by Olivia Black
“Take it easy there, city boy.” Wyatt winked, joining Jackson. “You aren’t used to the air here. There isn’t any smog.” Jackson chuckled and together they walked toward the house.
Jackson stepped up onto the porch and waited for Wyatt to take the lead. This home was more Wyatt’s than his. The older man opened the door and stood back, allowing Jackson to go in ahead of him. The inside was just as rustic and classy as the outside. Large, overstuffed leather furniture greeted him and photo canvases covered the walls, pulling Jackson closer.
“One of the ranch hands, Cody White, took the pictures. He’s a good kid with an eye for art. He lives here at the ranch, in the bunkhouse. I’m sure you’ll be meeting him soon,” Wyatt said from behind him.
“He’s very talented,” Jackson murmured.
“Let me show you to one of the guest rooms. You can relax and get unpacked.” Wyatt started walking toward the stairs and Jackson followed him. “Feel free to look around, if you’d like. When it’s chow time, you’ll hear Mrs. Hunt.” He chuckled and Jackson grinned. The sound was husky and real. Jackson hoped he would be around long enough to hear it more.
Wyatt stopped when he reached one of about a half-dozen doors located down a long hallway. He pushed the door open and strode inside. Placing Jackson’s suitcase on the bed, Wyatt turned toward him, nodded his head, and walked back out.
“Which room is yours?” Jackson asked.
He felt a little uncomfortable being left alone. There were other folks around the ranch and four half brothers that would be showing up. The only person he knew was Wyatt. He preferred to stay close to the man.
“I don’t live inside the house. I have a small cabin located on the property. I’ll be around though, if you need anything. I’ll let you get settled and see you at supper.” He tipped his hat and disappeared, leaving Jackson alone.
* * * *
Wyatt left Jackson inside one of the guest rooms and headed out to the barn. He hoped that the man would be staying, but he wasn’t going to get overly excited. It was going to be hard to convince five men to stay and work together for a father that they didn’t know. It would’ve been a lot easier if the men knew William or at least had the opportunity to meet him. They would probably be a hell of a lot more understanding. So far he was impressed with Jackson.
The look in Jackson’s eyes when Wyatt left was still stuck in his mind. And when he’d asked where Wyatt’s room was—his mind wandered to something a little less innocent. He lived in a small cabin located on the property. Part of him wanted to take Jackson there, to see if their attraction was mutual. Shaking his head, he pushed that thought far away. Jackson was William’s son and although he promised to take care of the man’s sons, he doubted bedding one was a good idea.
“Hey, Wyatt.” Cody acknowledged him as he strode into the barn. “How did it go at the airport?”
“Things went surprisingly well. I picked up Jackson Murphy. He’s inside the main house getting settled,” Wyatt told him.
“He’s the one from California, right?” Cody asked, and Wyatt nodded. “Do you think they’re going to stay?”
“I don’t know? Let’s just keep working. When they’re all here, we’ll talk to them,” Wyatt said.
It wasn’t just William’s sons that were tied to the Belt Buckle Ranch. Everyone that worked at the place was as well. They all had something to lose if the brothers couldn’t work together.
“When do you go back to the airport?” Cody asked.
Wyatt could tell that the young man was worried about his position at the ranch. Hell, he was too, but he was better at burying his emotions.
“The pilot will call me when he does a pickup.” Wyatt grabbed his saddle and went over to his favorite horse, Midnight.
Swinging the saddle up, he situated the leather on Midnight’s back before giving the horse a loving pat. Wyatt quickly went through the steps, saddling his horse. He cinched the buckle into place, making sure it was snugly against the horse’s rib cage before grabbing the lead rope and taking Midnight out of the barn. Sliding his left boot into the stirrup, Wyatt swung his leg around, easily mounting Midnight’s back. With a click of his tongue, Midnight started walking. Wyatt headed toward the neighbor’s property—Trent Weston. He wanted to give him an update.
