by A. M. Arthur
Wes hid his face behind his hand, and Mack could only imagine the thoughts flying through his pretty little head. Made Mack doubly glad there were two children present, because they were probably the only reason Wes was holding back. He didn’t strike Mack as a subtle person.
“As it is,” Mack continued, “you don’t wanna ride too long your first time. Straddling a horse stretches your thigh muscles, and you’re likely to be sore if you spend too much time in the saddle.”
Wes’s face went bright red, hand still over his mouth. Mack had given this speech a thousand times, and never in his life had it sounded so much like a euphemism for sex, and it was all Wes’s fault. The little devil deserved a spanking for distracting him so much. Mack cleared his throat. Nope. Not thinking about that while on a horse and wearing tight jeans.
Reyes took over by mounting Hot Coffee and showing them how to tell the horse to go with their heels, a few ways to lead with the bit, how to rein the beast in and stop. He had a calm grace to him when he was on a horse, more natural up there than he’d ever seemed as a fireman. Sure, the guy had looked hot in his uniform, but he always seemed angry after a shift. Unsettled. Being out in the open countryside had done his lifelong friend a world of good.
The demonstration had apparently given Wes enough time to calm down, because once Reyes stopped talking, Wes piped up with “Mack, can you show us a proper dismount? For when we’re done riding.”
Someone in the group tittered.
“Left foot flat in the stirrup,” Mack said, ignoring the innuendo. “Swing your right leg up and over the horse’s back, opposite of mounting. Plant it firmly on the ground before you take your left foot out of the stirrup.” He did exactly as he said, going more slowly than usual so everyone could see the movements. He gave Tude a sugar cube for her patience.
“When can we try?” Andy piped up, speaking to one of his moms, but loud enough for his shrill voice to carry.
“Pretty soon, buddy,” Mack said. “Don’t think you can mount on your own yet, though. How do you feel about riding with me first, before we put you up there alone?”
“Okay!”
Their other two instructors were out with their horses, so Mack separated everyone into four groups and assigned riders. Wes pouted a bit as he shuffled off with Reyes, Hot Coffee and his bridal party friends. Mack felt a little bad sticking the older Chamberlains with the two college guys, but the three girlfriends seemed to be actively avoiding them. Best to keep the groups separate for now and watch the guys.
And keep his own eyes off Wes.
* * *
“I don’t think I can do this,” Sophie said as she eyeballed Hot Coffee. The top of her head only came up to the saddle, and while Wes had always thought she looked a little mismatched with her incredibly tall fiancé, the horse made her look infinitely smaller.
“What if I give you a boost?” Wes teased.
“You can use the steps if that makes you more comfortable, miss,” Reyes said. “Tall or short, not everyone can pull themselves up into the saddle. Some folks need a lot of practice. I didn’t make it all the way up my first time.”
Wes wasn’t sure if that was true, or if he was trying to make Sophie feel better. “Make your future husband go first, then.” He whipped out his phone and opened up the video app. “I need future blackmail material.”
“Ass,” Conrad said with a grin. “Fine, I’ll give it a go.”
“Hell yes.” Wes took a few steps back so he could get a good angle as Reyes walked him through it. Conrad shocked the hell out of him by swinging up into the saddle on his first try.
Sophie squealed. “Oh my God, you make it look so easy.”
“I think I shocked myself with that one,” Conrad said. “It’s not as easy as it looks, though, trust me. I thought the saddle was gonna slide to the left.”
“It’s a bit daunting at first,” Reyes said. “The saddle has a little give, but if they’re secured properly it won’t slide sideways.”
“Wave,” Wes said. Conrad did, and Wes took a few snaps with the camera to go along with the video. “You look good, bro.”
Reyes led horse and rider in a circle around the corral, showing Conrad how to use the reins and his heels to control Hot Coffee—which was a bizarre name for a horse that was mostly off-white. When Reyes circled back so Derrick could try, he asked, “How’d you name your horse?”
