My Cowboy Freedom

by Z. A. Maxfield

  “She’s a sweetheart. Name’s Maisy.”

  “Cute.” I’d never met anyone with a service dog. It didn’t seem polite to ask what she did, because I’d only met the guy five seconds ago.

  After that, the conversation lagged while we bumped over the trail. You don’t say shit in prison if you want to be left alone, but he looked like a good kid, and for whatever reason, I was making him nervous. Something defensive in the way he hunched over the wheel drew my eye.

  The silence dragged out between us.

  “You got any tips?” I asked. “I need this job.”

  “Boss ain’t an easy man, but he’s better than most. He doesn’t expect you to do anything he wouldn’t do himself. The men who left us worked with the horses so I’m sure I can start you out there.”

  “I know my way around horses.”

  “Great. I’ll introduce you to Tad. He’s probably at the barn. Or maybe it’s Julio today. They’ll know what needs doing. First though, do folks call you Skyler?”

  “Sky.”

  “I’m Rock.” The kid gave a chuckle. “Rock and Sky. We’re going to get some shit about that.”

  “Probably.” I held out my hand but he left me hanging so I let it fall back into my lap. “Pleased to meet you, Rock.”

  His lips curved up like I’d said something funny.

  “What?”

  “Sky’s a much nicer name than Rock. Rock sounds dumb.”

  “Nah. Look at Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson. He’s super badass.”

  “When I tell people my name, they laugh.”

  “Don’t see why. It’s solid. It fits you.”

  “Right.” He flushed. “’Cause I look like a big, dumb rock.”

  “Wait a minute. There ain’t nothing dumb about rocks.” I wanted that half-moon of a smile back on his face. At least, I didn’t want to be the guy who turned it off. “You could say diamonds are just rocks too.”

  “That’s true, isn’t it?” Those lips curved up again and damn if I wasn’t right, everything seemed better when Rock was happy.

  “And I’ll tell you what.” Might as well work the subject into the ground, as long as he’s buying it. “When you find a diamond, it doesn’t look like nothing. It’s a hunk of twisted crystal junk. You gotta know how to coax the beauty out of it. Find it the right setting to make it sparkle. A diamond is only a rock until someone takes care of it, because then it’s a precious gemstone.”

  “I don’t suppose I ever thought of it that way.” He tipped his hat back and delivered a gut-punching smile.

  It doesn’t cost shit to be nice. That’s what ’Nando always said. He also said to keep your eyes on what a dude can do for you. Big is useful. Smart is useful. Small and sneaky can get things done. You have to form alliances in prison. Nobody goes it alone. You gotta know where to put your back in a fight, and I was betting Rock would be a good guy to have on my side.

  I watched his muscled forearms ripple like a sack of snakes as he turned the mini-truck along the rutted track.

  I like big guys. That’s a proven fact. Just looking at his arms made my dick tingle.

  Hm . . . I watched him and waited for him to notice. Finally, he turned and our eyes met. He eyed me just a little . . . Too. Long. His color deepened.

  I got butterflies in my stomach, because I knew I’d found my new best friend.

  It was a little mercenary, but I’d learned that nobody survives on their own.

  He looked away. “Still. Rock’s a dorky name.”

  “Jesus called Simon Peter—which means ‘rock’—because he was solid. He said, ‘And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church— ’”

  “ ‘— and the gates of Hades will not overcome it.’ I know the scripture.” His eyes lost their shine for real this time. Bitterness brimmed over in their blue, blue depths. “I was named after a football coach and I don’t really live my life around a two-thousand-year-old book.”

  “Okay.” Wow.

  Massive misstep there. Had to backtrack. Usually the Jesus gig worked with the type of guys who blush. I held both hands up, surrender style, afraid I was losing with him.

  “’Nuff said. Not everybody believes.”

  He sighed. “It’s not like I’m gonna tell you what to believe, it’s just . . . I don’t anymore.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s because I died. Twice. Once on the football field and once in the ER. I can tell you from personal experience”—he gestured out over the horizon—“this life here? This is all we get.”

  I wanted to argue but something told me not to. I wasn’t ready to hear the life I had was all there was. “Okay.”

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I believe you believe.”

  “So, no. You don’t believe me.” The mini-truck slowed. “What do you think happens when we die?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m going to act like the next five minutes is all we get and if there’s more, I plan to be pleasantly surprised.”

  “There you go.” He gave a soft chuckle, and a nod of his head. “In the meantime, let me show you where you’ll bunk during your time here on planet Earth.”

  Chapter 3

  Rock

  Just my luck, the new guy quoted scripture in casual conversation. He didn’t look like a plant, though. Anyone my parents sent to spy on me would appear better off. Less weathered.

  Anyone my parents sent would look as if they’d stepped out of a picture frame at Walmart.

  Sky kept his hands wrapped tightly around his backpack—as if someone would steal it from him if he didn’t. He’d gone real quiet after that first nervous jabber about rocks.

  Precious gems . . .

  I sneaked another glance his way. The way he met my eyes lit a fuse that went straight to my belly. Further south, even. I looked too long. Let my gaze drop to his mouth, which I wanted wrapped around my cock right the fuck then . . .

