by BA Tortuga
This had to be the worst kind of hell.
“Well, let’s check in with the nurse’s station so they know and head out.” Curtis stood, waiting for Stetson to join him.
Stetson took his hand, levered himself up, and surprised him with a quick, hard hug. “I know it ain’t real, cowboy, but….”
Curtis took it, the scent of Old Spice and Irish Spring soap strong. He loved touching this man. They fit together like hand in glove. Always had.
“Shut up.” He patted Stetson’s back. “I got you.”
“I…. Come on. We got to get moving, huh? We can just drive.” Stetson all but charged to the nurse’s station.
“We’ll take the rental.” That way Stetson couldn’t smoke, and they’d be less likely to break down.
“Works for me.” Stetson could hide behind the brim of his hat better than anyone he’d ever met. “You can drive.”
“Sure, babe.” Curtis loved driving around Santa Fe, with its weird warren of roads and crazy buildings. Maybe they could even head down to Madrid and back.
Wherever, so long as Stetson relaxed. He was so tense he was gonna explode, and that did no one any good.
Maybe Curtis could feed the man again too.
Something decadent so he could watch Stetson eat. He lived for those little sex noises Stetson made when he ate barbecue or cheesecake or something.
Maybe cannoli. Watching that gave him a happy that wouldn’t quit.
“What are you grinning so hard for?” Stetson asked after he’d left a note with the nurses to call if anything happened.
“Thinking about watching you eat.” Might as well hang for a sheep as well as a lamb. The statement was honest, at least.
Stetson blinked at him, and then he got a warm, pleased grin.
Yeah. Woo. He led the way out to the truck, a little bounce in his step. Okay, so the situation sucked. Didn’t mean they couldn’t make the best of it.
He had the one he wanted for a couple of days. He might as well be hip-deep in it.
Chapter Seven
STETSON HAD called the nurses, and they said Momma was sleeping hard, the bath and hairdo wearing her out, so they headed out to the ranch while there was still daylight.
That was when he remembered why he lived here, why he stayed. His soul was in this land, buried in the dirt like the pueblos. The sky was huge and blue, the sun sinking into his bones and making the cold seem like it wasn’t even there.
Curtis whistled, shoveling manure like a man possessed. Silly man, happy with something to do for him.
He found himself aching to get Bell and Vixen saddled up, run them down along the river. They needed the exercise, and it wasn’t like it was hot or anything…. He stared off at the horizon, the longing huge.
“You wanting to ride, Roper?” Curtis asked.
“How did you know?” He hadn’t said a word.
“You keep looking at the clouds. I haven’t had a pleasure ride since I went to visit Shelly in Montana a few years ago.”
“No shit? That’s a long time, cowboy. We could go now.”
“We so could.” Curtis moved close, bumping hips with him. “Let’s play.”
“I’ll grab the saddles. You get the horses.”
“Point me and shoot me.” Curtis slapped one hand on his leg, so tickled it was palpable.
Curtis didn’t know his stock anymore, did he? He whistled up the horses, and Bell and Vixen came right up, eager as all get-out.
“Oh, look at you two.” Curtis clipped leads to harnesses and led the horses into the yard for him to saddle up.
Blanket. Saddle. Cinch strap. The motions were easy as pie, natural as breathing. Stetson found peace in the simple actions, in the warmth and the scent of the horses.
“You should ride every day, Roper.” Curtis watched him like a hawk.
“I do when I have time.” He tried not to get defensive. Curtis wanted the best for him. There was no accusation going on there. Just a desire for him to do something he loved.
“That’s not what I meant, butthead. I meant you can tell it makes you damn happy.”
“It does. I love the horses; you know that.” His horses were his whole world. The goats and donkey and everything else were amazing, but the horses he needed like air. There were days, years even, where nothing else made sense.
“Yessir. More than anything.” Curtis took the reins once he had Bell tacked out. Then he measured the stirrups against one arm. It gave Stetson a happy, seeing the easy motion, the way Curtis was made for this, sorta like he was.
