The contestants rode in reverse order in the final round which meant Cody went next to last, so we didn't need to hurry in the morning, which was a damn good thing cause I was slightly hung over and exhausted from a long weekend of late nights, too much booze, hot sex with large cowboys, and everything else we'd been up to.
We met up with Levi as we found our seats and he sat with us for a while. He was still the irrepressible character we'd met the first day, and we had a good time as he pointed out little insider things about the contestants, their horses, and the event in general. He'd rodeoed most of his life and knew something about everything and everyone.
Five days of competition was taking its toll on man and horse and most guys didn't do as well as they had the first couple days, letting steers by or having trouble getting them cut from the herd in the first place. By the time Cody came into the arena, it was down to him and the guy who would ride last.
Cody's first steer was a dud, so he let it go early and picked another who was tough to cut, but worked really well, giving Queenie a serious workout. He had time for a quick run at another steer before the buzzer sounded, and we all crossed our fingers that it had been enough.
The final rider was a guy from back east somewhere. Levi spat into the aisle in disgust.
"Oughta have to be from west of the Rockies, at least," he growled.
Apparently, they knew how to cut cattle just fine east of the Rockies because this guy rode his chestnut stallion well. He had us worried until his horse zigged when he should have zagged, the steer ducked around, and it was over. He knew it, backing his horse off, and tipping his hat to Cody when the announcer called him into the arena to accept the big trophy and an even bigger check.
We were going crazy in the stands, whooping and hollering as Cody grinned like a fool, patting Queenie while he circled the arena in a victory lap. Winning the cutting horse World Finals was no small feat, so Cody had every right to be proud. Wade pushed his way down to the front row, and Cody stopped for a hug, almost pulling Wade over the rail when Queenie wanted to keep going.
We watched the trophy presentation, and then hurried to the barn to celebrate, swarming over Cody and Queenie with kisses and carrots. Adam and I unsaddled Queenie, got her washed off, blanketed, and fed, then joined the party. Katie and her folks were excited to be stabled next to the World Champion and helped us celebrate, as did Del and Levi.
Katie gave Matt a hug and kiss on the cheek, which he returned a little shyly, but willingly enough. It gave me an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach to see him with a girl, his hands on her small back as he bent to her. He'd said she was going to tell her parents we were all gay, but if she had, they were cool with it because I detected no difference in their behavior toward us.
The whole crowd of us went out to dinner. When the owner of the restaurant discovered he had the newly-crowned World Cutting Horse Champion, the AGA Grand Prix winner, and the runner-up guzzling down beers in his bar while waiting for a table, he opened the private back room for us, and said everything was on the house as long as he could send in a photographer. We didn't give a damn, so the entire event was nicely documented on film, including the part where Cody made a speech while standing on the table, his dusty boots planted firmly around a platter of nachos. That photo didn't make it in to the next day's newspaper, but a couple others did.
We quieted down a little when the food arrived. Levi disappeared for a few minutes and came back toting a guitar he'd borrowed from the band that was going to play later. He pulled a chair back a bit from the table and proceeded to treat us to one lovely western melody after another. His voice was sort of Willie Nelson-ish, gravelly like his speaking voice, but strong and true. We all fell silent as he sang a cowboy favorite.
Cowboys are special, with their own brand of misery from being alone too long. You could die from the cold in the arms of a nightmare, knowing well that your best days are gone. Picking up hookers instead of my pen, I let the words of my youth fade away. Old worn out saddles and old worn out memories, but no one and no place to stay.
My heroes have always been cowboys, and they still are, it seems. Sadly in search of and one step in back of themselves and their slow-moving dreams.
It was a great time, and we swapped phone numbers with Jack and Paula at the end of the night. They were thinking of relocating, and promised to visit Stonegate soon. Katie was dying to see it and wanted to fly home with us, but all the adults vetoed that, and Matt looked relieved.
