by JD Ruskin
E-mail: [email protected]
Website: http://r-cooper.livejournal.com/
By R. COOPER
Animal Magnetism (Dreamspinner Anthology)
Let There Be Light
Medium, Sweet, Extra Shot of Geek
Play It Again, Charlie
A Wealth of Unsaid Words
Wicklow’s Odyssey
Winner Takes It All
Being(s) In Love
Some Kind of Magic
A Boy and His Dragon
A Beginner’s Guide to Wooing Your Mate
Little Wolf
Published by DREAMSPINNER PRESS
http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com
For Edwin and Eric, who helped me start,
And for Eva, who made sure I finished.
Acknowledgments
WRITING IS a solitary craft, yet I have been blessed in both my nonfiction and fiction careers to find great companies of fellow writers who have taught and encouraged me. My fiction critique group in Columbus, Ohio—Abbie, Eva, Sarah, and Randi—supported the creation of Worth the Coming Home from beginning to end and read every word multiple times. I hope you each know how very dear you are to me and how much I miss seeing you. Thanks to Holly, who let me join her on her long-ago romance review blog—it’s where I learned so much by reading so much more; to Heidi, Doris, Rusti, and Glenn, and my Aunts Boots and Donna, who were my first fans; to Pam and Margo for being my first readers, and Marsha for being my last; to Lynn at Sparkling Dawg for my fabulous website; to Connie, my own personal Horse Whisperer; and to Debbie Phillips and Andrea Dowding of Women on Fire (www.beawomanonfire.com). I was fortunate to be in a WOF group, trying to figure out my next dream, when a layoff ended my newspaper career. WOF helped me realize I could write a novel and I could move to Montana. My wonderful husband agreed, and here we are.
Thanks to my great virtual support group—the members of the Rainbow Romance Writers, the LGBT chapter of Romance Writers of America. If you love male/male and LGBT romance, you can’t do better than to visit our website, www.rainbowromancewriters.com, review the members list, and then check out any of our websites and books. These are the writers I love to read, and I have learned so very much from them about writing, the business of writing, and how to be professional doing it. If you’re a reader who wants to become a romance writer, the best thing you can do is join Romance Writers of America and then join your local or our specialty chapter.
Thank you, too, to everyone at Dreamspinner Press: Elizabeth North, artist Anne Cain—who made Josh and Dane look like they always looked to me—and the great editing team. I am so grateful I landed in your capable hands.
“DAMN IT, Josh. Are you training that horse or dancing with him? You know Hanson will be running his mouth all over the valley about your lack of skill if it bests you.”
My brother’s taunts flew like the dust the mustang was kicking up. Problem was, Jesse sat high on the fence while I stood down in the mess in the corral.
The gelding ran from me the minute I stepped into the enclosure, and it didn’t help that I missed the first time I tried to throw a rope around his neck. Now he was at the far end with his butt facing me. Not the end a trainer wants to see.
“I told you, you were a moron to buy this animal,” Jesse continued. “There’s no way Hanson will take him back.”
I didn’t care about the money. I didn’t want to fail this horse. He was beautiful. About two years old, all black, with a thick mane and tail. Perfect head and chest, strong legs, on the tall side, which suited me. Proud, courageous, and totally wild. I had to figure a way to start him.
Damn that jackass Ray Hanson. Normally, I don’t swear—my mom didn’t like it. But what else are you going to call a man who tries to train a smart horse the dumb way?
Ray had invited me over to watch him start the mustang. He’s always wanted folks to think he’s better than me with horses. He’s got some strengths of his own. Me? I just understand horses. I can’t explain it. Maybe I got it from my dad. Folks have told me he was the best.
I’d wanted to work with a wild mustang all my life, so I went to Hanson’s place when he called. Right off, it was bad. The horse was real smart. But bad things had been done to him in the short time he’d been around humans.
