by JD Ruskin
“Gonna come, cowboy,” he grunted. “Gonna come deep in your ass.” I felt the force of his orgasm even as my own sent a fountain of cum across the blanket. I kind of floated away after that.
When I was aware again, Dane was murmuring into my neck. “Whoa, nice. I never fucked someone unconscious before.”
He smoothed his hands down my arms and kissed my cheek. Then he pulled me up and grabbed my cock. “You want more?”
Before I could answer, we heard a truck pulling up. I jerked up fast, bumping my head into his chin. “Jesse!”
“Calm down,” Dane said like he had nothing to worry about. “I’ll go meet him. You clean yourself up.”
He slid out of me, pushed my shirt down my back, and tugged my jeans up. I lay unmoving on the bale, totally limp.
“Cowboy,” he said gently. “You gotta get moving now.” He wrapped his arms around me, pulled me to my feet, and held me. The minute I was steady, he was gone.
When I turned around, he was already zipped up and at the door. He smiled as he watched me fumble with my zipper. Then he stepped out into the sunshine.
I righted my clothes and stashed the blanket and condom among the bales, then sat down to catch my breath. Outside, I heard him greet Jesse cool as could be. Then the door banged as the two of them went into Jesse’s house. I made myself go back to cleaning the barn.
JESSE CAME in about an hour later.
“So you’re making dinner for us.”
“No. I left pork chops in your fridge. You can make pork chops.”
“Please, little brother. You know I’m a bad cook. And you wouldn’t want Dane to suffer, would you? Besides,” he added. “I want to talk to you about something.”
“Talk away.”
“It’s about Sarah.”
A feeling like fear gripped me, and I squeezed hard on the shovel I held.
“Yeah.”
“I know you’re best friends. You have been forever,” he said slowly. “But you don’t seem to be dating.”
Jesse was quiet for a long time, looking intently at me. The silence grew uncomfortable. I couldn’t figure how to end it.
“Are you?” he finally asked. The edge in his voice could have cut hay.
“Am I what?”
“Jeez, Josh, you could make this easier.” He was getting angry, but he tried to tamp it down. “For the longest time, I thought you and Sarah were together. Everyone does. But then I started really paying attention, and I don’t think you are.” His tone was confrontational now. “Are you and Sarah dating?”
Crap. I had never figured on having this conversation with Jesse. In my worst nightmares, I’d never imagined him wanting to date her. If he and Sarah started dating, would he ask her what he had never asked me about my not dating anyone? And if she fell for him, would she feel like she had to tell him the truth I couldn’t? And what would happen if they had a conversation like that now, with Dane in the picture? I didn’t want to go there.
“Ask Sarah.”
“You bastard. I will.” He stomped out of the barn.
I let him and Dane make their own dinner.
THE FOLLOWING Saturday was one of those beautiful summer days only Montana can put together. The wind rippled the alfalfa into green waves and pushed the cloud shadows through the valley so fast you’d have thought they belonged to a running giant. But the sun warmed the skin and everything else it touched.
I had loaded up the last of the guests’ luggage when Jesse came toward me, moving fast and grinning big like he’d never gotten mad at me about Sarah. He had a plan.
“We’re going to the fair in Billings.”
“Who’s we?”
“You, me, Dane, and Sarah. Now go ask her. We’ll meet at the big house in an hour.” Then he was gone.
Great. Not only was my brother going to date my best friend, he was going to have me arrange it. I should have said no, but the idea of spending the day with Dane, even with Jesse along, was too appealing.
Sarah was in the kitchen helping Aunt Kate clean up.
“Good morning, beautiful ladies.”
“It will be when these dishes are done. Grab a towel and start drying.” But Sarah didn’t wait for me to grab anything. She threw a towel at me.
“How’s my favorite nephew?” Aunt Kate put her hands on her narrow hips, waiting for me to come over and kiss her.
“Fine, until Jesse comes around.” I kissed her cheek and caught a whiff of vanilla. She always smelled like vanilla.