As we walked back to the hotel, TJ and Del fell back a little, and I figured they were both in for a treat when they got each other in bed. I knew Adam and TJ were sharing a room and wondered what Adam was going to do with himself, but that question was answered when Adam stayed in the elevator with us as his floor came and went. He smiled a silent goodnight at me, and followed Matt into his room. I stared at the closed door until Vincent grabbed me by the arm and shoved me into our room.
Thank God the walls were fairly soundproof because I damn sure didn't want to lay there listening to Adam and Matt whooping it up next door. Vincent distracted me anyway by stripping me naked and molesting me in the shower, something I always enjoy. All that steamy water splashing down as I add my own splashes is too much fun. Afterward we snuggled up in bed with the TV on low, and talked for a while.
"Aside from the mind-blowing sex, how did you feel about us being with Del?" Vincent's voice was low and soft behind my ear as I leaned against him.
"It was fun. Not something I'd want to do often, but as a special occasion type of thing, it was great. It didn't bother me that we didn't know him. I thought it might because I didn't know if I'd be relaxed enough with a stranger to enjoy it, but that wasn't a problem. In fact, it was kind of liberating since I figured I'd never see him again. And it wasn't weird when I saw him the next day at the auction." I stopped and thought for a minute. "So . . . for me anyway, I think it really depends on who it is as to whether or not I'd want to do it again."
Vincent was nodding as I spoke. "Yeah, I know what you mean. He'd been eyeing us from the bar for a while before I went to piss, and when I saw him up close, I thought you'd like him. I know you get a kick out of Wade's muscles, but the dimple is what did it for me."
I chuckled. "I loved the dimple, too. I kept wanting to poke my tongue in it."
He wrapped me up close as we drifted off to sleep. It had certainly been a different sort of weekend, but I'd be happy to get back home.
I think Vincent and I were the only couple who didn't have sex that night.
Cody and Wade were late for breakfast, and when they did show up, they sat at a table on the other side of the room and stared into each other's eyes as they nibbled on fruit and muffins.
TJ wandered in with a dreamy look on his face, and when I
asked how he'd slept, he replied, "Del."
"Excuse me?"
"What?"
"I asked how you slept."
"Oh. Well. I slept well, thanks," he mumbled, and wandered off for orange juice.
Matt came in without Adam, who joined us about ten minutes later, kissing the top of Matt's head as he went by to the buffet. He sat next to Matt, and they ate off each other's plates like newlyweds. I stared at them for a minute, but they were oblivious.
I slid my eyes to Vincent, but he refused to meet my gaze and got up for more toast. I gave up, sighed heavily, and finished my breakfast. Matt's relationship with Adam was a good thing. It was just vaguely uncomfortable to watch it develop right in front of my face. And I had begun to wonder whether Adam was as interested as I'd first thought, considering his fling with Cody and Wade. Matt hadn't discussed any of it with me, but he didn't seem unhappy with the current state of things, so I left it alone for the time being.
Our flight home was quiet. Wade had opted to share the drive with Cody, so Adam was on the jet with us, sacked out on the couch with Matt under his arm. Vincent was chatting with Jesse and Ben, so I joined TJ in the seats just behind the cockpit, leaned mine back all the way, and promptly fell asleep.
Gabriel met us at the airport with the big Stonegate van, and ferried us all home. Jesse had parked his truck at my place, and he and Ben left for home as soon as we got there. Gabriel and TJ came in for a few minutes because I wanted a brief run down of what had happened around the barn while I was gone. Gabriel's list went like this:
-
Calvin kicked a bucket clear across the yard when he was startled by Kukla's heehaw, narrowly missing Madeline's brand new Mercedes, but ruining a wheelbarrow it hit.
-
Teresa broke her wrist falling out of the horse van when the sun got in her eyes and she thought she had one more step to go. She'd be in a cast for three weeks, but was working one-handed.
I stopped him at this point, asking if anything good had happened, or if this was going to be a disaster recitation. He laughed, and said he was saving the good stuff for last. As he talked, TJ watched him, running his eyes over Gabriel's face, and grinning when he laughed.
-
A check for $17,254 had finally arrived from a delinquent client who had departed in a huff a few months ago. I had turned him over to Jesse. It wasn't really his line of work, but he had apparently convinced the guy to pay.
