by Mary Calmes
“Because Hud Lawrence told me,” I cracked sarcastically. “How do you think?”
He looked like he was ready to punch me.
“The Red Diamond swept all the rodeo events, and people had a great time tonight, but somehow, in your mind, in your world, Rand’s reputation got damaged. Why, because I was dancing? Was I dancing too gay? Do you think everyone knows?”
“Yessir, I think everyone of ’em knows you’re gay!”
“And who gives a damn?”
“You could get yourself killed.”
“Because they’re all coming after me.”
“They could be.”
“Well, here I am.”
There was only silence.
I made a big show of listening.
“You’re really a wiseass, you know that?”
“Where’s the angry mob? Are they late?”
He closed the distance between us and shoved me back hard.
“Is that all you got?”
“I should beat the shit outta you.”
“Call Gil Landry; I’m sure he’d love to help you.”
His snarl of outrage let me know how really drunk he was. The man was not all that solid on his own feet.
“Jesus,” I laughed, grabbing his arms, steadying him. “You are wound so fuckin’ tight, man, what the hell?”
His head snapped up and his eyes met mine. I was swallowed in inky blue a minute before he swept his heavy-lidded gaze over me, from head to toe. He missed nothing.
I had to think a second and process.
Did I see what I thought I saw or not? Was Rand Holloway’s homophobic cousin actually checking me out?
“Glenn,” I gasped his name, watching the muscles in his jaw cord.
He yanked away from my hands, and we stood there, staring, silent.
“You,” he said, his voice hoarse, gruff. “How come you’re so….”
“What?” I asked when I was sure he wasn’t going to finish his sentence.
He didn’t answer, just took a step forward.
“Glenn?” I had to tilt my head back to hold his gaze.
“Are you gonna come watch me ride the bull?”
“Sure,” I said softly.
“Do me a favor and wear real clothes tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Not jeans like this,” he said, eyes trailing down my body, “and this shirt is bullshit.”
“Okay.”
“It’s barely on,” he said, his hand slowly fisting in the crushed silk.
I stood still, feeling the back of his knuckles against my chest, my skin. “Glenn.”
He turned suddenly and strode away. I had no idea what was going on in his mind, but I became aware of the whimpering behind me seconds later. When I looked toward the corral, I saw her there, head between the slats, looking at me, big brown eyes wet with happiness because she was looking at me. She was so well-trained, as was my mare Ruby. The horse was standing in the corral chilling, and the dog had been keeping vigil, neither one of them a bother in any way.
But now the dog wanted to be allowed to see me up close.
“Come here,” I called Bella.
She was through the slats and bounding up to me, wiggling, whining, and dancing around my legs, in ecstasy now that I had returned. I bent to pet her, and she shoved her nose in my eye before she licked my nose and bumped my chin. And then she was suddenly rigid, hair standing up, stepping in front of me, pressed to my side.
“Stefan Joss!”
I rose as Rayland Holloway closed in on me, breathing fire, chewing brimstone. He looked more pissed off than usual.
“Is it true?”
I wanted to be mad at him, but frankly he looked too much like Rand, too much like Glenn, whom I was really warming to, and a lot like his brother, Rand and Charlotte’s late father James, for me to dredge up any hate for him. And Tyler. He looked like Uncle Tyler too.
“Is what true, sir?” I called out to him as he charged toward me.
“Did you just—what the hell is wrong with your dog?”
Bella had put her head down, bared her teeth, and made a noise I had no idea she could make. It was obvious from the snarl of warning that she was ready to unleash teeth and claws.
“Just stop walking like that,” I told him. “That’s seventy, almost seventy-five pounds of angry, threatened dog there.”
He stopped moving, and I saw something flicker across his face. Interest?
“She’s a Rhodesian Ridgeback.”
“A what?” he snapped at me.
I repeated the name. “You wanna see her?”
“No, I don’t wanna see—”
“She’s actually very sweet, but you’re freaking her out with how you’re moving.”
“I ain’t moving in no—”
“And I bet your dogs would protect you if I came at you the same way you just came at me.”
He glared at me.
I pointed to the picnic table close by. He stalked over to it and sat down. After a minute, I followed him and took a seat at the other end of the bench.
We sat there in silence for several minutes, and Bella, having trailed after me, was there like my shadow, her head resting in my lap. As I sat there, my mind drifting, it occurred to me that all the time Glenn and I had been talking, Bella had watched, and not once did she growl or bark to alert me of her presence. As fiercely protective as she was, what was it about Glenn Holloway that didn’t make her think he was going to hurt me?
“Dog’s too big to work cattle.”
The gruff comment brought me from my thoughts.
“No,” I told him. “Even German Shepherds were originally bred to be herding dogs. You’re just not used to seeing it.”
We lapsed into another silence.
He finally lifted his hand, and I told Bella to go. She went to him and instead of sitting there and waiting, she put her head in his lap just as she had me.
His grunt before he petted her, scratched behind her ears, and rubbed under her chin made me understand that the wall was not as hard or as high as I thought.
