His Reluctant Cowboy

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His Reluctant Cowboy Page 6

by A. D. Ellis


  “That’s because it is fun.” Reid spun the bags around as he twirled down the sidewalk. “Work jeans don’t have to be boring. Shirts can have some pizzazz. Boots can look just as good as they work. And if you’re wearing a hat, you should make it a statement.”

  “Well, I gotta say, I’ve never seen someone make trying on clothes so interesting.” Zeke laughed. “You’ll be the best dressed person on the ranch, that’s for sure.”

  “Might as well feel good and look good while you’re working.” Reid shrugged. “Plus, I’ve got to keep up my reputation. I can’t go around looking sloppy. Even when lounging, one can look fine.”

  They reached the truck and found Walker waiting.

  He whistled. “Damn, did you buy them out?”

  “Almost,” Zeke said.

  “What? They had nice stuff, and it looked good.” Reid shrugged. “Go big or go home, that’s my motto.” He grinned.

  “Any problem using the card I gave you?” Walker helped load the bags into the truck.

  “Nope,” Reid popped the p in the word.

  “That’s because he only used it for like a third of what he bought,” Zeke tattled.

  “What?” Walker frowned. “Why?”

  “I used the card for the items I needed. I used my own money for the items I wanted.” Reid shoved two more bags at Walker. “I’ll give you a fashion show when we get home. Some of these jeans make my ass look completely edible.” He fluttered his lashes.

  Walker groaned and Reid cackled.

  “Tell him.” Reid turned to Zeke.

  Eyes wide, Zeke stuttered, “Tell him what?”

  “That my ass looks amazing in some of the jeans.” Reid folded both arms over his chest.

  Zeke stammered. “I mean, yeah, the jeans fit well if that’s what you mean.”

  “It’s not, but whatever,” Reid quipped. “Let’s get lunch. I’m starving.”

  The small mom-and-pop diner boasted homemade dishes, the best cup of coffee, and pie to die for. When the three men left, their hunger fed and then some, they made their way to the small building that housed the town doctor.

  “I’ve already told them to bill the ranch if there’s anything your insurance doesn’t cover.” Walker stopped in front of the doctor’s office. “I’ve got one more stop to make. I’ll see ya at the truck in a bit. We can pick up any prescriptions Doc gives you and then we’ll head home.”

  The waiting room held one very pregnant woman, an older gentleman, and a man with an icepack on his arm. Reid signed in and took a seat as far from the others as possible. Zeke sat next to him.

  “Can I ask you something?” Zeke’s voice was low.

  “Shoot.” Reid glanced at the kid.

  “Doesn’t it bother you? Being so out and matter-of-fact about being gay?” Zeke whispered, his tone indicating just how incredulous he must be feeling.

  “Not at all.” Reid shook his head.

  “But, like, everyone at the ranch knows you’re gay. How do you deal with that? Don’t you feel like people are always watching you, judging you?” Zeke frowned.

  “Does it bother you that everyone knows you’re straight?” Reid bumped Zeke’s shoulder.

  Zeke screwed up his face. “No, man. Straight is normal.” He air-quoted the word.

  “Well, gay is my normal. I got tired of lying to myself, lying to others. It was exhausting trying to convince myself I’d eventually find the perfect girl and finally feel the way toward her that I already knew I felt toward guys.” Reid turned in his seat and pulled a knee up to his chest.

  A door opened and a nurse emerged. “Mr. Keyes? Come on back.”

  The man with the icepack stood up.

  “How you doing today?” the nurse asked.

  “Been better. Working in the fencerow and something stung me, maybe bit me, don’t know. Swelled up like a melon.” The man followed the nurse through the door.

  Reid shivered. “Ugh, nature. See? That right there is one reason to stay indoors.”

  “Kinda hard to do on a ranch,” Zeke scoffed. “So, your normal is gay…,” he prompted.

  “Huh?” Reid turned his attention back to the kid. “Oh, right, gay is my normal. Gay is me. People are going to judge, no matter what. I’d rather be judged while being true to myself than be judged while hiding who I really am.”

  “What made you finally decide to come out?” Zeke chewed on a nail.

