by Andrew Grey
“I’ll see what’s going on. You do what you need to.” Zeke kissed him again and then hurried out of the barn.
There was no more yelling, so Robert figured the coast was clear and went back to work with the horses. He and Samson needed some time together, and he wanted to exercise Midnight. He figured he could do that on the back side of the barn, away from the road, and anyone going by wouldn’t notice him. The quiet returned, and Robert hoped it would stay that way.
Chapter 8
“I’M SORRY, but Avery isn’t available,” Zeke explained as yet another car pulled to a stop outside the ranch. His dad had strung a chain over the entrance to keep people from just pulling in. This was at least the twentieth time he’d said that today.
“We just wanted to say hello,” the woman said in a slightly whiny voice.
Zeke leaned close to the car and lowered his voice. He’d used this tone with nearly all of them, and it worked every time. “He’s actually working right now, trying to write some new songs, and he needs quiet and to be left alone. So, you know that new album you’re waiting for? Well, that’s what he’s working on. I can’t wait for it either, so I’m letting him work.” Zeke straightened up and patted the car gently.
The women smiled and pulled away.
Zeke checked up and down the road before walking back to the house. Two days of this and it was getting old, but otherwise the ranch was business as usual. He was still trying to figure out how to get out from under the debt his father had incurred. At least Zeke had been able to determine what his father had done with the money, and he couldn’t blame him too much. Purchasing an available plot of land and adding head to the herd sounded good. The problem was, the land he’d purchased wasn’t producing revenue, so it was doing nothing to help pay back the loan. It seemed that was going to be up to Zeke.
“You going to practice?” Robert asked as he passed him coming out of the barn.
“Yeah.” Zeke strode toward the back shed. He pulled open the door and stepped inside, turning on the lights. He was about to pull the door closed when Robert joined him with his guitar. “What are you doing?”
“I want to see if I can capture some of the music you make on the bulls.” Robert seemed so earnest that Zeke simply shook his head and let him come on in.
“While you’re doing that, you can operate the machine.” Zeke limbered up and then explained to Robert how the controls worked. “I want to start at medium and work up so I can work on my rhythm.”
“You got it,” Robert told him and sat at the controls.
Zeke climbed on and nodded, and Robert started the bull. Zeke stayed on the lower setting, moving with it, understanding the rhythm. When he fell off, he had Robert bump up the machine and he went at it tooth and nail. “Yeah!” he called as he rode, and Robert picked up the cry, whooping his enthusiasm.
“Ride that bastard!”
It wasn’t until Zeke landed on the pads that he realized Robert hadn’t taken his eyes off him.
“Don’t let go.” Robert picked up his guitar. “It doesn’t matter how hard it gets, just don’t let go.” He strummed chords on the guitar. “Life on the road is lonely and hard….” Robert paused, continuing to strum. “Ain’t no rest for the weary….” He stopped and looked up. “Sorry. Sometimes I sink into a song and—”
“It’s okay.” Zeke climbed back on the bull, and Robert set the guitar aside and gave him another ride. Over and over again Zeke rode, until he was exhausted and got up for the last time. Sweat beaded all over him, and he found a rag to wipe it away. “Did you get what you wanted?”
“I don’t know. But watching you was sure inspirational.” Robert grinned lasciviously, and Zeke walked over to him, but Robert’s phone rang before Zeke reached him. Zeke really hated that thing. Robert peered at it and rolled his eyes, which meant he had to take the call.
“Barry, what’s up now?” he asked, and Zeke did his best to tune out the call to give Robert some privacy as he cleaned off the machine and straightened the area. “You have got to be kidding me!”
Zeke whirled around. Robert had turned white.
“What the hell are we supposed to do, and what do they think is going to happen when they get here?” His hand shook, and Zeke sat down next to him. “I can’t do that to them. What’s your plan?” Robert breathed raggedly. “All right. I’ll leave this up to you. But you had better be right about this shit.” He hung up and nearly dropped the phone.