“This can’t just be about me,” I started what I hoped would be a long conversation. “I just got here, only even been around for two years. There has to be more.”
“I don’t abide sodomites.”
A word I had not heard directed at me, probably ever. Other words, lots of them, had been leveled at me at one time or another, but that one was new. “Yeah, but all this animosity because of that? I don’t buy it.”
“Yeah, well, believe what you want.”
“So when Rand was married to Jenny, you all got along like peas and carrots?”
He turned and scowled at me.
The Forrest Gump reference was lost on him. “Well?”
He went back to looking out across the open range. Where our trailers were, and the stable and corral we had been assigned, was at the very edge of the grounds. Beyond us was just brush and grass and dirt and endless sky.
“So you weren’t all singing ‘Kumbayah’ together, were you, sir?”
“I have no idea what you just said.”
“Why the bad blood between you and Rand? I heard you wanted the ranch, and he said no.”
Nothing, not even a nibble, but he had come to see me for some reason.
“Did you, too, come to yell at me about being master of ceremonies tonight?”
“Why? Who else yelled at you?”
“Glenn.”
He grunted his approval. “Did he give you the eye?”
“No, Gil Landry did. And it’s not that bad.”
“Landry? Why?”
“He wants his sister to marry Rand.”
“Or Glenn,” he growled. “He just wants a Holloway, any one will do.”
“I think Carly wants Rand.”
“And maybe when he throws you out on your ass, she can have him.”
“Maybe,” I sighed.
He turned his brilliant eyes on me. “Don’t flaunt y
ourself in front of people no more.”
“Flaunt myself?”
“You showin’ folks you’re queer is gonna get you in trouble.”
“When did I do that?”
“What?”
“Show people I was queer?”
“Just—wear somethin’ else.”
It was my choice in clothes again.
“You’re dressed like a rock star.”
Like the man had any idea how rock stars dressed. “I thought I looked gay.”
He growled at me. “I don’t want no one to hurt you is all.”
“You don’t give a crap if I get hurt.”
“If you get hurt, then Rand—” He rubbed his forehead, having stopped himself. “There’s enough. There don’t need to be no more.”
“So you want me to be careful because if I get hurt, Rand will blame you?”
“I’m here, ain’t I?” he snapped at me. “If somethin’ were to happen to you and he knows that I—just stay out of sight, all right?”
Be safe. “Why do you care? I thought you hated Rand.”
“He—”
“You wanted to buy the ranch, and he told you to go to hell.”
“He was too young to take on that goddamn ranch alone!” he yelled at me, which, for whatever reason, did not startle my dog. Perhaps it was because she had heard his voice crack just like I did. He sounded like he was in pain.
“You wanted to help?” I said thoughtfully.
He moved like he was going to turn toward me, but stopped at the last moment, forcing himself to remain still. “He was only a boy.”
“He was in his mid-twenties,” I corrected him.
“It was a lot of responsibility to shoulder all alone.”
The man had wanted to help. I saw it clearly. “What did you want?”
“I wanted to put the two ranches, the Red Diamond and the White Ash, together. I never wanted to buy the ranch and put him off it.”
“The Red Diamond was, is, his father’s legacy. How could he not keep it forever?”
He cleared his throat. “Rand….”
I waited, but he just shook his head.
“Sir?”
His head turned to me, and I saw the same electric turquoise-blue eyes that the man I loved had. They were similar to Charlotte’s. I used to think hers and Rand’s were the same, but hers were darker, like Glenn’s, like their father’s had been. Only Rand and Rayland had the same bright, distinctive, blue.
Electric blue.
Turquoise.
A blue you never forgot. A blue you noticed.
And only Rayland and Rand had them.
In the whole family.
But…. I squinted at him, and he looked away.
He cleared his throat. “I saw Rand at the Paulson auction in Sweetwater four months back. Did he tell you that?”
“No.”
“He looked good.” He said and I realized he wasn’t really listening to me, lost in thought, thinking about Rand, a wistful look on his face. It was obvious that Rand was important to him but that made no sense.
I was so confused. Did he hate Rand or not? And I knew Rand looked good. Why tell me that he…. “I take good care of him,” I told the older man, wanting him to know.
“Yeah, I done seen a change in him.”
It was like being out in the middle of nowhere without a map. You had no idea which way to go. He had seen a change in Rand? He saw that the man was being taken care of. He accepted that fact, remarked on it, but still….
“Do you have a plan not to get killed?”
I was really so very lost. “I’m sorry?”
He turned to look at me. “For tomorrow, what’s your plan?”
If he could start speaking English, it would be a bonus. “Could you tell me what you’re talking about, please?”
“Well, I know you ain’t fool enough to ride a bull ’cause it might just kill you when you’re thrown off, so I was wondering which you were doin’, the saddle bronc or bareback.”
I had a very funny retort lined up for barebacking, but the question seeped into me and killed every trace of humor. “You’re asking me seriously what rodeo event I’m participating in?”
