by Dakota Flint
Answering the door, I was surprised. I had been expecting some awkward, pimply-faced kid, not blond-blue-eyed-All-American-Joe-next-door. “Hi, you must be Scott. I’m Dylan.” The kid met my eyes confidently, returned a strong handshake. This was the kid that nobody liked?
I didn’t have time to pursue that thought because Erin and family arrived then, and there was much shrieking and giggling that took place as I squeezed the breath out of Amelia and tossed Molly into the air, straining a bit. She must have been getting too old for that, because the other option was that I was getting too old, and wasn’t that a scary thought?
“Hey, you,” I said as I pulled my sister into a bear hug. I lowered my voice and said against her ear, “So, why did you really invite that kid?” She didn’t answer, the sneak, and I had been her brother long enough to know that something was up.
The greetings finally over, even after repeating them a second time when Wade came down the stairs fresh from his shower, I ushered everyone into the dining room to eat so the food wouldn’t get cold.
We sat down, Wade at the head of the table, Scott on his right and Erin on his left, said grace, and I left everyone else to make small talk amidst the sound of clanging silverware and closed-mouthed chewing. Well, looking at Molly, maybe not closed-mouth chewing for everyone. I contemplated Scott.
“So, tell me, what are you studying, Scott?” This was probably Wade’s best attempt at dinner table conversation.
“I’m an English Literature major.”
Scott looked earnest and I didn’t think I should chime in with something along the lines of, “What the hell are you gonna do with that?”
“Ah. That’s interesting. Seems like Erin’s coffee shop is a good place to work,” Wade said. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. Was Wade even trying? And was this how the whole evening was going to go?
I glanced around the table, taking in Mike, who was studiously applying himself to his second helping of roast, the two little girls who were conducting a whispered conversation, and finally Erin, who was looking at the exchange between Wade and Scott with interest. I looked back to see Scott blushing slightly and smiling shyly at Wade. Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner. This time I didn’t bother to refrain from rolling my eyes.
“Erin, could I have your help in the kitchen?” She shook her head no, an evil grin on her face. Little sisters were still the pits no matter how old you were. “Please?”
“Dylan, you know I’ve never been a hit in the kitchen.” Erin was truly evil. If I had said that about her, I wouldn’t have turned my back on her for weeks. I opened my mouth to agree with her, damn the consequences.
And cue Mike, ever the diplomat. “But you do bake a fine chocolate cake. Doesn’t she, girls?” The girls must have known which side their cookies were frosted on, because they stopped whispering long enough to agree with their father. As for Mike, he just smiled at his wife, and I cringed, thinking there was something unnatural about seeing a man look at one’s baby sister like that, even if they had been married for nine years now.
But back to the matter at hand. “Oh, you know me, I’m just hopeless with desserts. I try and I try and still, it eludes me. How do you get your chocolate cake so chocolate? I think that’s where that whole mystique problem came from. Betty’s cake was just never chocolate enough.” Erin rolled her eyes, but finally followed me into the kitchen, probably eager to tell me to shut up before I scared off young Scott.
I grabbed the store-bought chocolate cake out of the fridge and pulled out a plate to put it on, trying to keep my voice quiet as I said, “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know what you mean. I was eating dinner until you rudely demanded my help.” I’d seen that butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth look too many times over the years to be fooled.
“No. Scott. He doesn’t look like the misfit type to me.”
“He is, actually. Small town, most of his high school friends moved away. His parents are pretty hateful, though they pay his tuition.” She started to say something else, but then bit her lip.
“So you thought you’d bring him out here for dinner, throw him in front of Wade, and sit back while the magic happened?” I turned around and braced my hands on the edge of the counter, consciously relaxing the muscles in my shoulders and back so Erin wouldn’t know how much the idea bothered me.
“No, you dolt. Actually, I brought him out here thinking magic might happen with you.” Her voice rose on the last bit, and I glared at her over my shoulder.
