by KD Fisher
When Matt led me to the barn to formally introduce me to the farm’s two horses, he informed me I would be riding the smaller one, a speckled mare named Nugget. Apparently she’d been christened by Abby, named after the eight-year-old’s favorite food. The name fit too, because all Nugget seemed to want to do was eat any available thing we happened to pass as we rode along the snow-blanketed trails. Matt’s giant brown horse, Memphis, was a far better listener, sticking to the path and keeping an even pace. Okay, Matt was also, unsurprisingly, excellent at controlling the animal with gentle movements and soft sounds of encouragement.
I muttered to myself as, once again, Nugget stalled to nibble at some scrubby underbrush. Could horses even eat that stuff? Was I about to let Matt’s horse poison herself? Tugging on the reins the way Matt had shown me was fruitless. Nugget remained rooted to the spot, content to munch away at sharp, probably toxic foliage.
“You all right?” Matt turned his horse around, looking far too at ease and far too amused by my predicament.
“Can she eat this?” My voice sounded tinny and shrill, more panicked than I needed to be. I willed myself to calm the hell down.
“Yup. She’s greedy, though, so don’t let her eat too much.” Matt made a quiet clicking sound, and Nugget turned immediately toward him. Traitor.
Without further incident I followed Matt through the snowy field, grateful for the warmth of my new coat as a huge gust of wind whipped across the open plain. Although the black work jacket wasn’t the kind of clothing I usually gravitated to, I loved its comfortable practicality. Glancing up from my white-knuckled grip on the reins, I couldn’t suppress an actual sigh of awe. This place was breathtakingly beautiful. The sun glittered on the freshly fallen snow, making everything look bright and clean. And Matt looked as gorgeous as the landscape around us, rugged and natural, his thick thighs flexing as he easily controlled the horse. I grinned to myself. Never would I have imagined I would actually enjoy tromping over the frozen ground on horseback, surrounded by nothing but trees and mountains. I was at ease here. Whether it was the holiday season, the whole splendor-of-nature thing, the satisfaction of spending time with Matt, or a combination of all three, I couldn’t say.
Not for the first time, I wondered what it would be like to actually live in a place like this. There was no denying that the Teton Valley was beautiful. And the two towns closest to Matt’s farm seemed pretty cool, with eclectic restaurants, an actual drive-in movie theater, and a smattering of independently owned shops. The tiny idealistic part of me loved imagining a life out here with Matt: stargazing, hiking with Moose, learning how to grow vegetables, waking up each morning wrapped safe in his strong arms. But the bigger part of me knew I was being ridiculous. For one, I had only known Matt for a little over a month. Of course I liked everything about him. We were firmly in the infatuation, can’t-keep-our-hands-off-each-other phase. It was idiotic for me to think about living with him when I didn’t even know his middle name, not to mention actual important things like if he wanted a long-term serious relationship or how he navigated difficult arguments. He could be a Republican for all I knew.
Really, all this nature stuff and relaxation was fine and good for a few weeks, but I knew soon enough I would start missing decent coffee shops and the comfort of progressive urban spaces. Matt seemed pretty comfortable being out within his community, but he was also six foot five and built like a tank. It seemed highly unlikely that any bigoted assholes would be foolish enough to mess with him. But I wasn’t particularly big or butch, and I certainly had zero interest in dealing with small-town homophobia. When I’d asked Matt about any local LGBTQ spaces or queer groups, he just shrugged and said he wasn’t aware of anything like that. Back in Boston I’d been actively involved in a queer book club, sponsored my school’s gay-straight alliance, and had volunteered at a LGBTQ youth center throughout college and grad school. I couldn’t imagine the isolation of, quite literally, being the odd man out.
“Uncle Matt!” A small girl who had to be Abby bounded through the field in our direction, closely followed by Moose. Her shiny silver parka caught the sun, making me want to shield my eyes. The metallic coat paired with electric blue snow pants and a lime-green knit hat brought a smile to my face. Clearly this kid loved color.
“Hey, bug.” Matt slid off Memphis easily and ruffled his niece’s hat.
I wanted to follow Matt’s lead, effortlessly dismounting the horse and saying hello, but I envisioned myself falling to the ground in a heap, so I settled for an awkward wave.
