The Broken H

by J. L. Langley

  Shane held his hands up in the universal “I’m unarmed, don’t hurt me” gesture. “Kauffman, I swear to you that haven’t done anything to Sherry Ann.”

  “She’s pregnant, damn you! The test came back positive.” Kauffman moved closer, gun aimed at the middle of Shane’s bare chest.

  Shane glanced around using only his eyes, making certain to keep his head and body still. He searched for something, anything to get him out of this situation in one piece. He needed time. “It isn’t mine.” Shane side-stepped, putting the post in front of him. It wasn’t much cover, but it was better than nothing.

  “Sherry Ann says it is.” The man shifted along with Shane.

  “What will killing me solve? Why don’t you put the gun down and we can talk about this.” Something moved in Shane’s peripheral vision by the end of the house. Gray.

  He had to keep Kauffman’s attention centered on him; he didn’t dare think of what might happen if he didn’t. He raised his voice a little, not a shout, but louder. “You know you’ll land in jail. If Grayson doesn’t come out of the house and kill you after you shoot me, you’ll end up in prison. Think of what that will do to your daughter, your reputation, your business. You aren’t going to do Sherry Ann any good if you’re behind --”

  “Daddy?” Sherry Ann came running around the same side of the cottage as her father had, the opposite direction from Gray.

  Kauffman abruptly jerked his attention and his gun away from Shane.

  Everything somehow slowed down. Shane’s focus rested solely on the Kauffman as he leapt over the rail and rushed the man. Eyes trained on the shotgun, he was distantly aware of Sherry Ann’s horrified gasp and Gray racing forward. In hindsight, it would probably seem a insanely stupid thing to do, but all he could think of then was that he had to get that weapon away from Kauffman.

  Just as he was about on top of the man, Kauffman spotted him and tried to raise the shotgun again.

  “Daddy! No!” Sherry Ann ran toward her father, arms spread out.

  In an instant, time suddenly seemed to fast forward once more.

  Shane grabbed the barrel of the gun and yanked it away.

  “Don’t fucking move, Kauffman!” Gray stood about five feet away. “Put your hands on your head!” He was barefoot and bare-chested, his jeans on but unfastened. His hair stuck straight up, but at the moment Shane couldn’t conceive of a better vision.

  Shane turned the shotgun around, aiming it at Kauffman as he backed out of immediate reach.

  Sherry Ann had stopped halfway to her father.

  Kauffman pivoted slowly toward Gray, putting his hands on his head as he did so.

  Shane heaved a sigh of relief. “Sherry Ann, get over here out of the way.”

  She shook her head, sobbing. “No. No. This is all my fault.”

  Kauffman turned to glare at Shane but didn’t make any other move. “No, honey, it’s not. It’s his fault.”

  “No, Daddy. Shane didn’t do anything. I’m not pregnant. I tried to get him to go out with me, but he wouldn’t. I’m sorry.”

  “What?!” Kauffman dropped his hands and spun toward his daughter.

  “Hands back on your head, Kauffman!” Gray shouted, moving closer.

  Kauffman put his hands back, his shoulders sagging in clear disbelief. “What? Why would you say such a thing? You’re lying now, aren’t you? You’re trying to protect him! What about the pregnancy test results?”

  Sherry Ann slumped to the ground and bawled. “I-I got a urine sample from my friend Kelly! I’m s-sorry!”

  The older man turned back to Shane shaking his head, mouth working silently. The man looked defeated.

  Shane felt like hell, even though it was the man’s own fault. If he’d paid more attention to his daughter, showed her some affection, none of this shit would have happened. But at least he apparently loved his kid enough to kill for her. What that said for anything, Shane didn’t know. And then, there were the consequences of his actions tonight; what was he going to get for demonstrating his love so late and in this way? Maybe --

  “No, chief. Absolutely not! Don’t you even ask me. He’s going to jail.”