“I saved you a cinnamon roll, Josh.” She pointed toward the butcher block table where a red and white checkered dish towel hid pure deliciousness.
I helped myself to some milk and took a big bite out of the roll. I could make them myself, but they never tasted as good as hers.
“Mmmm. Still the best, Aunt Kate.” I took another bite, savoring the thick, creamy icing.
“Hey, Sarah, speaking of Jesse….”
“I didn’t know we were speaking of him.”
“Yeah, well, he and Dane and I are going to the fair in Billings. Want to come along?”
“Are you asking, Josh?”
Oh, crap. What to say? I had to let her know what to expect.
“Jesse thought you might like to come along. I’ll tour the arts and crafts with you. Promise.”
She smiled bright. She liked those. “When are we leaving?”
“In an hour.”
“Well then, Sarah, you’d better go get ready,” Aunt Kate said. “I’ll finish up here.” She waved us both out of the kitchen.
An hour later, Sarah and I climbed into the backseat and Dane and Jesse into the front of my brother’s truck. As he drove, Jesse kept up a conversation with Dane about the cattle he wanted to see and watching the afternoon motorcycle stunt show.
Every now and then, I’d catch him looking at Sarah and me in the backseat. At her, really. But he’d glance at me too, like he was checking out where my hands were and how far apart we were sitting. I couldn’t quite convince myself that I was imagining it.
When we arrived, Jesse and Dane took off right away for the stunt show.
“Meet you at the Ferris wheel in three hours,” Jesse called.
Sarah steered me straight for the arts and crafts. She’d taken up knitting a few years ago and liked to see what others were making. She spent a lot of time fingering the sweaters, shawls, hats, and scarves, exclaiming about the feel of the yarn and the color combinations. I didn’t get it myself, but I touched what she pointed out and said I liked the colors when she asked.
I liked the fine arts exhibit better, especially the horse paintings, and we agreed on our favorites. We stopped to eat before heading over to the midway to meet up with Jesse and Dane.
“So anything happening between you and Dane?” she asked before biting into a sugary elephant ear.
I’d just gobbled down a mustard-drenched corn dog myself, and it took me a minute to get past the tangy taste and answer. “He’s spending most of his time with Jesse.”
“I suppose they have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“And how are you and Dane getting along?” She looked at me sideways.
“You’re fishing.”
“I am. Is he gay?”
For a minute, I debated telling her the truth. I’d always told her the truth. And she’d kept my secret.
“Yeah, he is. Jesse doesn’t know.”
“And?”
“I think he’s got some post-traumatic stress issues.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Aunt Kate says he’s seen a lot of fighting for a long time, and Jesse says Dane has admitted he’s got some stuff to deal with.”
“You’re talking that much with Jesse now?” Crap, I shouldn’t have said that, especially not that way. My stomach cramped, and not because of the corn dog.
She gave me a funny look. “I always talk to your brother. I see him at least once a day, you know.”
She didn�
��t understand yet that Jesse had set his sights on her. But before I could decide whether to tell her and ask her not to go out with him, she was on me again.
“I asked about Dane because I’m worried about you. Should I be?”
We were walking through the midway games. The crowd was sparse but would pick up once night and the midway’s mass of multicolored lights came on. Right now though, every one of the rough-looking, tattooed carnies called out to me to try to win my girl a stuffed something by shooting guns or baskets.
When I didn’t answer her question right away, Sarah followed up. “What’s happening with the two of you?”
What a good question. Darned if I knew. Should I tell her I’d had the best sex ever, then been punched out the next morning? That I couldn’t get the guy off my mind? That I’d never been with anybody who controlled sex like he did, and it was so hot I couldn’t imagine enjoying it as much with anyone else again?
“Nothing’s happening really. He runs real hot and cold.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’ll be friendly one day, then not talk to me for a couple days even though we see each other. It’s a common PTSD thing. Jesse was that way when he got back too, real wrapped up in whatever he was remembering in his own head. But he got over it.”