Wyatt hoped that the men would arrive according to plan. Each plane ticket had a different date, spread out over five days. The pilot had called him when Jackson boarded, that’s how he’d been at the airport to pick up the young man. The next call should be for Robbie Robertson, tomorrow morning. It was a waiting game. Cash had been included in the envelopes as an extra incentive, or just in case someone was afraid to fly.
The waiting was excruciating. He didn’t know what the future held. He’d trusted his longtime friend, William, and hoped that his sons would follow through with the man’s plan. It took a while to reach Trent’s property. He didn’t mind the ride though, the fresh air felt good on his face. He could barely remember his life before the Belt Buckle Ranch. Where the hell am I going to go if this doesn’t work out?
The sound of a screen door closing pulled him from his thoughts, and Wyatt looked up and watched as Trent Weston walked outside. The two men were around the same age, Trent only a couple of years younger. He was a good-looking man overall, but compared to Jackson, he was just barely average. Snorting, he rolled his eyes heavenward. He needed to get Jackson out of his head and fast.
“Did Jackson make it in safely?” Trent asked, and Wyatt raised a brow in question. “The pilot called as he took off. He said, ‘son number one is here.’”
“Yeah, I showed him to one of the guest rooms so that he could settle in,” Wyatt informed the man.
“Good.” He nodded. “I really want this to work out for everyone.”
“And if it doesn’t, you can always purchase the land for yourself.” Wyatt tried to keep his tone respectful, but failed miserably.
He didn’t have anything against Trent. Except for the fact that the man was wealthy and would be able to take the property right from underneath Wyatt’s feet. Wyatt had a modest savings, but nothing compared to Trent’s deep pockets.
Trent shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that. I was made the executor, but I know William’s wishes. He wants his sons to own and run the ranch. After a year, I’ll be happy to hand over everything to them. Hell, I’d love to give the job to you. I don’t need this extra headache.”
“William put you in charge,” he stated instead of agreeing outright.
When William had asked him to take over, Wyatt refused. He hadn’t realized how serious the man’s illness was. Going to Trent was his second choice, but at least the neighbor wasn’t a greedy bastard. It would be easy for the man to screw everyone over. Thank goodness that didn’t seem to be his plan, but just in case, Wyatt needed to start thinking about his own future.
“I’ve got some paperwork to do so I’d better head back to it. I’m glad Jackson’s here. Now, we wait for the other four to show up. When they’re all at the house, I’ll come over,” Trent told him, and Wyatt tilted his hand before turning Midnight around and heading back toward the Belt Buckle.
Chapter 4
The loud metal bell started ringing and Jackson jolted up, almost falling out of bed. He blinked rapidly, his heart in his throat. It took him only a second to realize that he wasn’t at home in LA, but at the ranch in Colorado. Glancing over at the clock sitting on the side table, he realized that Mrs. Hunt was calling everyone in for dinner. Standing up, Jackson put his shoes on and headed downstairs. When he reached the kitchen, he watched as an older woman hustled around.
“Excuse me, ma’am, is there anything I can help you with?” he asked. She looked capable, but she reminded him of his grandmother and he wanted to lend a hand.
Turning around, she stared at him and her eyes misted. He panicked for a minute, wondering if he’d offended her to the point of tears. “Jackson,” she sniffled, wiping her eyes. “You look like
your dad.” She strode over to him and pulled him in a tight embrace. He was surprised for a minute, but returned the hug.
She patted his back and stepped back. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’m a hugger.”
“It’s no problem.” He shrugged. “So, can I help you?”
“Sure. Why don’t you grab the large salad bowl and put it on the table. Everything is ready to go.” Following her orders, Jackson picked up the large glass bowl and carried it into the dining area. “Go ahead and take a seat,” she called. “Everyone will be in shortly.”
Jackson pulled out a chair and sat down. Looking up and down the center of the table, his stomach started to growl. The food looked amazing. Most of his childhood was made up of frozen, microwaveable food or restaurants. This was the real deal, home cooking. Licking his lips, he could barely contain himself from digging in and starting without the rest of the ranch hands.
The front door opened and Wyatt sauntered in, followed by a couple of men. They were all wearing jeans, button-up long-sleeve T-shirts, cowboy boots and hats. Damn it, he whistled appreciatively inside his head.