  Shane nodded. Gray was right. It seemed the man’s heart was in the right place after all, but he needed to learn to use his head. Shane glanced at Sherry Ann, still sobbing wildly on the ground. If nothing else, Kauffman going to jail would be a good lesson for her. Maybe, like her father was about to find out, she’d be better to think before she acted next time.

  § § § §

  Gray shut the door after waving his parents off. When his deputies had shown up, all the ruckus had woken his parents. His folks had hugged, kissed and cried all over Shane, then turned around and done the same to him. He loved them both but, dang, he was glad when they finally went back to bed. His deputies had left an hour ago to take Sherry Ann to a friend’s house and Kauffman to jail.

  He needed Shane.

  Resting his head on the door, he thought about what had happened. How he’d roused to find the bed empty and Kauffman yelling outside his window. Talk about coming fully awake and hitting the ground running. He let out a deep breath.

  A hand landed on his shoulder, tugging him around. He swept his arms around Shane and buried his face in the crook of his lover’s neck. He inhaled, letting Shane’s unique spicy scent invade his senses. They stood there for the longest time, just holding each other.

  After several minutes, Shane spoke. “Thanks, love.”

  “You’re welcome.” He leaned in for a kiss, but Shane stepped back. Gray frowned.

  Shane smiled faintly and led Gray to the couch. “I need to tell you something.” He sat and faced Gray, face serious, almost grim.

  Gray tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “Is this something I’m not going to like?”

  Shane dipped his head once, his jaw tight. “Probably. I want to tell you how I ended up here at the Broken H. Not even your parents know the whole story.” He ran his hand down his face, a sure sign that he was nervous.

  Gray reached for Shane to pull him close again, but Shane shook his head.

  “Just let me tell you, then you can decide whether you still want me or not.”

  Gray blinked, completely dumbfounded. Shane was afraid that whatever he had to say was going to change the way Gray felt about him? That was never going to happen, but it was clear he wasn’t going to be given the chance to try and convince Shane otherwise right now. That would likely take too long, and the sooner Shane said what he needed to say, the sooner he could hold him, assure himself that Shane was still here. Still safe and in one piece. He nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “Both my parents are full-blooded Apache. They are or were both active in the tribal council, but we didn’t live on the reservation. My father was a college professor and my mother taught high school math.”

  It made sense, since Shane had a really high IQ. It was probably due in part to his parents pestering him to study and shoving information at him, Gray thought, barely stifling his movement toward his lover again.

  “I’m the oldest and Sarah is two years younger than me. We were pretty much the typical middle-class family, but with Apache customs. Everything was great until I turned fifteen and really admitted to myself that I was gay. I had known before then, but I’d tried my best to be normal -- or what I’d always been taught was normal. I managed to get part of it right.” Shane snorted. “I was at the head of my class academically and the second string quarterback. I was even one of two freshmen that made the A team and in several tribal youth organizations. You could say I was considered the perfect son, until my parents caught me one evening making out on the couch with another guy.”

  “And they kicked you out.” Gray had known it was coming, but it still hurt him.

  Shane smiled without humor and shook his head. “Oh, no! That would probably have been easier to deal with. They didn’t kick me out at all; in fact, they didn’t do anything. The Apache cherish their children, you see,
so they wouldn’t have felt right about making me leave. What would their friends and family have said?

  “No, they just ignored me -- when they weren’t telling me how worthless I was or what a big disappointment I had turned out to be.” Shane stared off into space. The look on his face was haunted. “I went from being the golden boy to the elephant in the room. They didn’t come to my football games, they no longer cared about my grades. They only spoke to me if I was in their way and they wanted me to move. They quite literally froze me out of their lives and my home.” He looked at Gray, his eyes once again focused, and shrugged. “I couldn’t bear to be there any longer, so I left.”

  Fuck! Talk about cruel and undeserving punishment. “I thought Native American cultures were more open when it came to homosexuality.”

  Shane shrugged again. “Some are. They call us two spirits or Berdache. But not the Apache or, more specifically, not our particular tribe.” Shane laughed, the sound rusty and painful to hear. “Heck, my parents didn’t even admit that I was gay. Who knows what they eventually told people.” His lip trembled slightly.