-
The earth moving at the new show grounds was finished, and work had begun on the buildings. It looked like we'd be ready for an April debut.
-
Gabriel had noticed that Fran the donkey was getting fat, so he had Sam check her over before he cut her feed. Fran and Kukla had apparently been up to no good before we got them, and Fran was due to foal in about two months. Great more donkeys. I made a mental note to tell Sam to castrate both Kukla and Ollie pronto.
After Gabriel and TJ left, I wandered around the house for a while. It felt great to be home, but it was so quiet after the non-stop activity of the past five days that I didn't know what to do with myself. Matt went off to his room to download all the pictures he'd taken, and Vincent ran over to the restaurant to check up on things. I told him to bring home dinner, and then went into the den and fell asleep on the couch.
It was a peaceful evening, something we all needed if we were going to be even remotely productive tomorrow. Vincent came home with an assortment of pastas and a big salad, which we ate in front of the TV in the den while watching the slide show that Matt had put together from his photos. I hadn't realized how many he'd taken as shot after shot rolled across the screen.
The one of Katie hugging Queenie was beautiful. Her arms were around Queenie's neck with Queenie's big old head draped over her shoulder, eyes closed, lower lip drooping the picture of equine contentment. They were standing in shaft of sunlight in the barn, dust motes forever frozen in a faint haze around them. Matt had given the photo a sepia wash so that all the colors were dulled, and you focused instead on the girl and the horse.
Vincent poked me with his foot at the one of me staring at Del with a rapt expression on my face and my mouth hanging open. I looked like an infatuated teenager, and it made me blush even as it chubbed up my dick a little, thinking back to what had followed that meeting.
Cody hugging his trophy while Wade hugged him was wonderful. Cody was looking at the camera, wrinkles fanning out from the corners of his eyes as he grinned his delight. Wade's forehead was pressed into the curve of Cody's neck, and you could just see the corner of his smile because the big mound of his shoulder blocked the rest of the view. Matt said he was going to print a large one to have framed for them.
Matt caught Levi with his head thrown back in a big laugh, and it made you chuckle just to look at him. Levi was an interesting guy, and I'd grown fond of him as the weekend had gone on. He'd promised to visit the next time he had an event nearby -- said he wanted to see my `sissy horse farm'. I'd put him on Calvin over a six- foot fence and show him 'sissy.'
The one Matt took of Queenie in full tilt boogie on a steer gave you a real feel for the action of the cutting pen, and I requested one of those for my office at Stonegate. Her ears were pinned flat along her stretched-out neck, Cody's hat was yanked tight down on his head, the steer had just kicked up a fountain of dirt clods that were caught in midair, and you could practically smell all three of them.
A few days after the World Finals, Amanda and I were in my office discussing the Foundation and whether or not she would campaign a horse on the Gran Prix circuit next season, when Adam walked in.
After greeting us, he got to the point. "I'm not going to compete next year." That certainly got our attention. "I was thinking with the way you're expanding everything around here, and with the GP title under my belt, I'd like to start a high level training center." He paused before making his real pitch. "Considering the set-up you're working toward, I'd like to do it here at Stonegate. Whaddaya think?"
"Ya know, you'd be fuckin' good at it!" Amanda exclaimed.
Her language always gave me a chuckle. "I like the idea, Adam, and I agree with Amanda -- it'd be a good business addition to the farm too." I was all for it. Having Adam around was a pleasure, and I knew Matt would miss him terribly if he was gone competing for months at a time.
"Until I've got a few clients on board, I'll work with those two young horses I bought from Maddie. They show a lot of promise and I think they could become good competition stock."
"How about using Calvin as a school horse? You know how to handle him as well as I do, and he sure would impress potential clients. I'll lease him to you."
"Hey, if those two horses turn out anywhere near as good as Calvin, I'd be interested in ownin' them," Amanda offered.
That brought a smile to Adam's face and our deal was sealed.