“Yep.”
“Why would I do anything but watch?”
“Well because every rancher here has got to do an event. Glenn is riding the bull for the White Ash. Rand usually does the bull riding for the Red, but you can’t do that. You’ll get yourself killed. What event are you doin’?”
I had the urge to laugh, but I squelched it. Wait until I told Everett that I was planning to break my neck. “And if the rancher doesn’t participate in the event?”
“Then the grazing rights transfer custody, of course.”
Of course, of course, how stupid of me.
“I thought you would do one of the events today, something easier, but you’re fixin’ to get thrown in the arena. I will admit to looking forward to it.”
Shit.
“You get killed in the ring, that ain’t my fault.”
“Sir.” I cleared my throat, ready to change the subject. I wanted to talk to him, and continuing on about the next day’s events would make me crazy. One catastrophe at a time was all I could handle, and I had things I wanted answers to. Like why in the hell did Rand Holloway and this man have the same exact color eyes? Talking to Everett about which event I might be able to walk away from with my spine still in one piece would have to wait. “Would you tell me about your ranch?”
“What the hell for?” he growled at me.
“I’d just like to hear.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
He was silent.
“What’s it like?”
“Whaddya mean?”
“How big is the main house?”
“It has twelve rooms.”
“Oh, shit.”
“My father, Henry Holloway, built the White Ash thinking all his sons would live on it and work it together, but Tyler and James and Cyrus all left.”
“So the White Ash belongs just to you or to the others as well?”
“Just to me. All the rest gave up their rights to it when they left to start their own ranches.”
Tyler had owned a ranch? I badly needed a history lesson on the Holloways. “So you have room for me then.”
“Where?”
“At your ranch. You have room, so I could visit.”
“I suspect so.”
“Okay then, I wanna see it.”
“Suit yourself,” he told me.
Suit myself? So I could stay there if I wanted to even though he hated me. How did that make any sense at all? The man had spit at my feet, but now I could pop over to his place for a beer? “Mr. Holloway, sir, you are not making a lot of sense.”
“Oh, no?”
“No,” I said, looking him in the eyes.
“Rand,” he said, clearing his throat. “He cares for you, does he?”
Why did that even matter? “Yes.”
He nodded, gave Bella a final pat, and then got up and walked away without another word.
“What the fuck?” I said to my dog.
She tipped her head like I was the one who was confused.
Going into the trailer, I got out of my pseudo club clothes, took a quick shower, and was lying in bed trying to think of who to call when it hit me, and I dialed Rand’s mother, May.
“Stefan honey,” she greeted me, and I could hear her smiling into the phone. “What a nice surprise.”
“Hi, May, I hope it’s not too late to call.”
“It’s only eleven at night, sweetheart. I’m not that old.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I sighed.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m confused.”
“About what?”
“Rayland Holloway.”
There was a loud bang and I realized that she’d dropped the phone on the floor.
“May?”
I heard her
swear, which she never did, and then there was fumbling. She was good and flustered.
Quick cough before I got her back. “I’m sorry, I lost the—now what’d you say?”
“I need you to tell me about Rayland Holloway.”
“Rayland?”
Her voice, the timber of it, up so high, basically sealed the deal for me. I knew what I needed to already. I just wanted to hear the story from her.
“What about him?”
“Could you run over the story for me, please?”
“What story is that?” she asked, her voice dripping with sugar.
“Why he’s fighting with Rand.”
“Sweetheart, he—”
“Please,” I begged her. “I want to understand.”
“How would I—”
“They have the same eyes, May.”
“Who does?”
“I’m not stupid. Please don’t talk to me like I am.”
There was a long sigh. “What would you like to know?”
“Who’s oldest?”
“What?” She laughed, but it was forced, breathless.
“Of the Holloway brothers.”
“Oh, well Tyler’s the oldest, then James, then Cyrus, and then Rayland.”
“Rayland said that Tyler had his own ranch too.”
“He used to.”
“What happened to it?”
“Well.” Her voice evened out, and she sounded better because we were off Rayland and talking about something else. She was back on solid ground. “Sweetheart, Tyler used to drink quite a bit, and he went through a lot of women, and the last one, Dawn, well she wasn’t like the others. She was smart. I think that’s why she was the only one he really loved, but—and I really liked her, and what she did was wrong, but her reasons for doing it were sound.”
“What’d she do?”
“Well, when she divorced Tyler, she took the ranch because by that time her name was on everything. And she did it for the people who lived on it and for the future of the ranch, but she put Tyler out of his home, and that nearly killed him.”
“Does she still run the ranch?”
“Her son does.”
“Tyler’s son?”
“Mmmm-hmmm.”
Jesus. “I thought Tyler didn’t have any children.”
“He has a son and a daughter.”
“Christ, nobody tells me anything,” I groused at her.
She laughed at me. “Well, sugar, it’s not like they’re close. I doubt Tyler’s seen those kids in twenty years.”