Wyatt removed his hat and took a seat next to Jackson. He smelled like sunshine and fresh mountain air combined with a more masculine scent all his own.
Wyatt leaned in close to Jackson’s ear and he sat frozen, waiting to hear what the man had to say. “You’ve got a little drool.”
Pulling back, he winked, and Jackson wanted to pinch himself. Was he still asleep on the bed upstairs? Was Wyatt really flirting with him or was he just teasing?
“Jackson, these are a few of the ranch hands. This is Cody White, Mason Cline, and Preston Maxwell.” Wyatt pointed to each man and Jackson stood up awkwardly, taking each offered hand in his own for the introduction.
“Cody, you’re the one that took the pictures, right?” Jackson had admired them when he arrived only a few hours prior.
“Yeah.” He nodded, looking proud. “William always said I had a good eye.”
“It’s true, they’re great,” Jackson told him, taking a seat as Mrs. Hunt walked in and sat down.
“Eat up, boys. I’m sure you’re all hungry,” she announced, and the men didn’t need to be told twice. They started piling up their plates and passing various dishes around.
“So, Jackson, how do you like the ranch so far?” Mason asked before he took a bite.
“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it before,” Jackson said.
“We all love this place, it’s home,” Preston added.
“You’re lucky. I call a small apartment home. Living here must be great.” Jackson took a bite, wondering what exactly Preston meant. Or maybe the man was just trying to add to the conversation.
“Isn’t he just adorable?” Mrs. Hunt asked, patting his hand, and Jackson grinned. “Well, Wyatt?” She turned her head and Jackson almost choked on his food. He thought it was a rhetorical question. Why would she ask him that?
“Yeah, he’s adorable.” Wyatt rolled his eyes, but not before Jackson saw real interest in his eyes.
“Are you gay?” he blurted, and everyone at the table seemed to freeze.
“Oh, dear.” Mrs. Hunt pulled her hand back. “I’m sorry, Wyatt, I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I hope that won’t be a problem for you, Jackson, being on a ranch with gay men.” The poor woman looked absolutely ill, and Jackson felt guilty.
“No.” He shook his head. “I was just surprised. I didn’t mean to blurt that out. I’m gay, I just figured…” Jackson wasn’t sure what to say.
“Oh.” Mrs. Hunt sat back up and looked as if all was right in the world.
The men around him started eating, everyone silent, and Jackson wanted to kick himself for ruining such a good moment. He looked down at his plate and took a few bites. Every once in a while he would glance up and study Wyatt, Cody, Mason, and Preston. The men were so good looking.
When Mrs. Hunt said being on a ranch with gay men…did that mean all of these studs were gay?
“Thank you for the wonderful dinner, Mrs. Hunt. Jackson, it was a pleasure to meet you. I’ll be seeing you around.” Cody stood up.
“It was nice meeting you as well.” Jackson smiled and watched as Cody grabbed his plate and headed toward the kitchen. He dropped it off, nodded to them all and left the house.
Shit. Did I just offend everyone? Mason and Preston quickly followed Cody’s lead and before he knew it, Jackson was sitting at the table alone with Wyatt, while Mrs. Hunt was cleaning up the mess.
“I’m so sorry, Wyatt. I didn’t mean to cause any issues. I wasn’t trying to be offensive or rude. I’m gay. I don’t have any problems with other gay men.” Jackson felt like such an ass. Had he really upset the other men that bad that they wanted to get away from him?
“You didn’t,” he simply stated as he finished his meal.
“Uh…the empty table says otherwise,” Jackson snapped back.
“The meals around here aren’t normally too chatty. Cody lives in the bunkhouse, but the other two, Mason and Preston, have a small place together down the road. After a long day of working outside, we just want to eat, shower, and sleep. Nobody was offended,” Wyatt explained.
“And you really think I’m adorable?” he asked, and Wyatt chuckled, easing Jackson’s nerves.
“You’re a very good-looking man,” Wyatt said as he pushed his chair out and stood up.