Hanson did more when he put the halter on. Walked right up to the animal, put a chokehold on his neck, and had his foreman force the halter on. It was violent and ugly, and the horse’s eyes turned dark and hard. Hanson was in real danger of taking everything gorgeous out of that animal and breaking his spirit for good.
Soon the man was in danger period. The gelding’s ears went flat against his neck, and he struck at Hanson with both front legs. Then he ran. When he couldn’t escape, he let his back hooves fly to keep Hanson away. Hanson got mad and called for his rifle, and that’s when I bought him.
Before the next morning, Hanson had told everybody at Cunningham’s Bar and Grill how he’d planned all along to sell me an unbreakable horse at a profit. Now I had to make progress or I’d be hearing about how Hanson had bested me from every cowboy in the valley, especially my brother. Sometimes Jesse played his older brother card too hard. Yeah, he had five years on me. But I was twenty-five now, and I didn’t see five years as any big age difference anymore. I’d graduated college, and I was a respected horse breeder and trainer. It was time Jesse noticed.
I picked up the tail of my halter rope and tossed the rope toward the mustang’s hindquarters. It fell harmlessly to the ground, which is what I wanted. But the horse ignored it, which I didn’t want.
I pulled the halter rope in and threw it again and again for nearly half an hour. I needed to turn his front quarters toward me. Finally, as I pulled it toward me once more, the gelding turned his head to look at me. He studied me a long time, making a decision.
Sweat rolled down my neck and pooled on my lower back. I took a slow, controlled breath and waited. His ears twitched and his nostrils flared, like he was catching my scent. He took a step toward me and licked his lips.
It was the reaction I was looking for. Carefully, I closed the distance between us, keeping myself in his line of sight. The mustang flicked his ears and bowed his neck, wanting to leave but unsure he needed to. I stopped, letting him make the decision to stay. He didn’t, but I started my approach again. He still distrusted me, and I paused again, and then we continued the dance until I was beside him.
I lifted my hand in the air as if to stroke his neck, but I didn’t touch him, and we repeated that until, at last, he accepted my caress. Murmuring softly, I apologized to him for all the errors others had made.
“That’s it. Feels good, doesn’t it?” I whispered low, making him strain to hear me as I stroked him. “You’re in a better place now. You realize that, don’t you, Hurricane? That’s what I’m naming you, okay? Because you kick up such a fuss. We’re going to have a good time together.”
Next, I rubbed his withers and shoulders, firm enough so he knew he didn’t need to be afraid of my touch. Hurricane took the halter, then began to respond to the pressure of the rope. If my luck held out, he’d be taking a saddle in no time.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Jesse said. “I didn’t believe you could do even that with that animal. Good work, Josh.”
“Quite a show,” a voice called from the driveway.
A stranger was coming toward us, moving like he hadn’t walked in days. Judging by the dust on the black Silverado behind him, maybe he hadn’t. His hair was a little on the long side for southwestern Montana, and he was maybe four inches taller than me. He wore jeans and combat boots, and he had muscles everywhere, bulging along his arms and legs and all controlled tight and held ready under his camo T-shirt.
He nodded at me, then stared at Jesse. My brother had turned around to look at him, but now he jumped off the fence and ran at him. He stopped short in front of him, looking him over, then hugged him hard.
“Took you long enough to get here.”
/> The stranger let go in Jesse’s arms, like a balloon you let all the air out of. Then he sucked it all back in quick. Pulling himself together, he stepped back and looked my brother over, not saying a word. The two of them were nearly the same size, except the stranger had more muscle. And he had dark hair, while my brother’s was short and blond like mine.
“Damn, Dane, it’s good to see you,” Jesse said. His grin was huge when he turned to me. “Josh, this is my old Ranger buddy, Dane Keller.”
“Good to meet you,” I called out in a low voice, still rubbing and monitoring Hurricane. “Let me finish with my horse.”
“We made good progress, Hurricane.” I gave him one last rub and turned away, keeping him in my peripheral vision as I made my way to the gate. Hurricane’s ears and eyes focused on my leaving, and it was satisfying to watch.