  Seeing that nearly broke Gray’s heart; he held out his arms. He needed to soothe himself as much as Shane.

  Shane shook his head. “Wait, there’s more.” Shane closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I filled a duffle with clothes and some food from our pantry and started walking. I had no idea where I was going; I just had to leave. I didn’t wander far at first. I stayed in the area hoping they’d come for me. I thought that they’d at least report me missing. After a couple of days, when it was obvious that they didn’t want me back, I started hitching.

  Shane’s voice cracked a little. “I ended up in Amarillo before I started giving blowjobs for rides and food. I’m not proud of how I managed to get here, but it was all I had at the time. The last ride, the one that got me here, I refused to give more than a blowjob. I was so tired and weak from hunger that the guy managed to open the door and push me out while the car was still moving. I landed in oncoming traffic and your dad almost ran over me.” Tears streaked from his lids and ran down his cheeks, plopping on to his pajama bottoms. “That’s how I met him. Ted stopped and helped me into his truck. He tried to take me to the hospital, but I wouldn’t go. So he fed me at Betty’s diner.” He smiled briefly. “Ted managed to drag it out of me that I was homeless, so he offered me a job and brought me home to Kaitlyn ... Well, you know the rest.”

  Gray closed his own eyes, attempted to keep the moisture from falling, but it was no use. The tears came anyway. What if he’d been born to parents like Shane’s? Thank God for his parents! He was an incredibly lucky man, and he owed them both more than he could ever pay -- for himself and for Shane.

  He sat there for a few minutes, trying to form words, but they wouldn’t come. Finally, he gave up and grabbed Shane, embracing him.

  Shane attempted to move away for half an instant, then he wrapped his arms and legs around Gray, putting his head on Gray’s chest.

  Gray swallowed the lump in his throat and his tears, and rubbed Shane’s back. He could feel moisture sliding off his chest and down his belly, then Shane’s shoulders started to shake. Gray kissed the back of his neck and continued to stroke. His own tears rolled down Shane’s shoulder, but he just held Shane even tighter. As an officer in San Antonio, he’d seen and heard shit like this all the time, but somehow knowing it was his chief who had experienced it, who had suffered, really drove the point home. He decided then and there that Shane’s parents didn’t deserve Shane and it no longer mattered what they wanted. He wouldn’t force Shane to return to New Mexico.

  Shane took a shaky breath and clutched at him. “The worst part of everything was that I really expected them to try and find me. When they didn’t, I felt as worthless as they told me I was.”

  “You’re not worthless!”

  “I know. You know when I finally realized it?”

  Gray pulled back, looking into red, watery, brown eyes. “When?”

  Shane smiled and touched his cheek. “The day after I got here when I met you. You looked up at me with these big green eyes full of awe and you asked me --”

  Gray smiled back, his tears coming faster now. Shane’s face blurred in his vision but he finished the sentence. “Are you a war chief or a peace chief?”

  Shane brushed a tear off Gray’s face with his thumb and sniffed, visibly getting himself together. “You looked up at me with such wonder in your eyes, such respect, that I realized I couldn’t possibly be useless. From that day on, I knew I was somebody who meant something, who had a place in the world, because you admired me.”

  “I still do. There aren’t many men who deserve as much respect as you do.”

  Shane trembled. “I was half afraid that after you knew the truth you would be ashamed.”

  Gray tilted his upward to stem the flow of tears and shook his head. God, what a pair they made. Crying and clinging to each other like a couple of girls when they’d already faced down a guy with a shotgun cool as you please. He almost laughed. “Knowing how you got here and what you went through only makes me love you more. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  “I finally have an answer to that question.”

  Shane frowned. “What question?”

  “What kind of chief you are.”

  Shane smiled and raised a brow. “Yeah? What kind of chief am I?”

  “You’re my chief.”