“Keep your voice down.”
“Oh, like they really think I’m helping you with your cake.” Her voice sounded annoyed.
“Whatever.”
“Dylan.” She sounded hesitant. “How long are you going to stay out here, playing house, waiting for Wade to look at you and realize he’s ready to move on?”
It didn’t surprise me that Erin knew how I felt about Wade. “Is that what you think I’m doing out here? Just waiting for my chance?” I’d poured blood, sweat, and even a few unmanly tears into this place over the years, and I’d worked damn hard these last few months to save that. Besides, Wade was my good friend, had been before he and Simon ever got together.
I felt her come up behind me, lay her hand between my shoulder blades, a gentle reminiscence of our mother, and say, “Not at first, no. And maybe not even completely now either. I’m not blind. I see the work this place needs. But… I’m not blind. Wade’s not broken anymore, you know?” She paused, and I closed my eyes, both unwilling and desperate at the same time to hear what she had to say. “He’s going to wake up someday soon and realize he deserves to be happy again, and he’s going to go looking, and I’m just scared he might not go looking for you. I love you, Lynnie, and I just don’t want you hurt.”
I bowed my head and tried not to think about how much the idea hurt. Erin hugged my back, probably feeling bad, and I turned around to return the hug properly. For all the teasing, Erin was a gentle little thing, and she’d always hated to see anybody hurt, but most especially her brothers. “Don’t worry about me, Erin. I’ll be fine.” I sure hoped so, anyways.
She pulled back, patted my shoulder, again so reminiscent of our mother. “We should go back in before my girls think we’re eating the cake without them and come looking.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure. We’ll just tell them we had to make it just chocolate enough for them.” I picked up the plate. “How’d you know Scott was gay, anyways? He tell you?” Kid didn’t seem like the type to just go blurting that out.
Erin blushed, her pale cheeks a fiery red. “Um.”
Now this looked like it might be interesting. The brother in me decided I couldn’t just let it go, even if the occupants of the dining room mutinied. I set the cake down. “Spill. Make it quick, though, before we’re discovered.”
She gave a nervous laugh. “Well, the other day I saw him reading in the back room while on break.”
I waited, but she looked like that was all she’d offer up. “Well, hot damn, Erin. Book the tickets for Washington. Somebody better tell those folks at the Department of Ed that it’s reading that makes you queer.” She glared at me. “So, what was he reading? The Gay Kama Sutra?”
She sighed and said, “No, nothing like that. The title, ‘The Good Thief’, didn’t shriek it and the cover wasn’t that obvious either, although it did have two guys on it. I probably wouldn’t have given it another thought, but he blushed and stammered and raced back to the front. So I took a look.”
“And?”
“And it was…well, basically a romance. But between two guys. With, ya know, sex and everything.” Now she was beet red again.
“Sex and everything?” An odd thought struck me. “You read it.”
“Um.” She looked reluctant to answer, but then she smiled. “Okay. Yeah. I read it. When I realized what it was, I was really curious. I asked Scott if I could borrow it and when I started reading it, holy cow, I couldn’t put it down. It was hot and awesome, and I
can’t wait for the author’s next release.” With that, she grabbed the cake off the counter and walked back toward the dining room, leaving me to ponder the fact that my sister was reading gay romance.
Deciding that thought needed reexamining later, I went back to the dining room to find Wade talking about the ranch, Scott hanging on his every word, and Erin and Mike trying to settle the fight between the girls over the cake.
I sat down, figuring I might as well see how chocolate the chocolate cake was after all that. I was just digging in when Molly stopped antagonizing her sister and said, “Uncle Dylan?”
“Yeah, Molly Dolly?” How cute, she had cake on her cheek.
“You and Uncle Wade are married now, right?” She waited expectantly for an answer.