Adam continued to come by the house for dinner a couple times a week, and took Matt out occasionally, but I couldn't see a whole lot of progress in their relationship since Amarillo. Matt also went out with TJ and Vincent's cousin Eddie now and then. I wasn't sure if he was sleeping with either of them, but he seemed happy enough so I tried not to think about it.
A few days after that, Gabriel pulled into the yard with the back of his truck full of furniture and garbage bags. He was moving slowly as he parked and got out, stretching his arms over his head before looking around. He came straight over to me. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
As we walked to my office, I noticed he was grimy and looked exhausted. "What the hell happened?"
"My goddamn apartment building burned down early this morning. It started about 2am, and I had thirty minutes to get stuff out before it got too hot. I got most of my clothes and personal stuff, and a few pieces of furniture." He heaved a big sigh. "Just when I was getting back on my fuckin' feet."
I looked him over, taking in the sandy hair raked back from his forehead with a sweaty hand, and the dark hazel eyes, now smudged with fatigue. He'd been a model employee, taking on more than his share of the load, and showing a real aptitude for working with the Foundation horses (and donkeys) that TJ kept bringing home. He looked really depressed, standing there with his hands on his hips, staring dejectedly at the floor.
"Stay here a sec." I walked outside to dial TJ's cell. "Hey. Whaddaya think about a roommate?"
"Who?"
"Gabriel. His apartment building caught fire. He's upset and tired, and needs a place to call home for a while. You guys seem like you get along okay around here."
There was silence for a moment. "Sure, there's plenty of room and I'd enjoy the company."
I walked back inside. "You know the house west of here, out by the road where TJ's living now?" He nodded. "Head on over there and get settled in. Take a shower and a nap, and come back after lunch."
He stared at the floor before glancing up at me. "How long can I stay there?"
"Long as you need to. If it works out, you can stay permanently. It'd be handy to have you close by."
"What's the rent?"
"No rent, but you're on call 24/7 with every other weekend off. That's not as bad as it sounds since Tommy and Alejandro are here most of the time."
He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my face. I let him look, meeting his gaze calmly until he finally spoke. "Why you doin' this?"
I shrugged. "Why not? You're a decent guy, and you're doing real well here. The fire wasn't your fault, and it looks to me like you could use a break."
He absorbed all that, looked back down at the floor for a moment, then walked over and surprised the shit out of me with a big hug. It took me a split second, but I hugged him back, giving him an extra squeeze before letting him go. I took a key off the rack by the door, handed it to him, and he left without another word. I watched him walk to his truck, pleased to see that his shoulders had squared up a little and his step wasn't dragging as badly as when he'd arrived.
I was riding Cal in the arena around 2pm when he came in on Barney. I gave him a smile and a wink when he tipped his chin at me. He rode pretty well, moving easily with the horse, never asking too much, just bringing him along. Barney had stayed sound so far, no sign of a limp from his bowed tendon, and we were working him a couple hours a day on the flat, either in the arena or out on trail. Once we got him back in condition, we'd see if he could still jump well enough to be a school horse, or maybe a junior hunter for one of the owners' kids.
About a week later, TJ found me in the tack room
and came in, closing the door so we could have
some privacy. He looked pretty serious, so I
sat down to hear what he had to say.
"What can you tell me about Gabriel?"
"He's a great employee, good with both horses
and people."
"I mean personally. What was he in prison for?"
I looked at TJ more closely, recognizing his expression. "Something happening between you two?"
"Not yet, but maybe. Before I get something going, I wanted to make sure you don't have a problem with it since we're both working for you now."
"Jesus, I'd be out of business if I had a rule against employee relationships. We've already got Tommy and Alejandro, and Teresa and Sam, and probably a couple stable boys I don't know about. Knock yourself out. You sure he's gay?"
"Yeah, pretty sure. We talked about it a little when he came to help me with the donkeys, and he's friendly at the house. Not grabbing me, but not backing off when we get close in the kitchen or something. And he gives great shoulder rubs."
TJ walked over and looked out the window, fiddling with the latch as he spoke. I watched him, thinking that I'd miss him if he settled down and didn't want to play around anymore. Then I scolded myself for being so damned self centered, and hoped that it worked out however TJ wanted it to.