“The spot on her forehead,” Reyes replied.
Wes angled around so he could see. The horse had a dark brown splotch high on her forehead that...yeah, it kind of looked like a mug of coffee with steam whispering up. “Okay, I see it. Cool.”
Horse people are weird.
On the opposite side of the corral, Mack seemed to actually be enjoying himself for a change, instead of glaring straight ahead. The two Reynolds boys were having the time of their lives, taking turns riding around with him and helping him direct the horse. It was so paternal that Wes could imagine the guy with a pack of his own kids. Not really a future Wes had ever dreamed of, and why did that matter? He was flirting with Mack this week, not marrying him.
Sophie tried to ride Hot Coffee next and flat out couldn’t pull herself up. Colt brought the portable steps over, and that helped her get up into the saddle. Wes filmed the whole thing, then caught a cute shot of her bending down to kiss the top of Conrad’s head as she whooped, “I’m finally taller than you!”
Reyes had to majorly adjust the stirrups for her shorter legs, but once she got going, Sophie had a ball on that horse. “That’s my future wife,” Conrad said proudly. “Looking good, baby! You can ride.”
Derrick turned to Conrad with a glint in his eyes.
Wes saw it coming and poked Derrick in the chest. “Before you even consider telling a riding joke about my baby sister, let me remind you there is a barn full of horse crap I can dump in your bunk.”
Derrick pressed his lips shut.
After Sophie was finished, Wes and Miles rock-paper-scissored the next victim. Miles lost his paper to Wes’s scissors.
“Relax,” Reyes said as he adjusted the stirrups for Miles’s longer, trembling legs. “I’ll tell you a secret, Miles. My old girl here has never thrown a guest.”
“That’s comforting, I guess,” Miles replied. His hands shook as he reached for the saddle horn. Took a few deep breaths in and out. Put his foot in the stirrup.
Miles, the perfect city boy, shocked the hell out of Wes by swinging himself up into the saddle on the first try. Even Reyes seemed genuinely impressed. “It took me four days of practice before I could swing up with that much grace,” Reyes said.
Miles blushed. “I’ve ridden before, but it’s been a really long time.”
“You never told me that,” Wes said.
“You never asked.”
Touché.
Reyes took a step back while Miles went through the same motions as the others, testing the reins and getting comfortable in the saddle. He rode straight-backed, elbows squared, like someone who’d had lessons. This was a story Wes might try to pry out of his friend later tonight. He knew Miles wasn’t in contact with his family any longer, and his childhood was not a subject for conversation. Apparently that childhood had once involved horses.
The jerk even showed off by getting Hot Coffee to back up, and then walk sideways. By the time he finished with a graceful dismount, the entire corral was watching him. Someone applauded. Miles flushed bright red and turned to face the tall fencing.
“That was impressive,” Reyes said softly. “You’re very good with horses.”
Miles mumbled something even Wes couldn’t understand.
“And last, but never least,” Conrad said, redirecting with style, “I think it’s Wes’s turn to get his skinny ass up on a horse.”
“I’ve been dreading this since I booked the vacation,” Wes said. “I might need
those steps.”
“Give it a go the cowboy way first,” Reyes replied.
Wes didn’t put enough power into it the first time, but on his second try, he managed to swing his ass up and into the damned saddle. Not supercomfortable, even after adjusting himself. He glanced over his shoulder, not surprised to see Mack look away and put his attention back on one of the Reynolds moms. Dianne? Suzy? He usually wasn’t this awful with names, and they kind of looked alike.
Wes wanted to stand up in his stirrups and waggle his ass, show Mack what he was missing out on; the rest of him was too scared of falling six feet to the hard ground, so he stayed seated on the bazillion pounds of muscled beast beneath him.
“This isn’t so bad,” Wes said.
“Wait until you’ve been riding for an hour,” Reyes said. “Your ass won’t be so happy.”
From your mouth to Mack’s ears.