“What’s going on?”
“Apparently there is something up on the internet that I’m giving a concert for the fans… or something… here at the ranch in two days. According to the posts, people are going to show up from all over. It’s like fucking Woodstock or something.”
“Oh God. What are we going to do?” Zeke went white himself.
“Barry has contacted the media and put out a statement saying that there is no concert and that the whole thing is a hoax. It’s even made CMT and the other news networks. But who in the hell knows how many people will show up anyway?” Robert blew out his breath. “So he and the team are on their way out.” He held his head.
“Oh, Robert….” Zeke sighed, hating how this was ripping Robert up, and he could already see what was coming down the road. His people would swoop in and Robert would be gone.
“I know. Everything is going to bloody hell. Barry told me that it was one of his former assistants who originally blew the whistle on where I was.” He shook his head. “It seems that when Barry helped me get my phone, he added it to a tracking app that his assistants had access to for him. The little shit sold it to a tabloid, and that started this whole mess.” Robert sighed. “All I wanted was a little time to myself so I could write music. What I didn’t expect was to meet someone like you.” Robert turned to him. “I want to spend time with you and go riding with you. I even like cooking with you, which is pretty amazing.” Robert stroked the back of Zeke’s hand with his calloused fingers. “But I don’t know what to do now.”
Zeke sat still. He didn’t have any answers either. “Let’s see what your friends come up with.” It was the only suggestion he had.
“You don’t understand. As soon as they get out here, they’ll start to take over my life.” He sighed and shook his head. “I hired them to help me manage my career and my music because I can’t do everything, but they have a tendency to make decisions for me rather than with me. They mean well but can be pushy as shit.” He groaned softly.
“Pushy is good sometimes,” Zeke said and leaned close to Robert as his own phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and stared at the strange number, nearly not answering, but pressing the Connect button anyway.
“Is this Hy Whitely?” a deep voice asked.
“Yes. This is him,” Zeke said cautiously. “Who is this and what can I do for you?”
“My name is Phinn Griffin and I’m the marketing manager for Kick in the Pants. Have you heard of us?” He sounded very serious.
“Yes. I have a pair of your boots. I’m wearing them now,” Zeke said, turning to Robert with a smile. “How can I help you?”
“I had the pleasure of seeing you in Cheyenne a few weeks ago. I was there on vacation and was very impressed, not just with the riding, but the way you interacted with the fans as well. They really seemed to be drawn to you. And that’s what I’m looking for. We’d like to sponsor you and have you do some personal appearances and be a spokesman for us. Our brand is growing and our customers love our product, but we’re finding it difficult to break into the market because of the established brands.”
Zeke shrugged at Robert as he continued listening.
“I’d like to set something up so we can talk to you in person. Maybe at an event. If you’re already wearing our boots, then we’d like to get you talking about them, that sort of thing.”
“I’m scheduled to ride in Denver later in the month.” Zeke provided the dates, wishing he had a pen to write down the details. He also gave Phinn his email addres
s.
“Perfect. I’ll email you the information and details about what we’re thinking, and we can discuss then. I’d love to hear your thoughts and look forward to talking with you then.” He ended the call, and Zeke put his phone away, a little shell-shocked.
“That was a potential sponsor,” Zeke said and recapped the call. “My God. That could be the savior I’ve been hoping for.” Sudden energy filled him, and he turned to the machine, almost ready to jump back on it. He’d already made up his mind to return to the rodeo, but this would make it even more worthwhile. “They want me to represent them, make some appearances, and even be a spokesman for them.” Now that was cool.
Robert nodded knowingly before hugging him tightly. “I’m happy for you. That’s a real opportunity.”
“God…,” Zeke whispered now that he had a few seconds to think things over. “I’m going to be traveling more, and….”
“Sweetheart, you need to make the best of the chances you have,” Robert told him gently, his voice conveying that Robert knew exactly what was going on. “Ride and make the most of your rodeo chances while you can.”