Jackson made a face, confused as to why the man was walking away. Shouldn’t he stick around and flirt a little? They were attracted to each other. He was here at the Belt Buckle for a short amount of time. Why not take advantage of the situation?
“Uh…” Jackson cleared his throat and followed Wyatt into the kitchen. Mrs. Hunt smiled as she straightened up.
“I’ll finish in here for you, Mrs. Hunt,” he offered.
He wanted to continue the conversation with Wyatt. Talking in front of the older woman wasn’t an option, especially if he wanted to flirt and perhaps offer Wyatt a brief affair.
She looked between the two of them and then said, “Okay, I’ll leave you to it.” She slashed a wink in his direction as she walked out of the kitchen.
When she was gone, Jackson turned toward Wyatt. The cowboy was casually leaning against the counter, his arms crossed. He looked at Jackson and all of a sudden, he didn’t feel so confident. If he offered himself and Wyatt rejected him, it would make his stay at the ranch incredibly awkward.
“Are you interested?” he said, and wished his voice had been stronger.
“I’m attracted to you. You’re a very good-looking man.” Jackson felt his confidence level rise. “Under normal circumstances, I would ask you out and try to woo you into bed.” Here it comes. The “it’s not you, it’s me,” speech. How embarrassing. Jackson kept his face relaxed and neutral so that he wouldn’t give away what he was feeling.
“You’re William’s son. I knew the man for fifteen years. I held his hand when he passed away and I promised to take care of his sons. I just…” He shook his head, his eyes looking sad. “I just don’t think that sharing a bed is a good idea.”
Jackson exhaled and nodded.
He couldn’t blame the cowboy. It was all true. He’d known his father and worked by his side for many years. The idea of taking Jackson to bed was probably a little weird. Especially since Mrs. Hunt said he looked a lot like William.
“I understand.” They were silent for a moment. “Well, I’d better clean the kitchen.” Jackson turned his back on Wyatt and shoved his hands in to the hot, soapy sink water.
He started doing the dishes, sticking to the task at hand, until he heard the front door close. Sighing, Jackson let his body relax, his shoulder dropping. He really did understand. For one thing, there was an age difference. Wyatt held his father’s hand while the man passed. He was glad that William wasn’t alone, but sad for Wyatt. His libido would take a backseat. He was here to get to know William, not to have sex.
“I thought you might need a little help, but i
t looks like you’ve got it all under control,” Mrs. Hunt said, pulling Jackson out of his thoughts.
“I can clean the kitchen. There probably isn’t a lot I can do around a ranch, but housework, I was trained for that.” Jackson smiled, pushing the thoughts of Wyatt away.
“Oh, really?” she said, a laugh in her voice.
“Yeah, my mom likes a clean house. Her idea of a fun Saturday morning was a chore war.” He smiled, remembering his childhood.
Mrs. Hunt started laughing. “What the heck is a chore war?”
“My mom would write a list and split it in half. If I completed my chores first, I got a special treat—I got to pick the restaurant that night when we went out to dinner, a friend could sleep over, or I could rent a video—stuff like that.” Jackson shrugged. It was something normal that happened in his house.
“Well then, you can help me around the house while you’re here,” she said with a sweet voice.
“Whatever you need, I’m more than happy to help, Mrs. Hunt,” he confirmed, as he finished washing the dishes.
“You can’t keep calling me Mrs. Hunt. Since we’ll be working together, we should be on a first name basis. I’m Susan.” She grabbed the cloth and started wiping the counters. “Wyatt’s a good man.”
“I can believe that.” Jackson nodded. “I don’t really know him that well, but from what I do know, he seems like a good man.”
“He is. He’s been single a long time. I know the fourteen-year age difference can be a little intimidating, but age shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t really, not in the long run,” Susan told him, and Jackson thought it was sweet that she cared so much to get involved. She’d probably been working at the ranch as long as Wyatt had.
“The age difference doesn’t matter to me. I had no idea it was fourteen years, though. Wyatt is in amazing shape.” It was true. Wyatt looked closer to forty than fifty.