  “Boy, don’t bite your nails. It’s gross and makes them look dreadful.” Reid slapped at Zeke’s hand. “Honestly? I spent a long time thinking about what it would mean to stay quiet, to fit the mold, to be normal, and I realized I just couldn’t do it. Because being forty years-old with three kids, a wife, and a secret just didn’t seem luxurious. It wasn’t how I wanted to live, trapped and hiding. It doesn’t work like that for everyone. One of my best friends at the time came out in junior high like it was no big deal. Another casual friend is still hiding, scared to death to be true to himself and admit he’s gay.”

  “What if someone knows it, like deep down, but just can’t bring themselves to admit it out loud to people?”

  “Each person has to determine what’s best for them.” Reid gave a sad smile. “If this hypothetical person is in danger if he comes out, then keeping the secret is probably best. If he’s just worried what people will think?” Reid shrugged. “One, we all need to remember that people likely aren’t thinking about us nearly as much as we think they are. Two, he needs to imagine living his entire life with his secret, hiding the true him, and evaluate if that’s something he feels he can live with. Three? The best one. You could always let this person know I’m available for Goda services.”

  Zeke wrinkled his nose. “Goda services? What the hell does that mean?” His face went stony. “Not that this is a real person, I mean, like…not that I would even be able to tell him, or her…this, I’m just saying what if…”

  “Right, right,” Reid nodded. “I mean, if this person was real, and if they were dealing with big realizations and decisions, you could let them know I’m the perfect Goda. That’s gay Yoda. The Force is strong in this one,” Reid pointed at his chest, “and I can guide a new gaybie. Be their support, their wise one, their sage.”

  Zeke laughed out loud and quickly covered his mouth. “Oh my God. You are such a dork.”

  “I’m just saying. You could let this person know I’m available to help.”

  “Reid?” a different nurse opened the door.

  Reid stood.

  “You won’t even be here that long,” Zeke grumbled.

  “I’ll be here for a while.” He waved his phone in the air. “And we’ve got great technology for keeping in touch these days.” Reid winked and turned to greet the nurse.

  “Hi, Reid Alexander. I’m Doctor Phips.” A black woman who immediately reminded Reid of the quintessential grandmother bustled through the door and offered him a hand to shake.

  “Hi,” Reid replied and shook her hand.

  “Well, first, it’s great to have you here. I hear you’ll be at Pine Ridge for a while?” Dr. Phips flipped through the papers in Reid’s folder.

  “Yes, three months.”

  “Only three months?” Dr. Phips looked up. “That seems a shame. Hardly enough time to really learn to love it here.”

  “Three months is the minimum.” Reid shifted in his chair.

  “Well, whatever brought you here, whatever you decide to do, keep your mind and your heart open. I think ranch living is good for a person’s soul, and the good lord knows you could be good for that ranch.” She placed the folder on the counter before washing her hands.

  “Not sure how a gay city boy can be good for a ranch,” Reid scoffed.

  “You hush. I can already tell you’ve got a great deal to offer. Maybe not so much to the physical ranch, but to the people. You just be you, the rest will happen if it’s meant to be.” Dr. Phips dried her hands and pulled on some gloves.

  “That sounds a bit like a fake fortu
ne teller gazing into a crystal ball.” Reid chuckled.

  “Just take my word. I see great things happening. And, seeing as I’m a doctor and all, you should trust me.” Dr. Phips put the stethoscope in her ears and effectively shut down the conversation by asking Reid to take deep breaths.

  Several minutes later, after a thorough exam of his ears, nose, throat, lymph nodes, and lungs, Dr. Phips scribbled notes on Reid’s chart before pulling out a prescription pad. “Allergies is my diagnosis. You’ll likely get used to most of the things here. Since you stated you’ve never had allergy problems before, I’m guessing your body is reacting and adjusting to new air, plants, and all the animals.” She scribbled on the note pad. “I’ll give you two medications. This one, take daily at least until we get a couple good hard freezes. The other one, take if you’re having a reaction. Neither should make you super drowsy, but I’d take the daily one at night. Be sure to always shower before bed, making sure to wash your hair so you don’t bring allergens to bed.”