Why was it that kids always zeroed in on exactly the wrong thing to say at the worst time? The table was dead silent, and I could feel everyone looking at me, feel Wade looking at me. I didn’t know how to answer, and shot a pleading look at Erin, but she was just watching me. I couldn’t believe she was seriously going to make me field this one.
“No, Molly, we’re not.” I was saved by having to say anything else when Dwayne, one of the new ranch hands, appeared in the doorway.
“I’m real sorry to interrupt, but can I talk to you a minute, Wade?” I was curious what this might be about, but with Mack visiting his daughter in Michigan ’til Wednesday it could be any number of things.
“Sure thing, Dwayne. We were just finishing up, and then I was going to give Scott here a tour of the ranch, but I’m sure Dylan can start it off and I’ll catch up. Let’s go to my office.”
As Wade stood to leave, Erin said, “Well, we should be going. I have to open up the shop tomorrow morning. Don’t feel like you have to go yet, though, Scott. I’m sure Dylan will be more than glad to give the tour one-on-one.” She smiled at me, the glint back in her eyes.
We all said our good-byes, the girls hugging me sweetly, and Erin taking an extra long time to hug Wade and whisper something in his ear. Whatever it was made him look at me, the oddest look on his face, then swing his gaze to Scott standing near the door, waiting to start his exciting tour of ranch life.
Finishing up the tour in the stables, I introduced Scott to Blitzen. He wasn’t really the cowboy type, but, to give him credit, he had listened and looked interested as I showed him around and he had a nice, gentle rub for Blitzen, who hung her head over the stall door.
“So, what do you think? Ready to quit school and join the rodeo?” I wondered where Wade was and why he didn’t catch up with us.
Scott laughed. “Um, no, not exactly. It’s really pretty out here, but the only thing I’d really want to get my hands on would be the cowboys.” He blushed, as if he hadn’t meant to say that. It was cute, I decided. He was cute. Cute and young, that was for sure.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
He turned toward me, propping his arm on the stall door, mirroring my position. Barely a foot separated us. “So. You come into town much?”
I’d kind of been expecting something like this. All the furtive looks at my ass out of the corner of his eye and the subsequent blushing as we walked around. I tried to think of the best way to let him down gently. Honesty was probably the best idea. “Nope, not really. Just for errands. No time or interest for anything else.” There. That was plain as day, and I could see Scott heard what I was saying by the disappointed look on his face.
“Hey, you done with the tour?” I turned to look at Wade, who was looking from me to Scott and back to me again.
“Yep. Showed Scott how glamorous ranching is, and I’m trying to talk him out of giving up school to become a ranch hand.” I wasn’t sure why I felt like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar, but I didn’t like it. “Everything okay with Dwayne?”
“Yeah. Fine.” Wade just continued to look at us. I could feel my muscles starting to tense.
“Um, this was really nice, but I should be going. Thanks for dinner and the tour. I had a very nice time.” Scott kept shooting uncertain looks between Wade and myself, probably picking up on the weird tension.
Seeing as Wade still wasn’t going to say anything, I glared at him and said to Scott, “You’re welcome. It was nice having you.”
We walked Scott to his car and it was only when Scott’s car was a tiny red dot on the road leading away from the ranch that Wade turned to me and said something. “Nice kid, huh?” He looked at me expectantly.
“Yeah, nice kid.” I wasn’t sure what he wanted from me. Erin’s words from earlier ran through my mind again, but I determinedly pushed them away.
“You gonna see him again?”
Huh. So that’s what this was about. Had Wade wanted to see this kid again? “Probably not. You?”
Wade’s eyebrows lifted. “I wasn’t the one looking all cozy with him a minute ago.”
I snorted my disbelief. “Cozy? Seriously?”
“Yeah, that’s what it looked like to me.”
“Well, then, I think you might need to have your eyesight checked.” Suddenly I felt weary of trying to figure everything out. I just wanted to sink into sleep for a week and forget Wade, and family dinners, and cute kids from town. “It doesn’t matter. You’ll see whatever you want to see, I bet.”