Now I could turn my attention to the stranger. He gripped my hand when we shook, in the way of men used to commanding attention and others.
“Good to meet you, little brother. That was some work with the horse.”
Even when giving the compliment, Dane’s voice was deep and controlled, like he was used to controlling everything all the time. His gray eyes never wavered as he studied my face, and that and his grip and his voice made my stomach flip. God, I wanted him to touch me all over.
“How long were you watching?”
“Long enough to know you knew what you were doing.”
“Thanks. I—”
“Dane,” Jesse interrupted. “Come on up to the house. You look like you could use a beer. How long can you stay?”
Slapping Dane’s shoulder, Jesse turned him toward his house. “Come on along, Josh,” he added.
“Give me a few minutes,” I said to his back. “Aunt Kate wanted to talk to me before the guest cookout.” Brooks Ranch was a working cattle and horse ranch that took guests in summer. It had been that way for a hundred years.
“Good. You can make us some dinner then,” he replied.
ABOUT TWENTY minutes later, I found them drinking on Jesse’s deck. The sun was slipping behind the Gallatin Range on the west side of the valley, throwing pink highlights across the Absaroka Mountains behind the ranch. The light made the alfalfa and pines and cottonwoods glow so the whole valley really looked like its name implied: Paradise. It was my favorite time of day, and I couldn’t imagine a better place in the world to be, ever.
Dane and Jesse had served together in Afghanistan and Iraq. Jesse said Dane saved his life a couple of times, and when Dane stayed in the Army, they stayed in touch.
“I didn’t re-up, Jesse,” Dane said as I stepped onto the deck. Dane took a long drink from his beer, and Jesse studied him hard.
“Good,” my brother said. “What you going to do?”
Dane stared at his beer can for a bit, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Got all my gear in the truck. Left Bragg a couple days ago, and here I am.” He tried to grin, but it wasn’t working. It was like his muscles had forgotten how.
“Good,” Jesse said again. “You rest up a couple days. Uncle Karl can put you to work, and you can stay with me. We can get some fishing in.”
“Still got a plan for everything, hey?” Dane said, shaking his head.
I had to laugh at that, and they both noticed I was there. Dane looked at me, and this time he almost smiled. It sent a thrill through me.
“You do know my brother.”
“That’s right,” Jesse said. “You two make fun. But I do have a plan, and the next part involves you making a decent welcome home dinner, Josh, while we bring in Dane’s gear.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” I saluted. Jesse whipped me the finger, and they headed toward the Silverado.
I am a pretty good cook. Started helping my mom when I was little, then helped cook for guests after our parents died and Uncle Karl and Aunt Kate took us in.
Tonight I wanted to make something really good to impress Dane. But I couldn’t take a lot of time. I settled for homemade meatballs and a doctored-up jar of spaghetti sauce, plus salad and my own version of garlic bread using store-bought bread. It all smelled pretty good when I took it out to the deck.
As usual, Jesse ate fast. Dane seemed to be enjoying every bite. I liked that.
“I haven’t had a meal like this in forever, Josh,” he said, looking me in the face as he wiped at his mouth with a napkin. “Thank you.”
Later that night, lying in bed at my cabin, I thought about that compliment and the look in Dane’s eyes. Was he gay? If I let myself, I could want him bad, just like I wanted to train the horse.
I sighed and folded my hands behind my head. No use getting my hopes up. Even if he was interested, how could I do anything about it when no one knew the truth about me?
THE NEXT morning, I stopped by Jesse’s early. I was surprised to find Dane already up and the coffee made.
“Good stuff. Thanks.”
“Jesse doesn’t make coffee, does he?”
“Heck no. Loves to drink it but won’t make it. Says he’s biologically unable. You want me to make breakfast?” I rummaged through the refrigerator. “Eggs and bacon okay? You want scrambled or something else?”
“Eggs any way is great,” he replied, leaning against the counter and stretching out his long legs. I forced myself to look away. “Your brother really, really cannot make coffee. It tastes like shit.”