  Reid took both slips of paper. “Sounds good. Thanks.”

  “You come back if anything is bothering you, understand?” Dr. Phips placed hands on her hips. “Medical/physical stuff, emotional things, social issues, I’m here for all of it.”

  Reid smiled. “That’s good to know.” He walked toward the door. “I think I like you. You’re a lot nicer and friendlier than any of the doctors I’ve ever had.”

  “Well, I know I like you.” Dr. Phips patted his shoulder. “I think you may just be the answer to some unspoken prayers around these parts.”

  “I think I’m going to start calling you Dr. Fortune. You’re sort of creepy with all that, ya know?” Reid pretended to shiver. “And I’m not the answer to anything, especially prayers, unless the question is, ‘Who is the most attractive and stylish gay rancher of them all?’”

  Dr. Phips threw her head back and laughed. “You are something else. But don’t go thinking you’ve got that title all wrapped up and won.”

  Reid frowned. Who else would wear that title?

  “Now go on, I’ve got more patients. The world doesn’t revolve around you.” She shoved him toward the door.

  Reid gasped and held a hand to his heart. “What?! Well, I never!”

  They both laughed as they walked toward the front.

  “Head on up to the front desk. They’ll take care of you there.” Dr. Phips stopped and held out a hand. “It was an absolute pleasure.” She turned and gathered a folder from the wall at another door before knocking.

  Reid smiled and shook his head. Doc Phips certainly was a character.

  After settling at the desk, Reid walked out to find Zeke resting his head back against the wall behind his chair. “Ready?”

  Zeke jerked his head up. “Huh?” He glanced around. “Oh, yeah, didn’t think you’d get done so soon.”

  “Dude, I was in there over forty minutes. Did you fall asleep?” Reid laughed as they headed out the door.

  “No, just thinking,” Zeke answered. “Lots of fucking thinking.”

  Reid smiled at the back of Zeke’s head as the kid beelined to the truck.

  “You and me both kid,” Reid muttered. “But I’m guessing our thoughts are on completely different things.”

  9

  After dinner and the evening chores, Norma insisted that Reid show off his new clothes.

  “I’m gonna work in the office,” Walker snapped.

  “No. You’re not.” Norma pressed on his shoulder and pushed him onto the couch. “You’re going to sit here and enjoy the fashion show.”

  Reid smiled broadly. “First outfit, coming right up.” He twirled and headed toward his room with the five-pack following him.

  “Walker Corrigan, if we want him to stay, you can’t be rude.” Norma stood with her hands on hips.

  “Who says we want him to stay?” Walker groused.

  Norma simply stared at him.

  “Fine, it’s been nice having him here.” Walker rolled his eyes. “But you need to get your mind off matchmaking. He’s too young, he’s not my type, and you know I can’t go through that. Losing Sam was too hard, and I’m not interested in that type of pain again.”

  “Losing Samuel was terrible and I know it hurt.” Norma sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “But you are young, you have so much love in your heart, and I want you to be happy.”

  “I am happy.” Walker sighed. “I have friends and the ranch. My heart still hurts, but I have no plans of leaving it unprotected again.”

  “Sweetheart, I see the way your eyes watch Reid. Opening your heart, moving on, letting yourself love again, none of that would mean letting go of Samuel.” She hugged him close. “Just maybe don’t refuse the feelings, okay?”

  “He’s leaving. He doesn’t even know I’m gay. He’s clearly not interested. It’s best to let things be.” Walker rolled his neck. “Once he leaves, we can all get back to normal.”

  Reid’s door opened, and the five dogs scrambled to the living room. Reid sauntered across the room, making a dramatic turn before walking back to the center.

  “So, this is more of a dress-up type outfit. Maybe for a party or dance. Or maybe a meeting?”

  He modeled deep red and black boots, dark wash jeans that clung to his legs, and a charcoal button-up under a deep red-fitted satin jacket with a thin black scarf tied loosely around his neck.

  Oh, shit. Do not think about what you could do with that scarf. Walker cleared his throat. “That’s nice. Not sure you’ll have much occasion to wear it here, but back in California it will be great. Didn’t even know they had those types of clothes in town.”