I turned and walked off toward the bunkhouse, not bothering to say good night, even when I heard Wade say behind me, “Yeah, I think I’m starting to. Night.”
Chapter Eleven
The first sketch was left on the dresser in my bedroom a week after the dinner with Erin and the family, rolled up with a rubber band around it. Just back from checking on cattle in the south meadow, I didn’t know what it was at first. I only realized it was from Wade when I uncurled it.
It was a charcoal sketch of Mack, left leg resting on the first step of the bunkhouse porch. He had a beer bottle dangling in one hand by his side, and his hat was off. Mack was laughing, looking much better than when I first returned to the ranch.
It was a good sketch, captured the feeling of camaraderie we felt sitting out on the porch in the cool summer evenings, showed that larger than life quality I’d always associated with Mack.
Feeling a bit puzzled, I wondered why Wade gave it to me, furtively left in my room like it was a secret gift. But I was glad he was sketching again.
I decided I’d go thank Wade in person, see if he’d give me a clue as to why he gave the drawing to me.
I found him eating a sandwich at the kitchen table in the main house, and I took a seat when he invited me to join him. Wade smiled at me. “You go down to the south meadow?”
“Yep, just got back. Should get ready to move cattle.”
“‘S what I figured.” Wade nodded his head and continued to eat.
I set the sketch down on the table, and his eyes flicked down to it then back up to meet mine. He didn’t say anything.
“Thank you, Wade. It’s nice. Mack probably would have liked it more than me.” I let the last word lilt up as if I had asked a question.
“Welcome. Yeah, he probably would have.” And that was it. He didn’t add anything else, just went back to his turkey on wheat.
“All right, then. Back to work. See you at dinner.” I got up to leave, and I caught the small smile playing around Wade’s mouth. It looked secretive.
Hmmm.
The second sketch was left in the same place, the same way, a week later. I was curious to see what this one would be, and I felt a thrill of excitement as I unrolled it.
Surprised, I studied it. It was a drawing of Erin and Mike and the girls, sitting around the dining room table at their house, probably drawn the other night after Wade and I went for dinner. Wade had managed to capture the animation in their faces, like a snapshot in time, a sweet remembrance of a family moment.
I was still puzzled and felt as though I was missing some vital piece of information, but I pushed the thought aside. It was a nice drawing of my family.
I wondered what Wade wou
ld say, so once again I sought him out to say thank you. I found him sitting out by the pond, shirtless, sweat streaming down the curve of his spine despite the brisk air, and my step faltered.
He must have heard me, though, because he turned his head and looked at me over his shoulder.
“Hey, Wade,” I said as I joined him on the grass by the edge of the pond.
“Hey, Dylan.” He tossed a pebble into the pond, disturbing the smooth surface of the green-brown water.
“I got the drawing you left today. It’s…special. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Did you give one to Erin?”
“Nope.” Another pebble was tossed. I waited.
Nothing. So, that was it. I sighed, oddly reluctant to push for more.
“Mack and the hands are heading into Big Timber tonight to blow their paychecks in their usual Friday night free-for-all. I was thinking about joining them. You wanna go?” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, absently plucking grass by his right knee. I could smell him, sweat and man and Wade with that hint of pine-scented soap, and I wondered what he’d do when we all went to town and he stayed behind.
He looked at me for a moment and then said, “Yeah. Sure.”
I tried not to look as surprised by this as I felt. Wade hadn’t gone out for a night of fun since I’d been back on the Lazy G. Something relaxed inside of me.
“All right. They’re leavin’ in about an hour or so. Time to go find my dancin’ shoes.” Wade snorted at this. I got up, brushed off my jeans and said in falsetto, Southern twang added in for good measure, “I suggest you try and find a shower. You’re sweaty and that is so icky.”
Wade laughed and said, “Sorry, darlin’. Didn’t mean to offend your delicate sensibilities.”