  He was lean and extremely fit. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him, but he didn’t exactly have the look of a cowboy.

  He was also wound tighter than my guitar strings so I wanted to set him at ease.

  We bumped along the rutted track, thrown around the truck like dice in a game of Trouble.

  “So, are you from Texas originally?” I asked.

  “All over.”

  “You work any of the spreads around here?”

  “Nope.”

  “What kind of experience—”

  “Not much. Look,” he said. “You mind not grilling me until I get settled in? I’m nervous enough as it is.”

  “Who’s grilling? I’m making conversation.” He didn’t look like he was going to answer, which pissed me off a little. I was trying to be friendly, and here he was, blowing hot and cold on me. “All right. You get settled in first.”

  I clammed up, but I guess he felt bad, because he was the one broke the silence a minute or two later.

  “Not that I mind talking to you.” That softened things, but if you asked me it was too little too late. “You seem like a nice guy.”

  “I am a nice guy. Ask anyone.” Then I remembered. “Oh. Right. That’s me, talking again. Sorry. Just trying to be friendly.”

  A minute or so passed when no one spoke. That’s actually a long time if you pay attention. Sky caved in first again. “I really need this job. And I could use a friend. But I don’t like to talk about myself. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Aw, now.” My heart went out to him. It was tough getting a job in this economy. “It’s going to be okay. If you work hard, you’ll do fine here.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Good to know.”

  “And don’t mind Elena. She’ll warm up. She always does.”

  “I hope so.”

  We took the rutted t
rail that led by the gardens and the chicken coop, which I’d built myself, and the pens where the pigs and goats lived. That was my little patch of the ranch, and I felt a rush of pride every time I saw it. The people and animals at the Rocking C depended on me; Sterling Chandler told me so.

  I slid another glance the new guy’s way. Sized him up. No matter how generous I wanted to be . . .

  Nope.

  He was no cowboy.

  He was pale as a half-cooked pancake, for one thing. I’d never seen a hand who didn’t have white crow’s feet lines from squinting at the sun. And Sky sure didn’t move like he spent much time in the saddle.

  He had a cowboy’s lanky stride, though. Maybe he was wanting to try it out. Lotta guys think it’s glamorous. Of course it ain’t. But you can’t tell the tenderfoots that.

  Since Sky was here to do a cowboy’s job, I put him in the bunkhouse with the rest of them, even though it made me sad. He’d be one of the gang in a day or two, which was a shame.

  Generally, the cowboys kept their distance from me. I didn’t know whether it was because of my spells, or if I just wasn’t their kind, but they mostly treated me like a slow kid brother they had to put up with.

  So right about then I was wondering how long it would take Sky to decide he’d rather spend his time with the grown-ups too.

  We got to the bunkhouse and I showed him around: common room, bath, and laundry. And then I took him to his room, which had been Lucho’s before. It was on the end and had two windows, but it was small and pretty and spare. All the bunkhouse rooms were like little hotel rooms, with a double bed, a dresser, and a nightstand. Some of the guys dressed them up a little with rugs and pictures that made them feel more at home, and some used them only as a place to lay their heads at night.

  It looked like Elena had cleaned recently. There were linens and towels on the bed, and someone had opened the windows a crack to circulate fresh air.

  “Um . . . this is it.”

  Sky stood with his back to me for a long time, just frozen, and I worried for a second he was going to tell me the room wasn’t okay.

  But then I heard a muffled sound, halfway between an indrawn breath and a sob. I thought it came from Sky, but when he turned, his face held no expression.

  He said, “This is nice. Thank you.”

  I watched him for any sign he wasn’t okay, but . . . no. His face held no expression at all.

  “You’re responsible for cleaning this room from now on. Also, there’s a chore wheel for the bathrooms and kitchen. Mostly everyone does their chores, but I’ve heard Tad will try to get away without doing his. Watch out for him.”

  “Got it.” Sky put his bag down on the bed. He had hardly anything with him, and he wasted no time emptying his clothes into drawers. He made the bed quick as anything. Here was a man used to doing things for himself. After that, he set a picture of a middle-aged woman and a girl on the nightstand. While I watched, he spent some time angling the frame just so.

  “That your family?”

  He nodded. “My mother and Luna, my little sister.”

  “Pretty.” The women were obviously related to him—they had the same wavy brown hair and dark eyes. Sky had a few days’ worth of stubble growing, but otherwise, they were peas in a pod.

  Sky gave the frame a pat and dusted his hands off on his jeans. “Okay—”

  “They live around here?”

  “My mother’s in West Virginia now. Luna’s in her first year at Brown.”

  “Where’s that?”

  His smile was a little sad. “Providence, Rhode Island. She got a full ride to an Ivy League school. Can you imagine? She’s awesome.”

  “She must be pretty smart.”

  He glanced away. “Smart as anything.”

  “Hey, girl,” he called to Maisy. “Something under there?”