  “It’s all in how you put individual pieces together,” Reid quipped before turning back to his room. “I won’t show you every outfit, but number two is coming soon.”

  The dogs perked up and ran to follow him down the hall.

  “Nice, huh?” Norma nudged Walker.

  “Never said he didn’t look good. That’s not the issue,” Walker gritted out.

  Reid returned a few minutes later, dog pack in tow, in work boots, light washed jeans that fit him like a glove and looked like he’d been wearing them for years, and a muted plaid button-up with subtle western designs. “This is more for working.” He did a complete one-eighty.

  “Did you get a hat?” Walker demanded. “I specifically said you need a hat.”

  Reid pursed his lips. “Patience, cowboy.” He blew a kiss to Norma and returned to his room.

  The dogs followed, slower this time.

  “Why you gotta snap at the boy?” Norma demanded.

  “I sent him for sensible, functional clothing, and he comes back looking like he’s ready to walk the damn red carpet.” Walker folded both arms over his chest.

  “Maybe you’re just grumpy about how good he looks, and how much he’s messing with that heart of yours,” Norma whispered as Reid exited his room.

  The dogs, panting, curled up on the rug.

  “Another work outfit.” Reid spun around. “These are the jeans I like best. They make my ass look fabulous.”

  Walker coughed. Hell yeah, they do.

  “Okay, last outfit coming up.” Reid waved.

  The dogs lifted their heads, but immediately returned to sleeping.

  “This next one better have a practical hat,” Walker grumbled.

  Reid returned wearing cuffed denim shorts, unlaced work boots flopping, a plain white t-shirt covered with a royal blue button up left unbuttoned, and a cowboy hat.

  “That’s the hat you picked?” Walker demanded.

  “Yep,” Reid popped his p. “Got this one, too.” He switched the purposely distressed cowboy hat with a worn baseball-style cap. “Always good to have choices.”

  “That cowboy hat is more fashionable than functional. With the edges curled up like that, it’s not going to protect you from the sun.” Walker stood. “And the shorts are impractical. Your legs will get shredded by fence wire, bugs, grasses, and burned by t
he sun.”

  Reid, obviously nonplussed, shrugged. “Yeah, but think how great they’ll look on a dance floor.”

  “Whatever.” Walker rolled his eyes. “I’m going to go through Jack’s old hats. You need one that does what it’s meant to do.”

  Norma sighed as Walker left the room, but not before he overheard Norma talking to Reid.

  “Sorry, he’s grumpy.” She patted Reid’s shoulder. “Fashion isn’t his forte. I think you looked gorgeous. Loved all the clothes.”

  “Thanks.” Reid smiled.

  The next morning at breakfast, Walker entered the kitchen and tossed a large box on the counter. “Found this when I went through Jack’s stuff. Didn’t notice it before, thought it was just another hat. He must have set it aside, hoping you’d show up some day.”

  The box had Jackson Reid Alexander written on a sticky note and taped to the lid.

  Reid brushed the dust from the top but stalled on his name. “What is it?”

  “Open it,” Walker commanded. “We gotta get out there, and get some work done. Hurry up.”

  Reid frowned, but opened the box. He gasped as he removed a charcoal gray felt cattleman style hat. A note fluttered from the brim.

  Jackson, I hope one day you’ll be here to work alongside me. You’ll need a hat. If you’re not here before I’m gone, I still dream of seeing you on our ranch, loving it as much as I do. Wear this hat with pride, and know that I loved you even if we were never allowed to meet. Love, Grandpa Jack

  “Oh, wow,” Reid breathed as he slipped the hat onto his head.

  “That’s perfect,” Norma exclaimed and clasped her hands to her chest.

  “Much better.” Walker nodded.

  Reid took off the hat, running a hand through his hair, and then he turned the hat over and around in his hands. He smiled before hanging the hat on the back of the chair as Walker had done with his.

  Breakfast was quick and quiet before they headed out the door for a full day of work.

  Two weeks later, Reid found Walker in the barn office.

 

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