Zeke pulled away and looked Robert in the eyes. “But what about…?” There was no use asking the question when he already knew the answer.
“See how things are and how they work out. You have to do what’s right for yourself and the ranch.” Robert touched his cheek, and Zeke put his hand over it.
“I could turn it down,” Zeke offered quietly.
“And what then? You’ll still need to ride, and you’ll still travel a lot. This way you’ll be making money from multiple sources, doing what you love.” Robert pulled his hand away from his cheek and entwined their fingers. “I spent the last hour watching you. I can see in your eyes how much you love this sport. You come alive when you’re up there.”
“Do you feel the same way when you perform?” Zeke asked.
Robert grinned. “Hell yes. I love it. There’s something almost drug-like about being in front of twenty thousand people, having them scream for me, and the applause is deafening. I’ve always soaked up the energy when I perform. I love making music too, and….” Robert snorted. “I know I’ve done a whole hell of a lot of complaining about the business I’m in, but I do love the music part of it. I don’t think I could ever give that up. It’s the rest of it that wears on me.”
“What if you had to give it up?” Zeke probably shouldn’t have asked, because he was afraid of the answer.
“I don’t know if I can. My music is part of me. It comes from somewhere in my soul.” Robert locked his gaze with Zeke’s. “Do you think you could give up riding? I know you were thinking about it, but I saw you… I know how you felt on that bull, because I felt it too. The music in my head changed when you were up there. I was hearing your music. I know that has to seem strange to you, but I know that’s what I was hearing, and that never happens… not with anyone else… ever.”
Zeke swallowed hard. “What does that mean, then?”
Robert bit his lower lip. “I’ve thought about asking you to come on the road with me. I don’t want to be apart. But that wouldn’t be fair to you. I can’t ask you to give up your riding for me, any more than I’d want you to ask me to give up my music for you.” Robert hugged him tightly.
“Which means…?” Zeke closed his eyes as excitement from having Robert so close sizzled through him.
“That I have to go back to my life, and you need to move ahead with yours. I’d love to stay here and travel with you, watch you ride at each and every rodeo.” Robert pulled back to look him in the eye. “I’d adore going to bed with you each night and waking up with you in the morning.”
“But you’d resent me, just like if I went on the road with you and gave up my life here… then I’d resent you.” The light went on in his head and Zeke understood. “Sometimes life really sucks.”
“Tell me about it.” Robert backed away slightly, cupping Zeke’s face. “But we’ll find a way if we want this bad enough. I know it.”
Zeke nodded. “A lot of the guys I ride with have families at home that they’re supporting.” His mind suddenly went to Charlene and the fact that she was home alone now. He tried not to let the thought show in his expression, but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry.”
“You were thinking of Carson, weren’t you?” Robert asked. “You can’t let what happened get into your head.” He leaned closer, his eyes boring into Zeke’s. “You need to keep your head clear and your attention focused on the riding.” His expression changed, darkening, and Robert swallowed. He didn’t say a word, but Zeke got a clear message. Robert wasn’t going to tell him not to ride, but he was afraid Zeke wasn’t going to come back. Just like Carson didn’t. At least that’s what he thought Robert had to be thinking. It’s what went through his mind all the damned time.
“Of course I am. How can I not?” Zeke leaped to his feet. “A few weeks ago, I was thinking I’d give it all up, come back here, maybe find someone to settle down with, and build up the ranch into something that would support a family. Make it a place where I could build a home of my own. Instead, I find out Dad has debts he can’t pay, and I have to go back out there. I don’t have a choice.” He paced around the edge of the pads. “It’s like Dad took my choices away from me.” He continued walking, gesturing with his hands like some kind of idiot, but he couldn’t help it.
“Can you honestly say that you wouldn’t have returned to the bulls?” Robert asked.