  EPILOGUE

  Gray poked the fire one last time, getting it going nice and hot. Three days before Christmas and it was colder than a witch’s tit outside. He sat down on the big red flannel blanket he’d laid in front of the large rock fireplace and stretched out his legs. Wiggling his sock-clad toes, he rested his hands behind his head. Vacation here I come. Oh, yeah! This was the life, even if he wasn’t going anywhere. Just hanging out on the Broken H was as good a break as a guy could ask for. He’d been re-elected sheriff, Kauffman had been sentenced to a year in the pen, Sherry Ann had gone to live with her aunt and uncle and pretty much everyone who’d criticized Shane for knocking Sherry Ann up had done as predicted and claimed they’d known it couldn’t have been true. Life was good.

  He had almost everything he needed for the makings of a great nap: fire in the hearth, Christmas music playing quietly in the background, his favorite pair of sweats on. Too bad that he hadn’t thought to make himself some hot chocolate with tons of marshmallows before he’d lain down. A nap was always better on a full stomach.

  He was just about to fall asleep when the backdoor slammed. Gray rolled his head back, arching his neck a little to see the kitchen doorway.

  Shane came stomping into the living room, looking madder than hell. He froze abruptly just inside the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, his surprised but pleased gaze landing on Gray. His expression lightened a little. There was even a hint of a smile. “What are you doing here?”

  “I live here.”

  Shane pulled off his thick wool coat and tossed it onto the couch, then peeled off his gloves and flung them on top of the coat. His hands went to his lean hips. “I mean, what are you doing home?” He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “It’s only three o’clock.” He moved around to stand at Gray’s feet so that Gray didn’t have to break his neck to look at him, and grinned, his eyes twinkling. Gray could almost see the last of his bad mood slipping away. “You know, I paid good money to get you re-elected and I know damned well I pay my taxes. So why is my sheriff lounging about in his pajamas in my living room instead of out catching bad guys?”

  Gray chuckled. “Your sheriff is on vacation as of two o’clock this afternoon.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup.” Gray sat up and patted the floor beside him.

  Shane smiled. “I thought your vacation started tomorrow.” He dropped down onto the blanket and tugged one boot off, then the other.

  Gray shrugged. “I decided to get an early start. Your tax dollars allow me to do that.�
�

  Shane laughed. “Oh, they do, do they?”

  “Yup, they surely do.” He touched the spot next to him again and laid down. “But that’s another story. What’s got you spitting nails, old man?”

  Shane slid all the way onto the flannel blanket and scooted himself around until he was lying next to Gray. “Your daddy.” Shane turned on his side, propping himself on his elbow to stare down at Gray.

  “Yeah? What’d he do?”

  “He willed me half the Broken H.”

  Gray nodded absently, tracing a finger down Shane’s magnificent, albeit covered, chest. The man had way too many clothes on. “Yes, he did, so what?” He raised up so he could unbutton Shane’s shirt. Oh, yeah, there we go ... luscious bare skin.

  Shane stilled Gray’s hand. “You knew about it?”

  Shit! “Uh, yes.” He pushed Shane’s hand away and unfastened another button.

  Shane stopped his hand again, this time clasping it in his own.

  “Oh, come on, chief!” Gray flopped down onto his back. He didn’t want to do this now. He was on vacation, damn it!

  “Grayson?” Shane arched a brow.

  “Shane, does it really matter? Think of it this way. One way or another, you get half of the Broken H when they’re gone. You are my partner, my love. What’s mine is yours. Did you honestly think I wouldn’t put it in your name, too?”

  Shane opened his mouth and closed it.

  “So, why don’t you just let them do this for you? You know they love you. Just say thank you and deal with it. You’ll make them happy. With any luck, they won’t be gone for quite a long time, anyway.” He waited for Shane to argue, but all Shane did was smile.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Gray was skeptical of this seemingly easy acceptance.

  Shane nodded firmly. “Okay. I’ll go thank them right now.” He started to get up.

  Gray grabbed his arm. “Wait! Can’t you thank them later?”

  “I thought you wanted me to let them know I appreciate what they’ve done.” His eyes twinkled.