by T. A. Chase
“I’ll borrow one of the ranch horses. Gonzo needs another day to laze around before I put him to work.” He finished his sandwich and carried his plate to the sink.
“After today, you can head back home, Alston. Ty can take over for you.” Dad grinned. “We’ll cut out ten head to take with you.”
“Appreciate it, Newsome.” Ren joined Tyler at the sink.
He tried not to react when their hips bumped. Heat from Ren’s body seeped through Tyler’s T-shirt and seemed to pool in his groin. Biting his lip, he stopped his moan. He pressed his erection against the counter, hoping the sharp edge would deflate it.
“Thank you.”
Ren’s warm breath blew over Tyler’s ear and he could barely focus on the words.
He cleared his throat. “No problem.”
The phone rang, breaking the haze of lust Tyler felt. He answered it.
“Lazy N.”
“Glad to hear you made it. Guess you couldn’t be bothered to call and let me know you got home all right.” JT’s words crashed over the phone.
Tyler held the receiver to his dad. “It’s JT.”
He smirked at the annoyance on his father’s face.
“We’ll go out and get started.” Ren grabbed his hat from a hook and held open the back door for Tyler.
He snatched up his long-sleeved shirt and his work Stetson. Tugging them on, he followed the older man back to the barn, trying not to trip as his eyes were tempted by the firm backside moving in front of him.
“Hey, Irish,” he called out to a red-haired ranch hand saddling one of the cow ponies.
“Ty.” Irish shook his hand. “Saw Gonzo in his stall this morning. Wasn’t sure you’d drag your ass out of bed to help.”
“I’m jumping in so we can spring Ren.” Tyler smiled.
Irish had worked for the Lazy N since before Tyler was born. The old hand had been the one to teach the twins to ride.
“Good thing.” Irish glanced at Ren. “Billy said Isaiah’s been looking for you.” Frowning, Ren moved away and pulled a phone from his shirt pocket. “Probably something up with Keith,” Irish murmured as he eased Tyler down the aisle where another horse stood, saddled and waiting for a bridle.
“Keith? What’s going on with him?” Tyler double-checked the gelding’s girth and saddle while waiting for Irish’s reply.
“Kid got back from Iraq two months ago and he’s messed up.” His friend shook his head. “Ren said he was injured by a roadside bomb, but that wound’s healed. It’s the stuff in his head screwing with him.” Irish tapped a finger to his temple.
“Hmmm…” Tyler didn’t speak.
Ren headed toward them, a concerned expression on his face.
“Why don’t you take off, Ren,” Tyler suggested. “I can take over your spot. We’ll trailer Solace and the steers over to you tomorrow.”
“You don’t mind?”
Tyler could tell Ren was worried about something. “No. I was going to take over for you anyway. You can head home early. Hope everything’s okay.”
Ren’s full lips quirked in a quick smile. “Someday they will be. It’s good to have you home, Tyler.”
He watched Ren stride to an older model Ford truck with “Alston Quarter Horses” stenciled on the side. Irish nudged him when the vehicle disappeared from sight.
“Come on, kid. Day’s wasting.”
He led the chestnut outside and mounted, suddenly eager to get back into the flow of the ranch.
§ § § §
Isaiah stepped out on the porch when Ren pulled up in front of their house. Joining his younger brother, he took the cup of coffee the other man held out to him.
“Where is he?”
“Holed up in the line shack out by the foothills. He has one shotgun with bullets that I know of.” Isaiah snorted. “He’s probably got a ton of weapons stashed as well.”
Ren rubbed the back of his neck. “What set him off this time?”
“Who knows? We had a few breeders and buyers stop in. Maybe there was too much noise and people. You know he doesn’t do well with either yet.”
Both men understood what their youngest brother was going through. Each had served their time in the military and had seen action. Ren in Bosnia. Isaiah in Afghanistan and now Keith in Iraq.
They all had problems when they came back. Ren went days without sleeping because of nightmares. Isaiah hated the dark and left lights on at night. They didn’t know what Keith’s issues were…yet.
“We’ll let it go for a while, but if it goes on too long or gets worse, we’ll get him help.”