Somehow Wes got the horse to do what he wanted without getting thrown. He’d never ridden a horse on the show back in the day, and he did not understand how people got used to the way they got rocked about every time the big animal took a step. The whole thing was making him a little seasick. Eventually Reyes decided Wes was competent enough to let him dismount, which he totally fucked up. Instead of his right foot hitting the ground flatly, he turned his ankle and nearly fell over. “Oh shit!”
Reyes caught him before his ass hit the dust and set him to rights.
“Ooh, he said a bad word,” Joey screeched.
Cussing in front of the kids. Just great.
Wes made a show of dusting himself off and straightening his clothes, sure to aim his ass in Mack’s direction. The fact that he caught the bigger guy looking again gave him hope for at least one vacation hookup. Colt was hot and would probably say yes, but something about Mack’s bearded, gruff papa bear thing pressed all of Wes’s buttons.
With the lessons concluded, guests were free to hang out until the supper bell rang—roughly an hour and a half—or go on a guided walking tour of the land. Since it looked like Mack would be busy assigning horses, Wes decided to go on the tour. The ranch was freaking gorgeous and he wanted to see more. Miles stuck close, his camera at the ready.
By the time they assembled at the start of one of the trails, everyone in the guesthouse except the Reynolds family and Alex was there. As one of the longest employees of the ranch, Bert was leading the tour. Totally straight and no fun to look at, so Wes mostly drowned out Bert’s words and studied the land.
The trail dipped over low hills and wove in and out of groves of trees. Birds swooped in the air, which was thick with the scents of earth, grass and something floral that rose up the farther they moved from the heavy odors of the barn. At the top of a hill, Bert pointed into the distance, where spots of red dotted the landscape.
“That’s the rescue,” Bert said. “Got good people doin’ good work out there, and not just with horses. We rescue people, too.”
“How’s that?” Sophie asked.
“Arthur likes to take chances on people who’ve maybe burned up those second or third chances with others. Gives them a job, a chance to be part of something important. He took a chance on me when I got out of prison. Thanks to him, there’s no chance of me going back.”
“What were you in for?” Miller asked.
Bert only winked and smiled. “Doin’ bad stuff.”
They continued along the trail, and Wes soaked in the scenery. In some ways, it reminded him of the location they’d used for a lot of the Quick Draw exteriors. The shoot-outs and frantic horseback riding across the plains to stop that week’s atrocity from happening. Mostly Drake and the main cast of the show. Wes had ridden on a buckboard a few times, but not a horse. His character had been a blacksmith, only a few lines per episode at first.
Until he’d started sleeping with Drake Sellers, the star of the show. Then Wes’s character got more lines, a past and even a last name. The second season of the show, he’d even gotten his own secondary storyline for six episodes. It had been the start of something really big on the show, and he was happy with Drake—except their relationship was a secret from everyone, per Drake’s demands. Wes hadn’t even told Sophie about it, not until the whole thing was over.
And then Wes’s career had been in shambles; he’d run home with his tail between his legs, and now his career was dinner theater.
I fucked up so bad. Ugh.
“Hey.” Sophie gently elbowed him in the ribs. “You okay?”
“Got lost in the past for a bit,” Wes replied. “Thinking about Quick Draw. Drake. That whole mess.”
“Why on earth are you wasting thoughts on that asshole?”
“Ranch kind of reminded me of it all.”
“Oh shit.” Sophie tugged him off the trail, away from the group. “I am so sorry, Wes, I didn’t even think what coming to a dude ranch would mean for you. I am so selfish.”
“No, you’re not.” Wes pulled his baby sister into a firm hug, desperate to get that devastated look off of her face. “This is what you wanted, and I was more than happy to oblige. I’m the one who can’t let go of the past.”
She looped her arms around his waist. “That asshole hurt you, and I still owe him a swift kick to the nuts.”
“You and me both.”
“At least we can live in the joy that since the show got cancelled, he’s been stuck in made-for-TV movie hell, right?”