"Huh . . . Well, good luck. Let me know how it goes."
"I'll do that. Thanks."
He went back to work and I sat there for a while longer, staring at the wall, the bridle I'd been adjusting lying forgotten across my knee. Vincent and I seemed to be the only constant any more. Dylan and Adam were done. Adam seemed to like Matt, but hadn't really pursued it much past having dinner with us a couple times a week. Cody and Wade were back on track it seemed, but now TJ had the hots for an ex-con. Life was just too strange sometimes.
Matt's preliminary sketches for Amanda had so far resulted in a charcoal portrait of the dogs playing in the barn aisle, tugging on either end of a rope. She was thrilled with it, and when she showed it off to her horsey pals, Matt got three more calls with offers of work. He was very organized about it, keeping his contacts in a small leather notebook. Amanda paid him $200 for the charcoal of the dogs which I thought was fair since it wasn't even a piece she'd asked for, just something she saw in his sketch book and had to have.
He bought some larger paper and an easel, and got ready to do some real work. He'd become very fond of David, his artistic mentor, and brought him and Bonnie home for dinner most Wednesdays. We learned that David's partner had died several years before from a heart condition and that they'd been together nineteen years. He seemed content with his dog and his cabin in the woods, but more than once, I caught him watching Vincent and me with a wistful smile.
One evening David was helping me clean up after dinner, humming along with the Vince Gill CD Matt had put on the stereo. Every now and then, he'd sing a line or two in a soft, clear voice. I glanced at him a few times, but he was drying dishes and tapping his foot, lost in his own thoughts.
When the song was over, I patted him on the back as I walked by to the fridge. "Nice voice."
He smiled a little and shook his head. "Sorry. You should've kicked me or something."
"No, I'm serious. I always wished I could carry a tune. Vincent won't even let me sing in the shower."
He chuckled. "Well, thanks. Bonnie doesn't howl at me, at least. I play music almost all the time at home and sing along a lot."
Bonnie looked up when he mentioned her name, her tail thumping softly on the tile. When he leaned down to give her a scratch, she closed her eyes blissfully and the tail thumps shifted into second gear. Learning more about him had made me wonder what my life would be like if Vincent died before me. David gave me hope that I could carry on and have a decent existence without a partner. Lonely, maybe, but still good. He glanced up at me and must have seen something in my face.
"Sean, I . . . I appreciate the dinner invitations, and I just wanted to say that you and Vincent did a really good thing with Matt."
I stepped closer to him and looked into his face for a moment before putting my arms around him. He hugged me loosely at first, then more intensely for a few seconds, and I wondered when he'd last been held by another man. Too long, I'd bet.
By early March, Matt had completed his portrait of Amanda with her hounds, and showed it to me before driving it to her house. In it, she was sitting in the grass laughing, leaning back on her hands with one dog in her lap and the other on his back next to her leg. She had her cowboy hat on, and a soft curve of breast was visible in the V of her denim shirt. He'd done it in pastels, which lent it a dreamy quality, and it was simply lovely. It captured Amanda's personality and I knew she was going to flip when she saw it.
I invited myself along, enjoying the drive out to her place at the north edge of the county. She'd built a sprawling ranch house that managed to be comfortable despite the ridiculous amount of money she'd spent on it. She answered the door in faded jeans, a man's white shirt, and bare feet, hugging Matt and me warmly. We went to her library, a dark masculine room that suited her no-nonsense approach to life, where she flopped down on a couch and waved us into chairs.
Matt put the portrait in a chair opposite Amanda, and nervously unveiled it. Having seen it already, I watched Amanda's face as it went from a smile of anticipation to a stunned realization of what Matt had created for her. One hand rose slowly to lie against her chest, and her mouth fell open slightly as she rose to come forward for a closer look.
"Dear God in heaven," she breathed, turning to Matt. "I cannot fucking believe how perfect this is. It's exactly what I wanted without even knowing it. It looks like how I feel - alive and happy and beautiful."