Ren didn’t subscribe to the theory that real men dealt with their problems on their own. At times, the world got too heavy to carry by one’s self and that was when you talked to someone.
“Nice of Newsome to let you go early. Are we still getting those steers?” Isaiah leaned against the porch railing.
“Yeah. He didn’t need me. Tyler said they’d trailer the steers and Solace over tomorrow.” Ren sat on the top step and waited.
“Tyler, huh? He come home alone?”
“I knew you wouldn’t resist.” He laughed. “Tyler quit the circuit. He’s home for good. From what I can tell, JT’s not happy about it.”
“Without Tyler, that spoiled brat will have to be responsible and take care of his own mistakes.”
“I’m not sure a twenty-six-year-old can be called a spoiled brat,” he commented.
“This one can be.” Isaiah met his gaze. “You know I didn’t like the fact you were messing around with JT. As much as I don’t like him, you were using him because you didn’t have the courage to ask his brother out.”
Ren closed his eyes and sighed. “I know, but I can’t help thinking JT came looking for me. I’m not the kid’s type, you know. I’m way older and bigger than his usual boy toys.”
“Are you making yourself feel better by thinking he was using you as well?” Isaiah didn’t sound like he believed him.
“Maybe.” Draining his cup, he stood and handed it to Isaiah. “I’ll go work some of the four year olds.”
“That mare you bred to Hersch’s stallion is about to drop. It’ll be some time tonight.” Isaiah headed back inside.
“I’ve got that watch. Won’t be sleeping any way.”
Ren hit the barn and immersed himself in work, trying to forget Tyler Newsome and his brother for a while.
Chapter Three
Tyler eased to a stop in front of Ren’s barn the next day. He’d called earlier to make sure it was okay to bring the cattle over. Climbing out, he greeted the middle Alston brother.
Isaiah was two years older than Tyler. He remembered watching Isaiah on the football team in high school. The Alstons were one of the founding families of the town. Also, even though their horse ranch was small, it was growing a reputation for providing some of the finest grulla quarter horses in the states.
“Thanks for bringing them over, Ty.” Isaiah greeted him with a handshake. “And for returning Solace. Ren would be lost without her.”
“No big deal. Least I could do since Ren was good enough to help Dad out. I know you all are pretty busy around here.” He gestured to the buildings around him.
“It was the cheapest way to restock our herd. We don’t want the cutting horses to train on full-grown cattle. Too much chance of being injured.”
Isaiah whistled, getting the attention of two cowboys exercising a couple of horses. “Let’s get the steers unloaded, gentlemen, and get Solace settled in her paddock. Ren will want to check her over as soon as he wakes up.”
“He’s still sleeping?” It was four in the afternoon. “Is he okay?”
“One of our mares foaled last night. He stayed up to make sure there weren’t any complications, plus he’d been awake for at least three days straight. He doesn’t sleep much anymore, but when his mind finally lets him crash, I leave him alone.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
Tyler wandered over to the fence and watched as the ranch
hands herded the cattle.
“Ren said you were home for good.”
He shot Isaiah a quick look, surprised. None of the Alston men were known for making small talk. “Yeah. I don’t have a lasting career in the rodeo. You’d think it wouldn’t have taken me eight years to figure that out. A slow learner, I guess.”
Isaiah shook his head. “No, just a loyal brother. Rodeoing always seemed more JT’s dream than yours.”
The faint crack of a gun made them whirl around.
“Fuck,” Isaiah muttered. “Dumb ass better not have killed himself or I’ll do it with my own hands.”
Tyler stayed next to the fence, watching as Isaiah climbed into a beat-up truck and he stared as Ren raced from the house, boots in hand and shirt unbuttoned. Ren jumped in the truck, slamming the door. They took off in cloud of dust. Turning away to keep from choking on the cloud, Tyler spotted a familiar face among the Alston hands.
“Strom, what’s that about?” He nodded toward the rapidly disappearing vehicle.
“Keith’s up at the old line shack. Ren says the kid has post traumatic stress or something like that. Made him a little crazy in the head. Hopefully he was shooting at a coyote.”