Stetson got Vixen ready quick as a snap, the sweet girl stamping and tossing her head in excitement. “Don’t make me put on a tie-down, you pain in the butt.”
“She’s ready to go, huh?” Curtis grinned, swinging up easily on Bell.
“She’s a butthead, and she needs exercise.” Stetson settled in the saddle, feeling like this was where he belonged, one hundred percent, balls to bones. “Let’s head down to the water, see what we can see.”
“Sounds good. Lead the way, huh? Been a long time.” Curtis didn’t look like he’d been out of the saddle at all.
“Doesn’t look it.”
“Thanks, Roper.”
Curtis had called him by that nickname ever since they’d met. Stetson had curled his lip and said, “Roughstock riders. All hat and no cattle.”
Curtis had laughed and said, “What are you, a roper?”
He was, but not professionally. Professionally he was a cowboy. Cattle. Horses. Land. Periodic woodwork on the side. Maybe more than periodic.
They headed out, the wind bracing, stealing his breath, and he loved it. He loved how the cold air really curled a man’s nose hairs, how the sky was so frickin’ clear and the land was so red and tan and vibrant.
For the first time in months, he felt himself relax, let himself feel like he was home. He grinned when Vixen tossed her head again, then gave her a lot of rein. “Go, girl.”
They started running, Vixen taking off like shit through a goose, her hooves churning up the dirt. He heard Curtis whoop, and Bell was behind them suddenly, pushing them. No way would Bell outrun Vixen, though.
He leaned down, reducing the resistance and letting the speed wipe him clean. They hurtled toward the river, Vixen surefooted on the uneven ground, skirting rocks and brush.
God, please, he prayed. Help me. Help me survive this. I need you.
They pulled up in a lazy circle before they hit the riverbank. He didn’t want Vixen too close to the loose soil there. If she wanted a drink, there was a cutout a few hundred yards downstream.
“God, baby.” The heat in Curtis’s voice surprised him, and he raised one eyebrow in question. “Look at you ride.”
Stetson felt himself flush—from top to bottom, just flooding with heat. Those blue eyes took in every detail, and he couldn’t escape them. Didn’t want to.
“You were born for it, I swear to God.” Curtis didn’t hide his hunger, the way that he wanted to touch. Taste.
Oh God. Stetson remembered that.
Curtis had an amazing mouth and loved to use it. Kissing, sucking, licking…. His cock hardened, which amazed him a little. Still worked. Go him.
He shifted in the saddle, and Curtis grinned at him like he knew what he was thinking. Hell, it had to be obvious, even with him straddling leather.
“You be good now.” He didn’t want that. In fact, he was hoping for not good at all.
“Too late for that, Roper. I’m a bad boy.”
“Flirt. I remember all too well how bad you could be.”
“I’m not flirting. I’m stating intent. I’m gonna have you, Stetson.” Curtis was so damned… sexual. He’d always loved that.
“Are you?” He didn’t think he’d mind. In fact he might beg for it, just one more time.
“I am. I been thinking on it a lot, and I reckon it’s what we both want, even if it’s just while I’m here this time.”
“It is.” Why fight it, right? He
wasn’t going to get a lot more chances at this. Shit, his chances were rolling downhill straight to hell.
“That’s it.” Curtis chuckled, nudging Bell into a walk along the river.
They wandered, nice and easy, not talking, just being there. The horses seemed to feel the same way, tails and ears flicking. The wind was quiet down here, and the water was burbling along.
He liked that Curtis didn’t need to babble, that they could be still. They stopped at a clearing where he could see straight down through to the mountains. This was his momma’s favorite place in the world, this cut of land.
I was born right down there, son, in the same house your gran was born in right down there. He could hear her, clear as a bell, telling him the stories of his people, one after another, generations of love right here.
He almost doubled over with the pain of it just then. She would never see this view again, not in person, and if he showed her a picture, would she remember?
Vixen danced underneath him, and Curtis reached for him, quick as any safety man he’d ever seen in an arena. “Hold it together, Roper.”
“I’m trying, Curtis. I can’t fucking breathe.”
