A Wild Ride

by Andrew Grey

  “Was that Ryan you were telling off?” Gramps asked from the bed.

  “Un-huh,” Dante said. “It doesn’t matter.”

  The nurse came in and checked Gramps over. She was followed quickly by the doctor.

  “Well, Mr. Murphy, you gave us all a bit of a scare, but we believe you’re going to be all right.” He turned to Dante. “Unfortunately, with ALS, sometimes there are spells where the body becomes weak and then recovers. We believe this was one of them. I’d like to keep him overnight to make sure there isn’t something else wrong with him.” The doctor turned to Gramps. “We have a bed for you and we’ll be moving you to a room soon.” The doctor smiled at Gramps and then caught Dante’s eye. The doctor left, and Dante followed him out into the hall. “You’re aware that his condition is fairly advanced and it isn’t going to be long now before he won’t be able to do much on his own. His nerve cells are quickly wearing out.”

  “I know, but I want him to be as comfortable as he can. He’s all I have.”

  Dante swallowed hard as an image of Ryan flashed into his mind. His Ryan, who sounded so strong and took charge when it was just the two of them, but deferred to him around the ranch and treated him as an equal. Who made him scream whenever they were together, but who held him tight like he was the most precious person in the world once their passion was spent. Dante pushed the image from his mind as he forced his attention back to the doctor.

  “It’s natural to be concerned,” the doctor said. “And if you like, I can have the hospital counselor stop by to speak with you. She can talk to both of you and help you make some decisions about your grandfather’s care.”

  Dante narrowed his expression. “What sort of decisions?”

  “He’s eventually going to need round-the-clock nursing care. It could come to the point where he can’t eat on his own or control much of his body,” the doctor said, and Dante got the picture.

  “Gramps is going to be cared for at home. It’s where he belongs,” Dante said firmly. He knew he was being stubborn, and he also wondered how he would be able to afford nursing care if he needed it, but he’d be damned if he’d put Gramps in a home. That was not going to happen. “Other people may get put in one of those places, but not Gramps.”

  The doctor’s expression softened. “I know how you feel. But please talk to Susan. She may be able to help you with options you aren’t aware of.”

  “I will, but I won’t promise anything,” Dante said, and the doctor shook his head slightly.

  “I saw you ride in the finals a few weeks ago. You were amazing, and I understand the dedication and sheer guts it takes to be able to ride like that. That grit has served you very well, and if I can guess, will get you back to the finals. But that stubborn determination may not be what your grandfather needs.” The doctor shifted his gaze, and Dante followed it to Gramps, whose eyes were closed. He seemed so peaceful. “He needs to be kept as comfortable as possible, and his care may be a lot more than you’re able to provide.”

  Dante watched Gramps sleeping and felt his determination waver, big-time. If Gramps needed care, then he’d get it for him, somehow. “I’ll talk to her,” Dante agreed.

  “Good,” the doctor said. “You don’t have to make any decisions now, but it’s good to know what to expect and what all the options are.” An orderly approached, and the doctor stepped out of the way. “I’ll be up to check on him once he’s been moved and settled. I suggest once he’s set that you go home and get some rest. He’s going to need you to be strong and able to make decisions he can’t.” The doctor gave Dante a small half smile and then turned to leave.

  “Are you ready for a ride?” the orderly asked, and Gramps opened his eyes, muttering something while the orderly got him ready. The bed thunked loudly, and then the orderly began slowly moving the bed out of the room and into the hallway. Dante followed behind, carrying Gramps’s clothes. They moved through nondescript corridors and into the elevator. Gramps was awake but quiet. Dante worried and shifted from foot to foot until they reached their floor and the elevator doors slid open.

  They continued their quiet journey down more hallways, and then they turned into a small room. The lights were dim, and the orderly made sure Gramps was settled before leaving the room.

  “Go home, Dante,” Gramps said softly. “There’s nothing you can do. Nothing anyone can do.”

  Dante hesitated. He hated hearing the defeated tone in Gramps voice. “I….”