“And here I thought he was lying to get out of helping.” I started cracking eggs in a bowl, but I wanted to keep the conversation going. “So you’re done with the Rangers for good?”
“Yes.”
“You must have seen some interesting stuff.”
“Interesting,” he repeated. “Let’s change the subject.” His face was expressionless.
“Sure. Sorry….” I felt stupid, but I didn’t want him to stop talking. “You given any thought to what you want to do today? Jesse is heading into Billings to check out an auction, but it’s four hours there and back.”
“I don’t think I want to spend much more time in a truck ride right away.” Dane took a long drink of his coffee and aimed his penetrating stare at me. “What are you doing today?”
He was interested? Too bad I wasn’t doing anything exciting. “I’m leading a trail ride for kids right after lunch.”
“What are you doing until lunch?”
“Getting horses ready for the trail ride.”
He was quiet for a few minutes. I put the bacon in the skillet and concentrated on not splashing grease on myself.
“Where’s the plates and silverware?”
I pointed and he started setting the table.
“Mind if I tag along on your ride?”
I felt compelled to turn around. He was staring at me again. Suddenly, my pants were too tight and my face heated. I turned back to the stove.
“Not at all. You ridden much?”
“I’ve ridden.”
“How about herding kids?”
“Some.” He paused awhile, like he was remembering something. “I can lift them on and off the horses at least.”
“You’re on. We’ll head over to the barn after breakfast and get you familiar with the saddle again. Then we’ll get the horses ready for the kids, have lunch, and hit the trail.”
A thundering on the stairs announced Jesse was up. Dane poured a new cup of coffee and held it out as my brother walked through the doorway.
“Thanks. How’d you sleep, Dane?”
“It’s quiet here.”
“Yeah. Not much going on unless the wind is blowing, and that’s the way we like it. You making bacon and eggs, Josh?”
“Scrambled.”
“Good. Make sure everybody takes raincoats on this afternoon’s ride. It’s a real possibility you’ll need them.” He turned to Dane. “What you thinking about doing today? And nothing is an option.”
“Going along on Josh’s trail ride.”
“Great idea,” Jesse answered, not missing a beat. “Try not to swear around the ki
ds. Uncle Karl doesn’t like it. It was hard for me to stop after I got home.”
“Got it.”
I put breakfast on the table and headed for the barn. I’d just finished saddling Hector when Dane joined me. He had a small pack slung over his shoulder.
“If it’s okay with you, I’m going to put you on Sugarpie.”
“Sugarpie?”
“She’s a good, gentle horse for a trail ride with kids,” I said, but I could feel heat rising up my neck and face. The guy made me too self-conscious about everything. “My mother named her.”
“What’s your horse called?”
“Hector.”
“Hector.”
“He was born when I was studying Greek mythology.” Even to me, I sounded lame.
“And I’m on Sugarpie.”
I looked away. I couldn’t think of a thing to say. Probably one of the reasons I spent so much time with horses.
“Relax. Sugarpie is fine.”
“Okay then.”
I led the horses out of the barn and handed off Sugarpie’s reins. Dane swung smoothly into the saddle and settled in. I mounted and we took off at a walk.
“We won’t go much faster than this all afternoon. But feel free to ease into a lope when you’re ready.”
I stayed behind Dane awhile, as I do nearly every time I’m with a rider new to me. Usually, I watch for the person to get comfortable. And I watched for that with Dane. But I was watching his tight butt and the way it rocked with the horse, like sex with clothes on, just as much.
He was uneasy in the saddle at first, but I could see him trying hard to listen to what Sugarpie was telling him. Then came the moment everything clicked. One second he was stiff and Sugarpie was tense. The next, Dane moved with her, and Sugarpie perked up like she might have a good time after all. I watched the smooth rocking a few minutes longer, until my jeans were painfully tight. Then I had to wait until I’d calmed down some so I could move up to join him.