“Is this your boyfriend?” Abby asked, looking at me with wide eyes.
“This is my friend, Mikah.” Matt didn’t miss a beat, extending a hand to help me down off the horse. “Mikah, this is my niece, Abby.”
Happy to be back on solid ground, I shook Abby’s tiny, gloved hand. “Nice to meet you.” I grinned at her. She was an adorable kid. “So is Nugget your horse?”
Abby nodded absently, her dark eyes plainly sizing me up. I felt myself trying to stand up a little taller. “Daddy said you’re Uncle Matt’s boyfriend. That’s different from a friend. Boyfriend means you kiss.”
Matt laughed, hurriedly stripping off his deerskin gloves and rummaging around in his pockets while I searched my mind for an appropriate response. Oh yeah, Abby, well, I’m kind of falling for your uncle, but I also live on the East Coast, so we’re keeping things casual. And we kiss all the time, and it’s basically the greatest thing ever. Definitely no good.
“I found this for you yesterday.” Matt handed Abby the small piece of quartz he’d picked up while he and I had taken Moose for a walk along the Snake River.
Abby’s eyes went wide as she looked down at the stone, awkward question thankfully forgotten. “A diamond?” She breathed the words.
“Umm,” Matt hedged, trying not to smile, “you think?”
She bobbed her head sagely. “Yeah, the rock book says that diamonds are a very hard clear stone.” She said the words like she was reading them directly from the page.
I bent down to inspect the rock, my face a mask of seriousness. “Well, this does appear to fit that description.”
“What other kinds of rocks are clear?” Matt asked pointedly. Man, he could have been a teacher.
Abby considered his question. “Um… moonstone. Sometimes topaz. Oh! Quartz!” She beamed at him and pocketed the rock. Matt held out his hand for a fist bump. I tried not to die on the spot from the cuteness.
“So what’re you up to out here?” Matt asked Abby as he gathered up the reins of both horses and started back in the direction of the barn. For that, I was thankful. Although my new coat was delightfully cozy, all of Matt’s gloves had been way too big for me, so my hands were freezing. Plus, I could only stare at Matt’s ass in those worn jeans for so long without wanting to drag him back to his cabin and pull said jeans off him. Nope, not thinking about that while in the presence of a child.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot. Mom wanted me to tell you that she made hot chocolate and that she wants you to come over for some.”
I followed Matt and Abby into the barn, which unfortunately was so drafty that it wasn’t much better than the windblown fields visible through the weathered wooden slats. Hot chocolate sounded amazing at the moment. Honestly, though, I’d rather have it in bed with Matt than with Matt’s whole family, not that they didn’t seem like lovely people. I watched uselessly as Matt made quick work of removing the horses’ heavy saddles and hanging them on rough-hewn posts. Abby grabbed a small brush and started running it over Nugget’s speckled body, petting the horse and talking to her in a gentle voice.
“Um, can I help at all?” I asked, weirdly embarrassed that I was so out of my depth.
Matt nodded in the direction of a cement utility sink. “You can refill their water if you want. What’s in there might be frozen. Abby and I can take care of the rest.”
I wanted to grumble that I could handle the same tasks as a second grader, but truthfully Abby had moved
on to doing something to the horse’s hooves, and I wasn’t so sure. By the time I lugged a bucket of water to the trough, both horses were happily munching on hay in their stalls.
“What do you say, Mikah? Want some hot chocolate?” My stomach fluttered at the heat in Matt’s gaze. I knew what he wanted to do, and it didn’t involve going over to his brother’s place.
“Please! Please!” Abby grabbed my hand. “I want to show Mikah my geology kit. Oh, and we can do beads.”
“Hot chocolate sounds good.” I tried to match Abby’s enthusiasm as Matt closed the barn door behind us. Our other plans could wait.
Abby and Moose bounded ahead in the direction of the modest, brightly decorated split-level ranch. Once his niece was a good distance away, waving a stick in front of Moose’s face, Matt pulled me to him, kissing me rough and fast. My skin flushed with arousal, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. When my hands drifted lower to squeeze Matt’s thighs, he groaned and pushed his face into my hair.