  Gramps moved his hand toward Dante, and he took it gently. “You need to worry about yourself and not about me,” Gramps said. “You took care of me for long enough. You need to see about yourself.” Gramps moved his hand slightly and then it seemed to go limp in Dante’s hand.

  “Gramps,” Dante said softly. “You gotta fight this.”

  “Try, but getting tired,” Gramps said, and Dante gently tucked Gramps’s hand under the covers. Gramps closed his eyes, and Dante was about to leave when a nurse came in.

  “This will help you sleep,” she said. “It’s mild, but you need to rest.” She injected part of the syringe into Gramps’s IV. “He’ll be asleep for a while,” the nurse told him, and Dante watched her leave. He waited until Gramps was asleep and then quietly left the room, following the signs to the elevator and then out of the hospital.

  He drove back to the ranch, banging his hands on the steering wheel in frustration every few minutes. Gramps needed to fight; he couldn’t give up, he just couldn’t. The outside lights were on when he pulled into the drive. He bounced down the drive and parked next to a familiar car. Dante turned off the engine and banged the steering wheel one more time for good measure before getting out of his truck.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Dante said before slamming the truck door and marching up onto the porch. “Gramps is in the hospital acting like he’s given up, and some guy called about selling the ranch. Now, much as I’d like to blame you for Gramps being sick, I can’t, but I sure as shit know you’re behind the fucking Realtor and Gramps getting it into his head to sell our home.” Dante marched up to Ryan. “Don’t got nothing to say?”

  “Dante, I…,” Ryan began, but Dante didn’t want to hear any damned excuses.

  “Fuck you,” Dante yelled, and without thinking, he pulled back his fist and punched Ryan on the jaw before turning and going inside. He didn’t wait around to see if Ryan went down and barely heard the cry of surprise and pain before he had the door unlocked and the heavy front door slammed closed behind him. All the frustration and fear that had welled up inside him had been directed in that punch, and now Dante had very little left. “Go home, Ryan,” Dante yelled, and then he walked down the hallway and into his bedroom.

  Rapid footsteps sounded in the hall and Dante pulled open the door, ready for the oncoming onslaught.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Ryan yelled as he barreled into Dante, pressing him until he fell back on the bed. “First you yell and hang up on me and now you fucking punched me. What’s got into you? Did a bull stomp on your thick head one too many times?”

  Dante scrambled off the bed and pushed Ryan back toward the door. “Hell, yes, I punched you, and you’re lucky I don’t kick your slimy ass to hell and back!”

  “Jesus Christ, Dante, why don’t you calm the hell down and think. Maybe you’ll make some freakin’ sense,” Ryan said, pushing him back, “because you certainly have no cause to be angry with me, let alone punch me in the jaw.”

  “I don’t?” Dante said, seething, clenching and unclenching his fists as he tried to decide if he could take another swipe at Ryan. “How about getting Gramps to sell the ranch so neither of us has a home? I think that’s a big enough reason. How much of a kickback were you getting from the Realtor?”

  A storm of epic proportions rose up in Ryan’s eyes. “You stupid son of a bitch. Did you ask your grandfather? Of course not. You just jumped to conclusions. Gramps asked me to get him in touch with a Realtor. It was his idea to sell the ranch. I had
nothing to do with it.”

  “Liar!” Dante cried and lunged for Ryan. “Gramps would never sell this place if you didn’t put him up to it.”

  Ryan dodged him. “Calm down, Dante,” Ryan snapped, using the same voice he did when they were alone. “Your grandfather wanted to sell the ranch because he was afraid he’d have to go into a home and he didn’t want you to try to take care of the place on your own.”

  Dante stilled, angry as hell and barely containing his fury. “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything, then?”

  “Because Gramps forbade me from telling anyone. He said he was going to tell you, but he didn’t. I tried to get him to talk it over with you. I know how much you love this place and how much the ranch means to you. I saw it the first day you showed me around. He kept telling me that the ranch was too small to be viable and that he needed to sell it so he didn’t wrap a millstone around your neck.”

  Dante felt some of his anger slip away. “Where did he get that crazy idea, I wonder?” Dante made a show of scratching his chin.