Matt turned eight shades of red when she grabbed his face in both hands and planted a big wet kiss on his mouth. It seemed to be his year for getting kissed by women. She kissed me, too, just for the hell of it I guess, since I had nothing to do with the portrait, and then went back to admire it. After she had inspected it carefully, she pulled her checkbook out of her purse and looked at Matt.
"What do I owe you?"
Matt turned to me with a 'oh, fuck' look on his face, so I spoke up.
"Why don't you pay him what you feel it's worth to you, since he doesn't have any past sales on which to base a fair price."
She tilted her head to the side and chewed on her bottom lip as she eyed Matt for a moment, then began to write. She ripped the check off with a flourish and held it out to him. He shoved it into his pocket without a glance, thanked her, and we made our exit.
We were back in our own driveway before Matt pulled the check out and unfolded it. He made a choking sound, and mutely handed it to me. She'd paid a thousand dollars for an 11x17 pastel chalk drawing by an unknown, eighteen- year-old artist. I smiled at him.
"Not bad."
He still couldn't speak, so I just handed him back the check and went in the house. He trailed in a while later with a thoughtful look on his face. At dinner, he shoved his spaghetti around on his plate so much that it began to make me ill. I finally took it away from him and replaced it with a salad and a roll, which he proceeded to tear into little bits.
"Something on your mind, Matt?"
He jumped and glanced at me, then looked away across the kitchen. "Do you think I could be a real artist? I mean, make a living at it?"
"Do you think you'd like to do that?"
"Yeah. It's the one thing I've always loved to do. I get sort of lost in it, you know? Like the world could end, and I wouldn't care as long as I could keep drawing. I love it," he stated again.
"Well, you're very talented, and it wouldn't surprise me if you could make it a career, especially with customers like Amanda. Have you contacted the other people who called you? Her friends?"
He nodded. "I told them I needed to get this first one finished, and then I'd be in touch."
"Why don't you do a couple more, and see how it goes. You didn't feel pressured drawing what someone else requested instead of whatever you wanted?"
"No, I actually liked that aspect of it - knowing that what I was doing would please someone."
Over the next couple of days, he visited two of Amanda's society pals, and booked jobs with them. One wanted a picture of her daughter on her pony, and the other asked for `just a nice horse picture,' and didn't really care exactly what it looked like. Matt worked on them during daylight hours, and studied in the evenings, pounding the books so that he could take the GED exams as soon as possible.
Dylan's birthday was March 12th. He'd called me a couple times since our aborted dinner in January and we'd had lunch once or twice, but something was different between us and I began to realize that our earlier relationship was over. My childhood pal and teenage lover had become a bit of a stranger. He hugged me when we met for lunch, but I felt the distance in him. I made a few attempts to get him to talk about it, but he kept the conversation light and I finally gave up. When we said goodbye I kissed him, saying, "You know I'll always love you, right?"
He looked at me then, smiling a little. "I love you, too, Sean. I don't know what's the matter with me lately. I just feel like I need to get away from here and do something different."
I nodded slowly, although I didn't really understand what he was looking for. I made him promise to keep in touch, and we went our separate ways. It bothered me that he wouldn't confide in me, but I realized there wasn't much I could do about it. Dylan was an adult with a life of his own, in which I apparently no longer played much of a part.
That saddened me, and by the time I got home that night I was depressed and moping. Vincent let me wallow in it for a while, then took me up to the shower and pried the story out of me while he scrubbed my back.
He was silent for a few minutes after I finished. "It's not gonna happen," he said to my left hip as he squatted to scrub my leg.
I looked down to see him staring up at me. "What's not gonna happen?"
"Nothing like that's gonna happen to you and me. It's not even a possibility. For that to happen, one person has to give up on the relationship, and that's just not gonna happen, is it, Sean?" he asked me with an intent look.
I shook my head 'no' as he hugged me to him and turned the water off. We stood there in the steamy shower stall, silent now except for our breathing and the drip-drip-drip of water off our bodies. Vincent was right - it wasn't going to happen to us.