“Yup.” He squeezed her again, then stepped back. “In case you were wondering, yes, I’m having fun and no, I’m not spending the entire week moping about Drake. Over and done. It’s too pretty here to get down over him anymore.”
“Good. You deserve someone who’ll make you happy and won’t shove you back into the closet.”
“Don’t I know it, sis. Don’t I know it.”
They scrambled to catch up with the group, which had moved farther down the trail. Bert was nattering on about some type of bird that regularly nested nearby. Sophie’s familiar words turned over in his mind. Yes, he did deserve someone who’d love him openly and make him happy. And while he had absolutely no illusions that the person to make him happy was his favorite grumpy cowboy, he was not opposed to using Mack for a little bit of consensual fun.
As pretty as the land was, the nearby town was dying and offered no real prospects. No, Wes’s life and future was in San Francisco, not the wild countryside of Northern California. No matter how hot he looked in jeans and cowboy boots.
Chapter Five
The Sunday night barbecue was a tradition at the ranch, and over the years Mack had learned how to be a gracious host in order to get in on the piles of ribs, steaks and sausage that Arthur and Patrice cooked on an open brick grill behind the guesthouse. The rear yard had multiple wood picnic tables surrounded by lit oil lantern stakes, which helped create a festive atmosphere. A table near the grill was loaded down with side dishes: cold salads, fresh fruit and Patrice’s famous baked beans. Hot rolls and butter. A variety of cold drinks.
Hot dogs and potato chips had been provided for the two youngest guests, upon request.
The barbecue was a chance for all of the ranch employees to mingle with the guests, meet the people they’d be interacting with for the rest of the week. Colt was in his element, chatting away with anyone who seemed open, while Mack and Reyes did their personal bests to be polite and answer questions.
Mack was also doing his goddamn best to avoid Wes, who was sitting at one of the picnic tables looking so distant and unhappy that he was working the last of Mack’s restraint. Wes had been vibrant during the riding lessons, teasing Mack from afar, but he’d shown up for dinner a different person. The generally subdued Miles looked positively joyful next to Wes.
Arthur rang the dinner bell, which stole everyone’s attention. He stood by the grill with Patrice and Judson, all of them smiling. Mack braced for the coming speech.
“Good evening, friends new and old!” Arthur said. “This here barbecue is a tradition at the ranch. Gives us all a chance to get to know each other. Now, this might seem a little silly, and it’s not a requirement, but I hope some of you fine folks joining us this week will tell us who you are, where you’re from, maybe a bit about yourself and why you’re visiting us.”
This seemed right up Wes’s alley, but he stayed put, glancing around the table as if bored.
One of the Reynolds moms stood. “Hi, everyone, I’m Dianne, and this is my wife, Suzy,” she said. “We’re here with our two boys, Joey and Andy, and we’re from Reno, Nevada. We’re all here as a special family celebration.” Dianne paused, coughed. “This week, our youngest Joey celebrates his first year in remission from childhood leukemia, and this was his wish. A cowboy experience.”
Something thick settled in Mack’s throat. Dianne rubbed at her eyes, clearly emotional over the milestone. Mack studied the little boy who’d so enthusiastically ridden on Tude with him that afternoon, amazed that he’d overcome something so awful at such a young age. The love in Suzy’s gaze as she looked up at her wife didn’t help dislodge that clog in his throat, either. He’d had that once. Not the kids, but the love.
He glanced at Wes, who was watching the women with rapt attention, his eyes suspiciously bright. Jesus, if Wes started to cry Mack would be done for. Nothing would stop him from marching across the yard to comfort him.
The two college guys went next. Miller and Liam were frat brothers from the University of San Francisco, an announcement at which Wes rolled his eyes and whispered something to Miles. The Chamberlains were on their second honeymoon. The trio of girls were best friends spending the summer together.
Something about the way the girls exchanged intense looks suggested there was more to it, but no one was required to speak up, much less tell their entire life story.