  “I don’t know,” Ryan said. “But that’s what he told me. He also specifically asked that I help him find a Realtor from out of town because the people here were busybodies and he didn’t want everyone knowing his business.”

  “That sounds like Gramps,” Dante said, not really sure how much of this he believed. “Was there anything in that shoebox of his that turned out to be worth anything?”

  “Yes, but I can’t discuss that with you without Hy’s express permission. I suggest you talk to him,” Ryan said, rubbing his fingers over his jaw. “You really are an ass, you know that?” Ryan moved his jaw back and forth. “If you’d have asked me what was going on, I would have told you what I could. There was no need to hit me.” Ryan took a step forward. “And just for the record, cowboy, the only reason I’m not beating the living crap out of you is because I know you’re hurting because Hy’s in the hospital. But if you do it again, I’ll lay you out into the middle of next week.” Ryan’s expression said he was serious, but Dante chuckled anyway.

  “Sure you will,” he said, glaring at Ryan.

  Ryan took a step back, and before Dante knew what happened, his legs flew out from under him and he found himself flat on his back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, struggling to get air into his lungs. “Like I said, cowboy,” Ryan began, just as calm as if nothing had happened, “I’m not someone to mess with.”

  Ryan extended his hand, and Dante took it, letting Ryan tug him back to his feet. “I guess. Who’d have thought,” Dante sighed. “Guess I deserved that one.”

  “You deserved more than that one, but we’ll call it even,” Ryan said firmly. Then he turned and left the room, leaving Dante to stare after him, wondering just what in hell was happening. He was so fucking turned around he didn’t know what the hell to believe.

  “Wait,” Dante said and strode through the house, catching up with Ryan as he reached the front door.

  “What? You want another pissing contest? Because I’ve had just about all of those I can stand for one day. Look, I can’t tell you what’s in Hy’s account because he asked me not to. As for the ranch, selling was his idea. He kept saying he didn’t want to saddle you with it, and I kept telling him to ask you what you wanted, but I suspect he’s too stubborn for his own good… just like someone else I know.” Ryan reached for the door and pulled it open.

  “Wait,” Dante said. “Why’d you come out here?” The question suddenly seemed important. Ryan had known how angry Dante was, and yet he’d been sitting on the porch waiting for him to come home even after Dante had yelled and hung up on him.

  “Sometimes you’re a fool, you know that?” Ryan said.

  “What?” That wasn’t the answer he’d expected.

  “Why in the hell do you think I came out here?” Ryan asked, and Dante shrugged. “I called and you said Hy was in the hospital. That is, before you hung up on me.” Ryan shook his head. “I came out here because I wanted to make sure Hy was all right, that you were all right.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “You’re obviously fine, if acting like a bigger ass than usual, and I assume Hy isn’t in any immediate danger.” Ryan still had his hand on the doorknob, but he didn’t make any move to leave.

  “They’re keeping him overnight so they can run some tests,” Dante said. “Is that all you want?”

  Ryan huffed rather loudly. “You are a damned fool, Dante, a huge damned fool. Yes, I wanted to know how Hy was doing, but I came out here because of you. I knew you would be torn up and… okay… I’ll be the one to say it, I care about you. Lord help me, I do. And I was concerned enough to take my life in my hands and make sure you were okay. I knew you’d never answer my calls again, so I took the chance that you’d come home. I can see you’re fine, and I have a drive back to the city. Take care, Dante, and tell Hy I was asking after him.” Ryan pulled open the door and walked out, closing the door hard after him. Dante stared, blinking a few times at the wood grain as the finality of what Ryan had said sank in. He was leaving, and Dante had to make a decision fast.

  Dante pulled open the door and walked out onto the porch. Ryan was just closing his car door as Dante hurried down the steps. The engine started, and Dante rushed up to Ryan’s side of the car, lightly rapping on the window. It slid down silently, and a blast of air-conditioning washed over Dante’s skin. “I am a fool,” Dante said softly, and Ryan turned toward him.

  “What is it you want, Dante?” Ryan asked.