“I know. I want to make it better for you.”
But Curtis couldn’t. No one could. Stetson grabbed Curtis’s hand and held on. That was the best he had.
Curtis tugged him down off Vixen, then pulled him into a hug that damn near hurt, he needed it so much. His horses all ground tied, so he didn’t worry about it, just held on.
He didn’t cry, didn’t kiss or think. He just held on tight.
The solid feel of Curtis holding him up, breathing with him, made it better. A lot better.
“I’m sorry, cowboy. In a perfect world….” Well, he’d be rich and stable and he’d be one of Curtis Traynor’s sponsors, not a broke-dick dirt farmer.
“Shit, that’s never gonna happen.” Curtis kissed his cheek, purely platonic. “No one wants perfect, Roper.”
“Handy, since no one gets it.” He looked at the view, the gorgeous sight of bright blue bouncing off the red dirt of the desert.
“It’s so quiet here.” Curtis sounded pleased, not unhappy. Stetson reckoned the rodeo life was rarely silent. That had been one of the reasons he didn’t want to go with Curtis. Not the biggest reason. Hell, not even in the top ten, but it was a reason.
“It’s heaven.” He believed that, with all his heart. This ranch, the land, it was the closest to the good Lord as he could hope to get.
“It’s God’s country, for sure. And I’m from Texas, so that means something.” Curtis chuckled, a teeny puff of sound.
“I promise not to tell you were unfaithful, cowboy.”
“Thanks.” The chuckle turned to a full-out laugh. “I got to uphold the Lone Star, or they’ll run my ass out on a rail.”
He found himself smiling, and he leaned into Curtis’s arms for a second longer before pulling away to stand on his own holey boots.
“You ready to do some more riding, babe? I want to see some of that ghost town.”
“Let’s go. You want some water? I grabbed a couple bottles.”
“Sounds great.” Curtis took a bottle from him, long, tanned throat working hard when he swallowed. Stetson wanted to touch, wanted to feel Curtis’s Adam’s apple bobbing under his fingers.
He took a deep breath. Ghost town. They’d gone there a lot when Curtis had stayed with him before.
There wasn’t any cell service that far out either. No one could bother them. He wanted to just keep riding, to forget everything else for a long while.
Maybe it was shitty of him, but he could live with that fact.
“Hey.” When he looked over, Curtis smiled. “I put some granola bars in my pocket.”
“Did you? I’d share one with you.” Curtis kept trying to feed him; he must be skinny.
“Cool. I’m starving.” The cooler air and higher altitude meant Curtis needed more too. Man had not one spare ounce on him.
“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re at your fighting weight. You looking forward to heading back?”
“I want the season over, so kinda.” Curtis shrugged before pulling out a bar for them to share. “I don’t know. I’m thinking of skipping stock show season in January.”
“Yeah? I’ve gone to Fort Worth a few times, but not in a while.” Thinking of skipping the big shows? That didn’t bode well.
“There’s some high-dollar money there, but if I win the season this year, I can take off until Austin, maybe.”
“That’s in what? March? April?” He’d never been there. Austin was expensive, especially now.
“Yeah. Ish. Houston is close to the same time.” Curtis sighed. “I got nowhere to stay if I’m not traveling, really, so maybe it’s a pipe dream.”
He opened his mouth to tell Curtis the man could stay with him, but that was a pipe dream too. Curtis came for Momma, and he had no way to know if Momma’d be here in the spring.
“You ought to buy you a place, huh?”
“That’s your thing, Roper. I never thought I’d live long enough to ponder retirement.”
Stetson wasn’t sure what the fuck to say to that. His thing, like this place, this land, was just another weight around his neck when he would sell his soul to keep it.
“I didn’t mean to piss you off, baby.”
“I ain’t your baby no more,” he snapped. “Fuck, man, I appreciate you coming out, but you don’t have to stay. You made Momma happy. That’s why you came. I promise the grass isn’t going to come up and wrap around your boots, hold you here. It’s the wrong time of the year, and we don’t have enough water for that anyway.”
