned toward his lover.
Riley brushed a kiss to his forehead and moved his mouth down, pressing his lips to his chest. He flicked his nipples. Loving every second of it and not realizing that somehow his breasts were connected to his loins, Blake grunted with pleasure and settled beside him. He kissed Riley’s biceps.
Their noses touched. "Happy New Year."
Cowboy's Christmas Page 4