“You like that, huh?” I teased, tipping my face back and swiping a quick kiss over his cold lips.
“Yup.” Matt’s voice was a husky whisper as he rocked his hips against mine, showing me exactly how much he liked my hands on him.
“Behave.” I kissed his stubbly cheek before giving it a gentle pat. “I don’t really want to have a boner when I meet your brother this time.”
THE interior of John and Katie’s house was the polar opposite of Matt’s cabin. Where Matt’s place was comfortable in its simplicity, his brother’s house exploded with color and clutter. There were toys, framed photos, and little decorative signs everywhere. The place was nice, though, if a little overwhelming.
“You found ’em?” Matt’s sister-in-law called from the kitchen as we pulled off our boots and hung our coats on an overburdened rack. I liked the sound of her voice, musical and low with a slight country accent.
“Uh-huh!” Abby shouted back, galloping into the kitchen. Beneath the colorful winter gear, she wore an even brighter pair of leggings printed with gumdrops.
My heart rate picked up as I followed Matt into the kitchen. John, a slightly shorter, darker-haired version of Matt, and his wife were busy putting together what appeared to be a cookie tray for fifty people.
“Hey, Mikah!” John pulled me into a bear hug. “Good to see you again, dude!” I found myself smiling despite the fact that I wasn’t much of a hugger when it came to people I didn’t know very well. Matt’s brother was the kind of person you couldn’t help but like, though, with his easy manner and, evidently, free-flowing affection. I was glad Matt had such loving people in his life.
Matt’s sister-in-law grinned at me. “So nice to finally meet you. I’m Katie.” She wiped her hands on a gingham kitchen towel before shaking mine.
“Thanks for having us over,” I mumbled. I felt a little awkward getting to know Matt’s family. Sure, he’d met my family too, but this all felt very… intimate. Like an actual relationship. It was getting harder and harder to convince myself that this bore any resemblance to a casual holiday fling.
“What’s all this?” Matt asked, gesturing to the cookies and steaming mugs of hot chocolate. The whole display looked like something out of a food magazine, each cup topped with a swirl of whipped cream and a dusting of crushed candy cane.
“We wanted to pull out all the stops for your boyfriend.” John picked up the tray and gestured for us to follow him to the kitchen table.
“John….” Katie chastised him.
My head spun. Was Matt calling me his boyfriend? A quick glance in his direction answered the question for me, however. Matt was rubbing his neck, something I’d come to recognize as a clear sign of his discomfort, and staring daggers at his brother.
“Oh, sorry, ‘friend,’” John amended, putting scare quotes around the last word.
I was grateful when Katie, with an admirable level of tact, changed the topic to horseback riding, asking Matt and me lighthearted questions about the weather and where we’d gone. I liked seeing Matt with his family. He was still reserved, still kept his responses short and simple, but he was animated. His enthusiastic gestures and easy laugh warmed me all the way through.
“So what do you do, Mikah?” Katie’s question startled me. I’d zoned out of the conversation, which had shifted from horseback riding to something farm-related.
“I’m a teacher. Well, I used to be.” Could I still call myself an educator even though I was currently doing nothing but reading, messing around on the piano, and letting myself get way too invested in a man who lived thousands of miles away from me?
“That’s awesome! Me too!” Katie clapped her hands. I could tell she was probably an amazing teacher, the kind of organized, peppy instructor who got kids excited with games and creative lesson plans. “What subject?”
I told her about my short-lived career with Boston Public Schools and about my upcoming interview at Walton, leaving out my misgivings about returning to the same elite school I’d attended for most of my life.
“Darn. Too bad you’re not sticking around here,” Katie mused, biting into a gingerbread cookie. Matt glanced over at me for a moment, then rubbed the back of his neck and became very interested in a loose thread on the red-and-green plaid placemat in front of him. “Maureen Thomas, the ninth-grade English teacher, announced at the holiday party that she’s going to retire at the end of the year. She’s amazing, really clicks with the kids and gets them interested in reading. It’s always cool for me because they connect things from the novels to social studies. Hooray for interdisciplinary crossover!” She punched the air, and her husband chuckled fondly. “Anyway,” Katie continued, “it’ll be hard to replace her. I’m the team leader for ninth grade, and it was impossible to find a good fit when the Physical Science teacher quit last year. So many people come and go around here….” She shrugged and waved her hand toward the door.