  Dante hesitated for a few seconds, and Ryan put the car into gear. “I believe you,” Dante said as the car slowly began to roll backward. It stopped, and Ryan leaned his head out of the open window. “I don’t want you to leave. Not like this. Not forever.” Dante’s heart pounded and he wished things weren’t so damned complicated all the time. “I guess… no, I shouldn’t… have jumped to all those conclusions about you.”

  The window went up again, and Dante stepped back, expecting Ryan to begin backing away again, but the engine silenced and Ryan’s door opened. He got out, and Dante waited a bit nervously. He hated feeling like this, but the thought of Ryan leaving for good had scared him. “I don’t lie, Dante, and I’m extremely honest in all my business dealings.”

  “I know… or I should have known. You’ve never been anything but honest with me. So it was really Gramps who wanted to sell the ranch?”

  “Yes. I really believe he thought he was doing you a favor. He said the ranch hasn’t been making money for years, and I think he was afraid you’d sink all your money into it and be left with nothing.”

  Dante motioned toward the house and followed Ryan inside. “Would you like a beer?” Dante asked. “I could certainly use one.” He pulled two bottles out of the refrigerator and handed one to Ryan without waiting for his answer. “I haven’t sunk a dime into the ranch. It hasn’t made much money in the last few years, but it’s holding its own. Gramps hasn’t been able to keep the books in a while, so I’ve been doing it. Our expenses are rather low, and I’ve kept the herd small because it was what I could manage and take care of Gramps while competing.” Dante took a gulp from his bottle. “I’ve done well with prize money and I have sponsors that help pay most of the expenses.” Dante took another pull. “Shit,” he said before leaping off the sofa and hurrying to his room. Dante snatched his date book off the dresser and rifled through it as he carried it and the beer back to the living room.

  “What is it?” Ryan asked.

  He found the page and breathed a sigh of relief. “My sponsor, Dunbar’s, is a maker of western gear, and I have a signing at a store in Houston. It’s part of my deal with them.” Dante made a note to call them and confirm the time he was supposed to be there. “Thankfully it’s not till next week. I do four or five of these a year as well as make appearances at the stores that sell their clothes when I’m on tour. I meet fans, and they sell more clothes and stuff.” Dante set his date book on the table and sat on the sofa again.

  Ryan finished his beer and set
the bottle next to Dante’s. “Do they know about you?”

  Dante shook his head. “No. I’ve always been careful when I’m on tour. I don’t spend a lot of time going to bars and stuff.”

  “Then why did you go out that night?” Ryan asked, settling on the cushions.

  Dante stood up, grabbed the bottles, and carried them to the kitchen. “I had just lost the finals by two one-hundredths of a point. I needed something, and I was so pent up, I did something I never do and went out looking for guys. I guess I got lucky when I found you.” Dante grabbed two more bottles from the refrigerator and carried them back to the living room. “I’ve always been so careful, but I never lied—just didn’t discuss it.” Dante settled on the sofa. “Gramps drilled into me as a kid that lies get you nowhere, so I did what I had to do to avoid them. I don’t socialize with the other riders and cowboys. After events, I went back to my hotel or came back here when I could. I didn’t get to know many of the other riders in any way but professionally. But that loss did something to me.” Dante opened his bottle and took a long pull, gulping hard. He wanted to forget all about this day. “I’d heard about the bar we were at, where people weren’t necessarily picky about who they went home with.”

  Ryan opened his bottle and lightly clinked the side of Dante’s. “Jacky dragged me there. I don’t have time to go out much, and he pushed me in your direction too. So I guess it was luck that we met when we did.” Ryan settled back, drinking from his bottle, but Dante could feel his gaze on him almost like a craved touch. Dante took another drink and closed his eyes. If Ryan wanted to look, he could. “You’ve had a hard day,” Ryan said, and the bottle clinked as he set it on the coffee table. “I know the temptation is to drink to try to make all this crap go away, but it isn’t going to work.” Ryan stood up and gently took the beer bottle from Dante’s hand. He set it on the coffee table next to his own and tugged Dante to his feet. “Come on,” Ryan said.