Tyler hoped so too, but he kept his wish silent. “Finish up with the steers, Strom. I’ll take care of Solace. When you talk to Ren, let him know we’re having a BBQ at the Lazy N on Saturday. Everyone’s invited.”
“Will do, Ty. Tell your dad thanks.” Strom looked relieved when Tyler said he’d take care of Ren’s mare.
Chuckling, Tyler went to where Solace stood, tied to the side of the trailer. He scratched under her black mane. “You must be as picky as my Gonzo, sweet lady.” Solace laid her ears back for a second. “Don’t worry. I’m sure your favorite human will be around to check on you soon enough.”
He kept the murmuring up as he led the mare to the cross-ties and began grooming her.
§ § § §
“He better be shooting at coyotes or something,” Ren snarled, bracing his hand against the dashboard as Isaiah bottomed the truck out in a gully. “Why the fuck did you let him take a gun?”
“Let him? Have you seen our little brother lately? I don’t let him do anything because I can’t stop him.” Isaiah slowed to steer the Ford in and out of another rut. “By the time I realized something was wrong, he was gone. I don’t know for sure what he took except food and water. There was already a shotgun up there.”
Ren gritted his teeth, wanting to yell at Isaiah more, but knowing it wasn’t his brother’s fault. Hell, none of it was anyone’s fault unless he wanted to be mad at the men who started the fighting and that would be useless.
He prayed they’d find Keith in one piece, not bleeding or caught up in flashbacks. Ren made one decision, though.
“He’s going to San Diego next week. I want him to see your therapist.”
Isaiah didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Rick will let him crash at his place. We won’t have to worry about him being alone out there.”
“I hate forcing this on him, Isaiah, but he’s not getting better.”
The brothers remained silent for the rest of the journey.
Keith stood in the line shack’s clearing over a coyote carcass. Ren approached cautiously, not trying to be quiet. He didn’t want to surprise his youngest brother.
“Keith,” he said in a low voice.
Pain and shock hit him when Keith’s tear-filled eyes met his gaze. Ren raced forward, catching Keith in his arms as the man collapsed. Isaiah took the gun out of Keith’s tight grip.
Ren smoothed the wrinkled fabric of Keith’s shirt with his hands and tried to soothe the tremors wracking Keith.
“I need help.”
Keith’s tortured admission ripped at Ren’s heart, but also gave him hope. He’d learned the hard way that help only worked when you accepted the fact you needed it.
Isaiah rested trembling hands on Ren and Keith’s shoulders. “We’ll get it for you, Keith, and we’ll be here to help you as well.”
They all took deep breaths, heartbeats calming and adrenaline going back to normal. Ren climbed to his feet, grimacing at the crack of his knees. Between him and Isaiah, they got Keith up without putting too much strain on Keith’s chest. He’d been wounded there and while it was healed, it was still a little sore, especially with too much strain.
“Go pack your stuff while we bury the animal.” He gave Keith a little push toward the shack.
“I didn’t want to shoot it, Ren.” Keith’s eyes welled up again. “It wouldn’t stop coming toward me. No matter what I did, it wouldn’t stop. I think I had a flashback because I don’t remember much after throwing a rock at it.”
“It was probably sick. Killing it was the best thing for it.” Isaiah handed Ren a shovel. “Go pack, so we can go home.”
§ § § §
Later that night, Ren eased down into his chair and put his feet up on his desk. The study was dark. He didn’t feel like turning any lights on. Dialing the phone, he leaned his head back, staring at the shadows on the ceiling.
“Lazy N.” A husky, sleep-tinged voice answered.
“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the time.” He wanted to smack his forehead. Idiot. It was after midnight and most normal people were in bed. Of course, when you didn’t sleep for days on end, time blended together and became meaningless.
“Ren? Is everything okay?” Tyler’s voice perked up.
“Everything’s fine, Tyler. I’m going to hang up and call you in the morning.” He started to do just that.
“Wait. I’m awake. What did you want to talk about?” A rustle and a low grunt made Ren imagine Tyler moving in bed.