  She was nosing around under the bed. She didn’t find anything good to sniff at, I guess. No boots, no crumbs. She looked at me, disappointed. Sky dropped his hand to give her ear a rub, and I stopped him. “Please don’t bother Maisy. She’s working.”

  “Oh, okay. Sorry. I didn’t know.” He took his hand back.

  “No reason you should,” I teased. “Except it’s printed on her vest.”

  “Sorry.” He shrugged. “Like I said, my baby sister is the smart one. She’s going to be a lawyer someday. When I see a dog, I automatically think pet him.”

  “Maisy’s a girl.” I corrected him again. “I wish I had a sister. I only got brothers.” And none of them talk to you much anymore, so even if you had a sister it wouldn’t matter.

  “How many?”

  “I’ve got five, three older and two younger.”

  “Big family.”

  “Total chaos. My mom always said—” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, the intervention they’d set up to discuss my lifestyle choices replayed in my mind. My chest tightened, making it hard to catch a good, full breath.

  Sky didn’t miss a thing. “She said what?”

  My family was still a sore subject. I loved living with Elena but I missed them. “I thought you didn’t want to talk?”

  “I don’t want to. I didn’t mean you couldn’t.”

  “Oh.” Of course, now that I had his permission I couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “You were talking about your family?” he prodded gently.

  “It’s not important. We’d better get you over to the barn so you can get started.” I turned to leave, because now that I’d thought about it, I didn’t want to talk about myself either. He’d learn about my family soon enough.

  “Hey, Rock?”

  I turned to find him holding out his hand. “Yeah?”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I got an electric shock when our hands clasped.

  “Sorry.”

  “That wasn’t anything you did, Rock.” He said the words so gently and he kept hold of my hand. “It’s just dry weather.”

  I got all hung up in the rich, dark brown of Skyler Brody’s eyes.

  They pulled me in and stole my breath.

  They held me wordless, soundless, pinned in place.

  He let go first. I turned away and gave a whistle for Maisy.

  I thought Skyler might be open to being my friend someday. He might, if the rest of the hands didn’t convince him I wasn’t worth his time.

  “C’mon, Maisy,”

  I must have given the command too sharply because she slunk past me with her head down and her tail dragging.

  “I’m sorry,” I leaned over to give her a pat. Maisy is very patient with me. “Good girl, Maisy. You’re a good girl.”

  Someday, I wanted a two-footed friend too.

  Chapter 4

  Sky

  After I dropped off my things, Rock and Maisy took me to the horse barn, where he introduced me to Tad Bowler. Bowler was filling in at the barn temporarily because of an unexpected workplace shake-up. Lucky for me, the hands that quit left a nice big empty space for me to fill.

  I could hear ’Nando’s warning as if he were there with me. Do not fuck this up, Gorrión.

  “You can look for a pair of barn boots in the back there.” Bowler pointed toward a bin with some gear in it. “We’ve got some old ones you can use until you get your own.”

  “Thanks.” I rummaged around until I found a pair that fit and also some work gloves I thought might come in handy. “What do you need me to do?”

  “You follow me to see what’s what. Then we’ll bring the horses back in.”

  I followed him along from stall to stall, cleaning water buckets and putting out the precise feed for each of the horses. It was easy. The instructions were all written down.

  “I don’t mind telling you I’d much rather be pushing cattle than doing this barn shit again,” said Tad. “We ha
d a couple guys quit.”

  “I heard.”

  “What’d you hear?”

  Nothing good comes from gossip. “Only that you’re short-handed.”

  “Yeah, well. We had these guys come from New Mexico, Lucho and Tripp. They were good guys, but they backed the wrong horse in a fight between the boss and his daughter so they packed up and left.”

  “None of my business. I’m just here to work.”

  “Good attitude. They were fags anyway. Boss don’t like that.”

  “That a fact?” The blank mask that helped me survive prison was going to come in handy here too.

  “Hell yeah. They were a couple.” He said the word with a sneer. “Didn’t even look at no one but each other. If they’d have come on to me I’d have had to shown ’em what’s what.”

  “Good thing that never happened.”

  He didn’t have anything to worry about from me. Not my type.

  “Anyway, they didn’t last.”

  “None of my business,” I repeated my favorite words. “I’m here to work. What’s next?”

  “Know how to groom and pick a hoof?”

  “Sure.”

  “Grab the blower and clear the aisle. After that’s done, I’ll start bringing in the horses and you can get to know them.”

  I figured out how to use the blower, which was loud but kind of fun. Tad came back leading two horses, a black gelding named Ogre and a chestnut mare he called Goldie. He took the mare while I put the gelding in cross ties.

  I’d spent most of my childhood around horses. I didn’t realize until just then how desperately I’d missed them. I stroked Ogre’s withers and tangled my fingers in his mane, getting him used to the sight and scent of me while I talked in a low and soothing voice. He let me pick his hooves like the well-trained, gentle boy he was. Once I got him into his stall he buried his nose in his bucket, tail swishing back and forth, ticking off time.

  I took a second to draw the musty, animal smell of him deep into my lungs.

  Tad came back in while I was woolgathering. “What’s the matter? You sick or something?”