Zeke ground his teeth. Sometimes Robert was so damned reasonable, it made Zeke want to scream. He turned his head to the rafters and howled at the top of his lungs. When he turned back to Robert, he half expected him to have run for the hills, but Robert sat there, calm, watching him intently.
“Feel better?”
“Fuck you for being so goddamned logical.” Zeke jabbed the air, and Robert chuckled. “It’s not funny.”
“Yes, it is.” Robert stood slowly. “Let it all out. Scream all you want. I know what it’s like to feel that your decisions have been stolen away. But I doubt that’s what he was trying to do.”
Zeke huffed. “It wasn’t. That’s the real shitty thing. He thought he was doing something special for the ranch. Land is pretty precious out here. It’s what we live and die by. But without a plan to put what he bought to use, it’s become a drain on the rest of the operation. So my only choice is to go back to the rodeo, win some money, and hopefully make enough to pay this mess down, or at least be able to make the payments long enough that I can put the land to work.” He still shook as Robert slowly approached him the way he approached Samson when he was skittish.
Robert placed his hands on his shoulders. “You know I could help you,” he said. “I hate to offer, because I know your pride won’t allow it, but…. I’ll give you anything you ask me for.”
Zeke shook his head. “I know.” He had to figure this one out on his own, and taking Robert’s money, even as a loan, wasn’t going to help in the end.
Robert pulled Zeke to him before he could say more. “You’re a damn good man, Zeke Whitingly. A damn good man.” Robert said no more, just held him.
Zeke took a moment before he hugged Robert in return. He was right, of course. Zeke would never take Robert’s money like that. But Robert had offered and understood Zeke’s pride at the same time. No hard feelings, no drama, just an understanding of him that few others had.
“Oh, and I tore up paycheck from your dad,” Robert whispered. “It isn’t like I need the money.” He inhaled deeply, and Zeke did the same, taking in Robert’s slightly sweaty, rich scent. If they could bottle that stuff, he’d make a fortune.
“Thanks…,” Zeke whispered and held Robert tighter. “I guess I better get some work done, and I’m sure you have things you need to do too.”
“Yeah. I was thinking that maybe you and I could go riding tomorrow.”
“Aren’t your people going to be here?” Zeke knew that everything was going to change in a few short hour
s.
“Why do you think I want to go? None of them can ride.” The devilish gleam in his eye was priceless. Zeke loved that naughty little boy look.
“Do you know where they’re all going to stay?” Zeke asked. “We could move you to the big house, and that way they could have the cabin. That is, unless you’re going to go to a hotel yourself?”
Robert shook his head. “I think I’d like Glenn to be able to stay here. He’s my manager and the one I trust the most to do what I ask him without filtering it through what he thinks he wants. Barry is my agent and he’s good, but he has his own ideas, so maybe he can stay in the hotel along with whoever else he brings along. God knows they might have chartered a plane and filled it for all I know.”
Zeke whistled. “Who pays for all that?”
Robert raised his eyebrows. “That all falls on Barry. He made the decision, so he pays. Sometimes he tries to charge things to me, but my accountant is one tough cookie. She doesn’t take any crap and will make him justify everything to the point that he gives up. I love Linda to death for that. She’s a real fun lady. Used to be a barrel racer when she was a teenager, and tried her hand as a singer when she was in college… so she understands my life pretty well.”
“You sound like you have a pretty good handle on things.”
Robert rolled his eyes. “There are way too many stories of people being taken advantage of by agents and accountants. So I keep mine separate and play them off each other. Barry likes to think he’s my guardian, so he watches the accountant, and she watches Barry. It tends to work out, and they both know someone is looking over their shoulder.” He grinned and then picked up his guitar. “How about we finish our work for the day and you can meet me in my cabin after dinner?”
Now that was the best thing Zeke had heard all day.
THE BEST-LAID plans and all that….
The ranch was normal and quiet until after dinner, when it almost felt like the ranch had been descended upon by a pack of wild dogs. A pair of huge black SUVs pulled into the yard and disgorged six people, all talking at the same time.