“He must have,” she agreed.
Sarah stopped then to consider one of the game booths, the one where you cast a line to try to land the sinker in one of a couple dozen fish bowls—except that the sinker has no real weight on it so it won’t fall true.
“You know, I took a continuing ed class that talked about PTSD. That’s not easy stuff to deal with, Josh. Some people don’t ever get over it.”
“I know.”
“So maybe you should just steer clear of getting involved with Dane? You don’t need that kind of trouble.”
“Yes, mother.”
She smiled real sweet. “Try to win me something, will you, Josh?”
“You know this game is rigged.”
“Please?”
I shook my head, but I still bought five chances. The carny, a bald guy of indeterminate age and missing a few teeth, was all over me. “Come on, cowboy. Win your pretty girl a nice prize. You can do it. This is kids’ play. What’s your name, honey?”
“Sarah.”
“And what do you want, Sarah?” he asked with a creepy-crawly leer. His question held way too many innuendoes, and his eyes didn’t leave Sarah’s chest as he pushed a fishing pole in my hand. She ignored him to concentrate on my fishing technique.
“Try that bowl there, Josh. That looks like a good one.”
So I tried, five times. No luck. I knew I wouldn’t win.
Sarah laughed and slipped her arm through mine. “I know you can do it. Win me a big stuffed bear, won’t you, Josh?”
“You are serious about this, aren’t you?”
She batted her eyes, and I pulled out my wallet again to buy five more chances.
“Come on, Josh,” the carny said like we’d been friends forever. “You can do it. A big strapping cowboy like you. You can’t let your little lady down.”
A minute and five more tries later, I let my little lady down.
I cast Sarah a questioning look. She laughed, her eyes sparkling with fun, and I had to laugh too. But I’d had it with the creepy carny.
“Hey, little lady, I see Jesse and Dane by the Ferris wheel. Let’s go.” I put my arm around her waist and pulled her away from the booth.
“Cowboy, you can’t quit now,” he called after me. “You’re going to get lucky. I can feel it.”
“Yes, Josh, you’re going to get lucky,” Sarah teased.
“But not with you. Come on.”
We were still arm in arm and laughing when we caught up with my brother and Dane. I swear, both of them cast grim looks my way, but she didn’t notice.
Sarah could spot a misbehaving kid behind her back, but she was not seeing what was right in front of her. I wondered what was wrong with her, but I was glad too. If she kept up this way, maybe nothing would come of Jesse’s plan for her.
“So how were the cattle and motorcycles?” she asked.
“Thankfully, not on the track together,” Dane answered.
“Dane, my man, what an idea. I see a fair show in our future.” Jesse’s eyes sparkled in fun. He winked at Sarah and poked Dane in the ribs.
“That was a joke, Jess.”
“Can’t you see it, though? Motorcycles running a tough hill course and dodging cattle too? Or do they win points if they go vertical after hitting the cows? We could make some good money.”
“No.”
“Just for that,” Jesse shot back, “I’m not riding the Ferris wheel with you. Come on, Sarah.”
He grabbed her arm, shot her one of his dimpled grins, and led her to the end of the line. She laughed and let him move her along, pausing just long enough to wave in my direction.
“Well wasn’t that a smooth maneuver?” Dane asked.
“He’s got good moves.”
“I like yours a little bit better,” he whispered, an evil look in his eyes.
“Just a little bit, huh?”
“Can’t make you overconfident.”
“No fear of that happening. Now shut up, will you?” I glanced around to see if anyone was looking at us. I needed to adjust my jeans in the worst way.
Dane laughed. “Come on. Let’s ride the Ferris wheel.”
We ended up two chairs behind Jesse and Sarah. Jesse had draped his arm over the back of the seat, and the two of them began an animated conversation.
“So what do you think about those two?” Dane asked.
“I don’t think there is a ‘those two’. He’s not her type.”