My stomach flipped at her words. If a perfect solution existed, this was it. I could tell Matt was as aware as I was of the implications of what Katie said. Next to me, Matt’s leg bounced rapid-fire under the table. I could stay. I could apply for the job here and… what? Live with Matt? Stay at my dad’s place? Find an apartment in town? I tried to reel in my rapidly unspooling thoughts, but it was no use. The possibility of building something real and lasting with Matt dangled in front of me, alluring but somehow just out of reach.
An awkward silence settled over the table, only interrupted by the sound of Abby playing with action figures in the living room. I took a long sip of my hot chocolate, searching for any good small-talk topics to dispel the low-grade tingle of discomfort at the table.
John beat me to it, though, clearing his throat and asking about plans for New Year’s Eve. Matt shook his head, slightly guarded as he turned toward me.
I perked up. Following my parents’ divorce when I was in high school, my dad had started throwing a huge New Year’s Eve party every year, first at his place in the Hollywood Hills and later at his house in Jackson Hole. I was pretty sure, in fact, that he’d met Naomi at one of his wilder soirees. The parties were always elaborate, elegant affairs complete with catered food, live music, and lots of rich lawyers getting wasted on champagne.
“My dad’s having a big party,” I blurted out. “At his house. You guys should all come. It’ll be fun. I guess my stepmom is obsessed with New Year’s, and she’s been working superhard to make it nice.”
“Okay,” Matt said simply, putting his hand over mine on the table. I shivered as the warmth of his touch seemed to seep up my arm.
“Yes!” Katie beamed at John, who did not look nearly as excited by the offer. Before he could voice his hesitation, however, she’d pulled her phone from her pocket, her fingers flying over the screen. “John, don’t you dare say no. We haven’t had a date night in about four months. And what’s more romantic than a New Year’s party? Sure beats me cooking dinner, doing the dishes, and watching the ball drop by myself while you and Abby conk out o
n the sofa.” Katie winked at me. A moment later her phone buzzed and she flashed a thumbs-up. “Perfect, Bella said she’s free that night to watch Abby.”
A series of cheers about pizza and freeze dance issued from the other room. Clearly Abby had been listening in on our conversation.
Katie rose from the table, kissing the top of John’s head. The guy looked torn between irritation and amusement. “Thanks a lot, man.” John laughed, shaking his head at me. “Now I gotta find some fancy stuff to wear.”
I waved my hands. “No way! It’s, like, business casual or whatever. Don’t worry about it. My dad always pulls out all the stops, but seriously wear whatever you want.”
“Oh yes way. We’re dressing up,” Katie called from the kitchen, her voice lethal.
John groaned. “She gonna make me wear a dang tie… I just know it.”
THE sun dipped behind the mist-cloaked mountains, painting the sky a hazy pink as I followed Matt back to his cabin. It had gotten even colder when the clouds rolled in, and I couldn’t wait to relax in front of the fire with Matt. Preferably naked, with his rough hands rendering me feverish with pleasure. As we drew closer to Matt’s house, my phone connected to his Wi-Fi, buzzing in my pocket with a text from Elena. I shouldn’t have been surprised that my sister was asking if I planned to ever come back to our dad’s place. I’d spent three of the four nights since Christmas at Matt’s cabin. He’d taken me to dinner at an adorably cozy restaurant in town, which I’d loved. And he’d taken me backcountry skiing, which I’d hated. I did feel a little guilty for spending so much time away from my family. But not guilty enough to want to go back over to my dad’s. Besides, I would be seeing a lot of Elena back in Manhattan, and my dad and Luca had spent every waking moment since Christmas holed up in my dad’s office, catching up on work. Even Naomi had been putting in hectic hours at the yoga studio, busy with clients looking to center themselves after the holiday mayhem. I was so focused on rapid-fire tapping out a snarky response to my sister that I collided with Matt, who had stopped walking and was gazing out at the mountains. Quickly, I hit Send on the text and shoved my phone back in my pocket.