“I wanted to thank you for delivering the cattle and for taking care of Solace. I hope she didn’t give you any problems.” Tyler’s warm laugh eased the tension from Ren’s body. He closed his eyes, wondering if Tyler’s hands would have the same effect.
“Your mare’s like my gelding. They have their likes and dislikes. Luckily, she let me sweet-talk her into doing what I wanted.”
“It’s your voice. God knows, you could talk me into doing anything you wanted.” The quick intake of breath on the other end of the connection clued Ren in on what he said. “Sorry. Not the best time to say something like that.”
“Do you mean it?” Tyler’s question was soft and hesitant.
“Yes, but just because I mean it doesn’t mean I should blurt it out over the phone like that.” He scrubbed his chin and grimaced at the feel of stubble under his fingers.
Tyler agreed. “You’re right. You need to say it to my face.”
“I will. We have things to discuss, Tyler.” Not least of which was the fact that Ren had slept with Tyler’s twin brother.
“I know. How about we meet up at the party on Saturday and we’ll talk then?” The younger man’s suggestion was reasonable.
“It’s a date. Sleep well, darling.” He winced as the endearment slipped out.
Tyler sounded pleased. “I hope you get some rest as well, Ren. I’ll see you Saturday night.”
Ren placed his phone on the desk and sat, absorbing the idea of having a date. And this time was with the right Newsome brother.
Chapter Four
Tyler changed his shirt for the third time, stared at himself in the mirror and stripped it off. He tossed it on the pile with the first two he’d tried on. He shook his head in disgust.
Jesus. You’d think he was meeting the president the way he couldn’t decide what to wear. It wasn’t like Ren hadn’t seen him a thousand times covered in horse shit, cow shit or mud.
Maybe that was why he was nervous. This was an actual date, not running into each other at the auction or at each other’s ranch. This could be the start of something or the end of everything. He flung the shirts across the room in frustration and they landed on a framed photo sitting on his dresser. Picking it up, he grinned at the picture of him and JT, arms around each other’s shoulders, holding up their champio
nship buckles.
His smile disappeared. All this nervousness and worry might mean nothing if they couldn’t get around the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room. Tyler wasn’t sure he was ready to hear Ren admit to liking his brother. The words JT had flung at him when he left still rang in his ears.
“Ty, get your ass out here.” His dad pounded on the door.
“Coming,” he called, grabbing a shirt off the pile and buttoning it up. He tucked it in, pulled on his good boots and picked up his second best hat off the hook on the wall.
He laughed as he took another quick glance in the mirror. He must be starting to get in touch with his feminine side, considering how long he took to get ready for the party. Heading downstairs, he got outside just as Ren and his brothers climbed out of their trucks. Tyler took Ren driving separately as a good sign.
He flashed Ren a grin before greeting Isaiah and Keith. Keith had graduated a year before Tyler, but they’d been friends. His eyes widened when he saw how pale and thin the man had become. There was a haunted quality in the youngest Alston’s eyes. Keith smiled at him.
“Nice of your dad to throw a party, Ty.”
He shook Keith’s hand. “A lot of guys worked hard during the round-up. Gives them a chance to relax and blow off some steam. How’ve you been?”
“Been better. Got injured in Iraq and they gave me my discharge. I have some issues to work out.” Keith nodded toward Isaiah. “I’m leaving for San Diego on Monday. Meeting up with the therapist Isaiah saw when he got home. I’m hoping he’ll help me out.”
Tyler squeezed Keith’s hand. “I’ll be hoping as well. If the guy can straighten Isaiah out, he must be a miracle worker.”
He winked at Keith while dodging the punch Isaiah threw at him.
“Smart ass,” Isaiah snarled at him playfully. “Come on, Keith. Let’s get some food before the crowd eats it all.”
Ren stepped up beside Tyler and they watched Ren’s brothers walk away. Tyler shot a look at Ren.
“He’ll be okay with the crowd?”
“Isaiah’ll keep an eye on him and if things start getting bad, they’ll head home.”
The intense gaze of Ren’s eyes caused heat to swell and pool in Tyler’s groin. Shit. He glanced around, making sure no one watched them before he adjusted his cock. He wished he wore looser jeans.