Dane turned to look at me. “You really believe that, cowboy?”
“Yeah. Hey, look over there. You can see the Rims.”
“What are the Rims?”
“Those two long cliffs. They divide the city. See? The one to the north is about five hundred feet high, and there’s the one to the east. And there to the southeast is the Yellowstone River, which goes by our place.”
“It all looks peaceful and pretty from up here.” Dane sighed. “Even a war zone can look peaceful just before the helo drops you into it.”
He was quiet for a bit, and the ride sped up, whirling us up to the sky, then down to the ground and around again. Whenever the ride took us high into the air, I rubbed my thumb across the knuckles of his left hand, which was resting loosely on the grab bar.
“I’ve always liked how things look from the air,” he said, watching me do it. “Guess that’s why the Ferris wheel was always my favorite ride.”
“I was afraid of them when I was a kid.”
“I’ll protect you, cowboy.”
“Will you now?”
“At least until I hurt you again,” he said softly. His face colored. “I’m sorry about punching you that morning.”
He was gripping the safety bar hard now, and I laid my hand over his. “It’s okay, Dane. Really. I know it’s the PTSD.”
“Do you?”
“Jesse had it. Talk about it with him.”
“Yeah, I am.” He paused, like he was debating saying more. Then he changed the subject. “So what midway ride did you like best?”
“I always wanted to ride the ponies.”
“Imagine that.” Dane was smiling now, and I was glad.
“Yeah, but the guys running the rides never let me go fast.”
Dane laughed. “And now you’re too big for the ponies.”
“Sad but true.”
“What ride did Jesse like?”
“He didn’t do rides. He spent all his money on games. Especially ones involving rifles.”
“So that’s how he was the only one who could beat me on the shooting range.”
“Yeah. I imagine he’ll drag us there next.”
He did. He and Sarah were beaming when we met up with them after the ride. She was having a
good time. He looked like he thought his plan was going just fine. I felt uneasy.
“Okay, guys, time for some shooting practice,” he said gleefully. “One of us will win you something, Sarah.”
“I hope so,” she said, casting a look my way.
“Hey, I told you that fish bowl thing was fixed.”
“Sure it was, little brother,” Jesse mocked. “Let’s see how you do shooting.”
“I am not competing with you. Let Dane give it a try.”
I was insistent about not going up against Jesse. I didn’t need to prove anything. I wouldn’t have proved anything anyway.
Dane was willing to try, and we stopped at a shooting booth with rows of moving ducks for targets. Jesse let Dane go first, and Dane picked up the rifle and hit them all, one after the other without stopping.
The carny, a short, thin man with a cigarette pack wrapped in each sleeve of his dirty white T-shirt, set Dane up again.
“You can’t stop now, Ranger,” he insisted. He’d spotted Dane’s tattoo. Well, really, you couldn’t miss it.
Bound in his tight red shirt, Dane’s arm muscles were that much more noticeable where the shirt sleeves ended. Each time his arm moved, the tattoo jumped like it was alive. The skull’s grin got bigger too. Kind of spooky, really.
A crowd began to form quietly behind us, both men and women stopping to watch. The women were watching Dane. The men had their eyes on the targets, which all fell down again.
“Another go, Ranger? Come on. You can’t stop now,” the carny urged. A greasy grin creased his dark, gaunt face, and his body vibrated as he pondered the financial possibilities not just of Jesse and Dane, but the crowd too. He’d be able to keep himself in cigarettes for a few days more for sure.
Jesse held out a bill, and the carny snatched it. “That’s it, boys. Just pretend those ducks are al-Qaeda.”
Something dark flickered across Dane’s face at the carny’s remark, there and gone in a fraction of a second. Nobody but me noticed.
Dane began shooting again. He wiped out the top row, then missed three targets one after the other on the lower level. He closed his eyes and put the rifle on the counter.
“Hey, you aren’t done,” the carny cried.
“I’m done.”
“But—”