“Whoa. Whoa, now. What’s got a bee in your bonnet?” Curtis looked confused as all get-out, and didn’t that just piss Stetson off more?
“Why would I be bitchy? I got nothing to bitch about, man. You left, and we both know your happy ass never so much as looked back for me. Not once. You could have…. Anytime. Any fucking time you could have called up and said something, but you didn’t.” His fists clenched up and both horses started tossing their heads, whinnying at the tension in the air.
“Neither did you.”
“What?”
Curtis shrugged, lip curling just enough to make Stetson want to beat the living fuck out of the bastard. “I didn’t see you calling or coming to an event none. I didn’t see you out there looking for me, any more than I looked for you, so quit being a titty-baby and walk it the fuck off.” Curtis wheeled around so they were facing each other. Then one hand landed on the center of his chest, not quite a blow, totally not a caress. “You want to fight, Roper? Bring it on. I’ll let you kick my ass, and you can pretend not to know I allowed it. We fucking broke up. I was a kid with big balls and dreams, and you were fucking scared to walk away from here in case it changed while you weren’t here to watch it. Now you’re a lonely old fuck with a dying momma, and I live in my fucking truck chasing the bright lights and broncs. Suck it up, buttercup, and get the fuck over yourself.”
“Fuck you, Curtis.” Shit, he hadn’t heard Curtis say that many words in a row… ever.
“There are a metric fuckton of goat heads down here, Roper, and I’m too old for that shit.”
God, that slow drawl made him want to smile. “I missed you. I was scared to call. What if you didn’t remember me?” He felt a little as if the question scraped his soul like a wire brush.
Curtis hooted, the sound lonely and sad. “Like I wouldn’t know you in my cups or in my grave. There ain’t a handle made for the knife we sharpened between us.”
No. No, that was true. They hurt each other in the deep places.
“I don’t like to think of you living in your truck, Curtis.”
He got this warm smile that threatened to plant a seed in him.
“And I don’t like to think of you dealing with this all alone, Roper.”
“You’re welcome to stay here through the holidays, you know. I just… I mean, shit, never min
d. Who wants to be here like this?” His cheeks burned with a mixture of rage and want and shame.
They looked at each other for a long, silent minute—hell, it might have been a month that he stood there, lost in Curtis’s eyes, before either the cold or the weight of all their combined bullshit got to them and they turned as a man and got back in the saddle.
“I’d love to stay through Thanksgiving. I don’t have to be anywhere until two days before the Finals.”
“Would you?” The words were out of his mouth before he even thought to yank them back.
“Yeah.” Curtis beamed at him. “Been staying in hotels the last few years. Hell, I’d rather eat at the Golden Corral with you than do that.”
“We probably will. After Momma’s meal there at the hospital.”
“Sounds good.” Curtis nudged Bell close, their legs brushing. “Anything with you does.”
“Yeah. I hear that.” He sighed softly. “It’s getting colder. We got to get back and feed.”
“We should.” The old ghost town was just in sight, the off-kilter mining office roof still intact. Curtis nodded to it. “Remember that weekend we camped there?”
“I do. We damn near froze our balls off.” They’d managed to keep warm, though. More than warm. They’d performed some amazing gymnastics.
“We also found a way to make heat,” Curtis said, echoing his thoughts.
“We did. Although that family of coyotes were sure unhappy about us being there. You remember how they howled?” It had been eerie as fuck for him, and he’d grown up around the critters. Curtis had damn near swallowed his tongue.
“Oh God. I thought we were gonna get eaten.” They’d laughed and laughed the next day.
“You did. Lord, they were so loud.”
They turned back toward the ranch, both chuckling. Lord have mercy, he could remember Curtis running to the door, all naked, chucking firewood at the coyotes, howling like a monkey.
Stetson laughed harder, making Vixen snort and toss her head.
“Don’t you get bucked off, Roper.”
“No. No, it’s been too good a day for that. Thank you for this.”
“You’re welcome.” Curtis grinned at him like this whole thing was perfect. It would be too, if it wasn’t about his mom dying.
